“Troy –” I whispered back and Hawk spoke.
“Friendly advice. Next time, get your head outta your ass and stake your claim.”
My body went solid but it still turned woodenly toward Hawk and I snapped loudly, “Hawk!”
Hawk looked down at me. “Man to man, babe, he’s a man, he can take it and he’s gotta know he f**ked up.”
For the first time in my life I was wishing murder wasn’t illegal.
“I can see you’re not in the mood for an intervention,” Tracy said softly to Troy, “but, um… he’s kind of right, honey.”
This time, my mouth dropped open as I stared at my sweet, wouldn’t-do-or-say-a-thing-to-hurt-a-soul Tracy saying something that hurt a soul.
And Troy looked at her just like I’d figure someone would look whose soul was just wounded.
Then he jerked around and started to go.
I pulled away from Hawk, rushed forward and grabbed his hand, saying, “Troy –”
He stopped and shook his hand free, his eyes narrowed on me. “Don’t,” he whispered.
“Troy –” I started, again.
“You need a washer changed or you’re freezing your ass off because your furnace doesn’t work, Gwen, don’t call my number. Call Rambo there,” he jerked his head toward Hawk, “and hope he knows how to use a f**king wrench.”
Then he walked out my front door.
When he did I swung to face Hawk and Tracy.
“What the hell?” I yelled.
“Babe,” Hawk replied.
“I know,” Tracy said softly. “It was harsh, honey, but Cam isn’t here and someone had to say it. She and I have been talking about it for ages. He should have made his move or moved on. He didn’t do either. Now that you have Hawk, maybe he’ll forget about you and move on.”
Cam and her had been talking about it for ages? Why hadn’t they talked to me?
I didn’t ask this. Instead I shouted, “He’s already moved on! He’s got a girlfriend.”
Tracy waved her hand in front of her face. “Hardly. Every girl he picks he picks so they’d be someone he could drop like a rock if you gave him an in. I don’t like her. Cam doesn’t like her. You don’t like her. She’s a whiner. No one likes a whiner. Even Troy. Therefore, easy to drop like a rock.”
I looked at Tracy. Then I looked at Hawk. Then I looked at my audience of commandos.
Then I went into denial.
“This isn’t happening,” I announced. “I can’t do this right now. My Pad Thai is already cold. I need to nuke it, eat it and get work done. No one exists. I live in a world all alone.”
Then I stomped through Tracy and Hawk, up my stairs and to my food.
When I’d grabbed my noodles and turned around, Hawk was in the door.
“Babe,” he said.
“I don’t see you. You don’t exist,” I informed him.
“Gwen, someone had to tell him.”
“No, they didn’t and if they did, it didn’t have to be you,” I shot back.