TWELVE
JACK
“Hey, guys.” Paul and Tessa join Henry and me at our table at O’Reilly’s.
It’s Sunday night, and I’m having drinks with my best friends. Tessa has plans with her friend Ava, and they’re meeting here before going out to dinner at some restaurant.
“Hey, Tessa.” Henry lets out a deep sigh. “Lauren says sorry for not calling you back today. She and Amy were busy.” He rolls his eyes.
Tessa chuckles. “Hey, planning a wedding is a lot of work. Tell Lauren it’s okay. We’ll talk about the flower decoration when they have the time.”
“I will if I ever see her again,” Henry grumbles.
Paul shoves his shoulder. “Stop pouting. A wedding needs lots of diligent preparation.”
“But it’s not even our wedding,” he says with another eye roll. “That makes me reconsider.”
Tessa gasps. “Henry! Are you saying you’re thinking of proposing?”
“Maybe.” Henry shrugs. “The thought has crossed my mind.”
Paul cocks his head. “Are you serious?”
Tessa leans back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her eyes at her boyfriend. “Why would that be so bad? They’ve been together for, like, what? A year?” She looks at Henry for confirmation .
“We’re talking about Lauren,” I throw in when Henry nods. “The same woman who freaked out more than once about anything serious or long term.”
Henry shoots me a sideways glance. “She’s changed, and we have talked about getting married.”
“It would be brilliant if you proposed.” Tessa smiles at Henry.
Paul shakes his head at her, flicking his gaze to the ceiling. Of course, Tessa sees him do it and groans. “Come on, Paul. It’s not like I’m expecting anything from you.” Ignoring any further nonverbal comments from her boyfriend, Tessa turns to me. “Oh, Jack! Have you heard from Emma? How is she?”
I furrow my brows. “Why?”
“She’s not answering my texts, and after what happened, I was wondering if she was okay.”
“What do you mean?” I straighten up and roll my shoulders back. Tessa’s worried expression floods my system with unease.
“You don’t know? Someone attacked her at work.”
It takes a moment for her words to register, but once they do, I grab the edge of the table, ready to flip it over. “WHAT?!”
“You haven’t told him?” Tessa scowls at Paul, who frowns.
“No. I didn’t think that, uh,” he stammers.
Tessa groans. “Clearly, you weren’t thinking. We were at the hospital today,” she explains, while I still have a firm hold on the table. I’m close to breaking out in a cold sweat. My heart hammers in my chest, making me feel dizzy.
“This other nurse, Tamara, was there too,” Tessa says. “She told us some junkie came to the ER on Thursday, looking for drugs, and when Emma didn’t want to give him any, he beat her.”
I clench my jaw, pressing my lips together tight so I don’t swear vigorously. I draw in a slow breath through my nose. “Fuck!” I growl. “How is she? Was she hurt?” It’s taking me all I have not to storm out of here to find Emma.
“We don’t know.” Tessa frowns. “That’s why I texted and called her, but I haven’t heard from her. Tamara said she’d be working again tonight.”
“Tonight? Like right now?” That’s it. I can’t take it anymore. I jump out of my chair, ignoring the confused stares directed at me.
“Jack, what are you doing?” Paul narrows his eyes.
“I gotta go see her,” I say.
“What, now? Are you crazy?”
“I guess so. Okay, sorry. Bye!”
Without waiting for any of them to try to talk me out of this, I leave the pub and head to the hospital.
I walk into the ER with a still wildly beating heart. All the way here, one horrible scenario after the other played out in my mind. Someone attacked Emma? Was she injured? And why is she working again already at the place where it happened? It’s only been three days.
I stand at the front desk and let out a sigh of relief when I spot Emma standing a few feet away. She turns around and meets my gaze as if she sensed my presence. My lips lift in a smile, but when I notice the massive bruise on her left cheek, I grimace.
Emma comes over, her eyebrows raised. “Jack. What are you doing here?”
“Tessa told me what happened, and I wanted to talk to you. Are you okay?”
She presses her lips together, and a deep frown forms on her forehead. “Been better. But I’m all right; no need for you to worry.”
I nod, trying to hide the slight pang of disappointment. I was hoping she’d be less dismissive. “Can we talk? Please?”
Emma looks around. A few people sit in the waiting area, and I guess she’s got enough work to do. “Sorry, I’m busy,” she says. “Too many patients need my attention. I can’t talk now.”
I nod and take a deep breath. “Okay, I understand. Well, um—” Damn, what was I thinking coming here just like that? And that while we’re not even official friends.
A stupid idea forms in my mind, and as doing stupid things has been my MO lately, I tell her, “You know when I got that electric shock—”
Emma tilts her head, crossing her arms over her chest with a hint of a smile on her beautiful lips. “Yes?”
“You said I should come back if anything felt off.”
She nods.
“Something feels off.” I rub my chest, grimacing maybe a little too theatrically.
“Is that so?” Her tiny smile turns into a subtle smirk .
“Yeah, I think something’s wrong. Maybe even a heart attack? I have this weird pain in my right arm.” To emphasize my point, I rub said arm.
Judging from her expression, she can hardly stifle a laugh. “You mean your left arm?”
Oops! I quickly change to rubbing my left arm and display my best painful grimace. “Yes. You better perform another ECG.”
Damn, the medical bills will surely kick my ass at this rate, but I don’t care.
With her arms still crossed, she studies me with narrow eyes. Yup, stupid is working great. At least, it makes her smile. She shakes her head, and a short but happy laugh leaves her mouth. Fuck, that soft sound is the sexiest thing I’ve heard in a long while.
“Okay, follow me.” She waves me after her, still shaking her head, and I think I heard her mumble a chuckled “Unbelievable” under her breath.
Just like last time, she asks me to remove my shoes, socks, and shirt. I willingly oblige and lie down on the exam table. Like last time, Emma places the electrodes on my chest, wrists, and ankles. I press my lips together while she does because every slight touch of her fingertips on my skin makes me cringe, but I don’t want to cringe. I let out a slow breath when she steps back and pushes some buttons on the electrocardiograph.
“Can you tell me now what happened?” I ask quietly.
“You shouldn’t talk during the recording,” she responds.
“Then you do the talking.”
She lets out a deep sigh. “It was my fault. ”
I’m about to protest, but she holds up her hand to stop me. “No, I’m serious. I should have known better. There was this guy. I knew he was gonna cause trouble. He was high on something and looking for more. I should have waited for backup, but I came to his help when he fell on the floor. He seized the opportunity to attack me. He hit my face first.” She grimaces. “And then he punched me in my stomach.” She places her hand on her belly, rubbing slightly. She shakes her head as if to chase away the terrible memories.
I shouldn’t listen to this while being attached to a device that records my heart rate because, sure enough, my pulse quickens as I listen to how some fucking asshole attacked an innocent woman—a woman I care about more than I should.
Emma’s gaze falls on the display of the ECG, and she frowns at me. “Are you okay, Jack? You’re tachycardic.”
I close my eyes and nod. “Yeah, just pissed off at the guy who did this to you.”
Emma chuckles, and when I open my eyes, she presses some buttons on the device.
“All right,” she says. “This looks good, nothing out of the ordinary. I’ll show this to the doctor, and then you’re good to go.” She removes the electrodes from my body and hands me my shirt. I want to grab it, but she holds onto it.
“Jack, why are you here?” she asks with an almost painful expression.
My gaze falls on our hands holding my shirt. My fingers barely touch hers, and my heartbeat accelerates again, this time for a different reason. I look into her eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes that stare at me. “ Emma,” I whisper. “I needed to see you, see if you were all right. I care about you.”
“You do?” She speaks in the same low and careful voice, as if to match our whispered conversation with our delicate touch. Her gaze falls on my tattoo, and she lets go of my shirt. She lifts her fingers and outlines the ink on my skin with a gentle, barely-there stroke.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to keep the impending sense of unease at bay. The longer she touches me, the faster my heart beats. Little drops of cold sweat form on my forehead, and the moment’s sweet tenderness soon yields to the usual intense inner turmoil. Before the expected anxiety takes hold of me, I grab her wrist. She flinches and pulls back instantly.
“I—I’m sorry,” she says.
I grimace and run my hand over my face. “No, don’t be. It’s not your fault. I—It’s complicated.” With another sigh, I slip into my shirt, avoiding her gaze.
“What is?” Emma asks. “Why don’t you let anyone touch you?”
There’s the question I was expecting. “That’s a long story I won’t tell you tonight,” I say. “But I will, because I like you, Emma.”
Her big, beautiful eyes stare back at me when she whispers, “I like you too.” But all of a sudden, a shadow flashes over her face and a deep frown forms on her forehead. “Jack, you should know something.”
Before she can go on, another nurse walks in. “Hey, Emma, we need your help. Are you done here?”
Emma nods. “Yes, Diane. I’ll be there in a minute.” She scans the printout from the ECG. “Well, as I said, this looks fine.” She turns to rush out of the room .
“Emma, wait,” I call after her. “What did you want to tell me?”
She turns back to me and shakes her head. “I can’t tell you this in passing.”
“Are you working tomorrow night?” I ask.
“No, just this one night.”
“Go out to dinner with me.”
She takes a deep breath, and when I think she’ll turn me down, she nods. “Okay.”
I smile as I step toward her. I breathe in deeply before placing my hand on her bruised cheek. Emma blinks at me before closing her eyes and leaning into my touch. And because I still feel stupid, I lean closer until my lips brush over hers. A soft sigh escapes her—a sound I’d like to elicit from her again and again, but I won’t be able to, so I pull back before that unpleasant tingling starts in the pit of my stomach.
When I remove my hand from her cheek, her eyes flutter open, and the many questions I see in them make me sigh. I want to tell her so many things and answer all of those questions, but it scares the shit out of me. I don’t want to lose her before I even had her.
Emma clears her throat. “I gotta go.” She walks backward out of the room. Before she turns the corner, she lifts her hand. “Bye, Jack.”
“Bye, Peach.”
And before she vanishes, a slight blush suffuses her cheeks and she smiles.
On my way home, I enjoy the chilly night air. It helps me stop my racing mind and cool down after my encounter with Emma. It’s time to face my past and get over it so I can finally do what I want .
What I want is to kiss her, but I couldn’t do that tonight. I have to work on my issues. There’s no way around it anymore. If I want this to work—which I do—I need to do what I’ve been avoiding these past years. If I want to be able to touch her, feel her, let her touch me without being completely wasted, I have to get my act together.
So my first call in the morning will be to my therapist.