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Is the bad boy capable of sensitivity?
“You know,” Catherine leans back on her hand, “I don’t think he’s as bad as you first thought. Maybe…” She hesitates. “Maybe this mysterious love you think he’s supposed to have isn’t—”
“It is.” I crumple the card and toss it away. Rolling over, I bury my face in the pillow. “He belongs with y—”
“Who?” She blinks innocently.
“Someone else.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to pretend my heart isn’t beating fast.
No matter what, I can’t fall in love inside this movie.
And I absolutely cannot fall for Hawk.
14
HAWK
“So what do you think, Doc? Will I live?”
“I’d say you have a fifty-fifty chance.” Wrinkles deepen around his leathery face. “Your memory loss is troubling though.”
I frown. Since the earthquake, I’ve been losing memories of my childhood. I can recall what I had for breakfast this morning, but not my eight birthday or my tenth or my fifth grade trip to the zoo.
It wouldn’t bother me, except my memories are all I have left of my mother.
I need them back.
“Should I take more scans?” I ask.
“It’ll only prove my hunch. Retrograde amnesia caused by head trauma.”
“Is there something I can do?”
“The memories will come back on their own,” Doc assures me. “And if you use the ointment I prescribed, your scar should fade in three to five weeks.”
“Good. Can’t harm the money-maker.”
“The money-maker, huh?” Doc rubs his whiskered chin and murmurs half-jokingly. “Is that why I’m broke?”
“Probably.”
“Sometimes, Hawk, you’re too honest.”
“I’ve been accused of worse.”
Doc scribbles something on his notepad. “How is your friend feeling this morning?”
“My friend?”
“The one you got the medicine for.”
Heat sears my cheeks, but I play it cool. “She’s okay.”
“Is she?” He tears a piece of paper out of his notepad. “I thought someone was dying the way you barged into my house last night. I’m relieved the emergency was just a stomach flu.”
“If she’s in pain, I’m in pain, Doc.”
