Too Much Information (Awkward Love 3)

I jump up and breath in deeply. I’m angry at myself for giving into some stupid moment that was only created because of the situation we’re in. We never would’ve kissed if we weren’t locked out here. If things felt messed up before, I’d just made them a whole lot messier.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “That was my fault entirely. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Thankfully it’s so dark that he can’t see how red my face has gone.

“It was hardly all your fault,” he says, getting to his feet. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but I was pretty into that kiss as well.”

“Oh, I noticed,” I say before I can stop myself.

He laughs, while my face goes even hotter. I reach up, inadvertently touching my lips which are still tingling from the feel of his mouth.

Before I can say anything else, the door springs open.

Sighing with relief, I brush past the surprised security guard, who is standing next to the door and I head down to the staffroom. Doctor Ballan has left for the day, so I send her a message, explaining what happened. Lucky for me, she’s understanding and figured something had happened. She goes as far as blaming herself for not warning me about the door in the first place. Apparently, all the staff has been complaining about that door for a long time, and the response has always been to just not go out there.

As I stand outside the hospital, I don’t know whether to risk going home or avoid it for as long as I can. What are the chances of me getting back there before him? I’m surprised that it’s only eight o’clock, but I guess it’s late enough that I can justify going to bed if I’m back first, considering the day I’ve had.The relief I feel when I walk into my empty apartment is incredible. I quickly grab myself a drink and something to eat, bolting into my room when I hear the front door unlock. My heart pounds as I lean against the inside of my door, listening to the sound of him moving around inside the apartment. This is so childish. We’re grown adults, and I’m hiding in my bedroom to avoid talking to him like a freaking adult? I shake my head then bang it softly against the wood. I feel so stupid. I shake my head and creep over to my bed and sprawl across it, then I reach for my phone to text Becca.

Me: What are you up to?

Becca: Not much. You?

Me: Oh, you know, the usual. Hiding in my room to avoid talking to Luke—who, by the way, I just kissed.

Just as I expect, she calls me immediately. I smile as I answer because I feel like I’m fourteen again. Only I didn’t even act like this when I was fourteen. My biggest crush back then was on one of my male nurses, Gabe.

“You kissed him?” I can tell by the tone of her voice she’s smirking. “Hold up, did I miss the part where you were actually talking to him now?”

“It’s a long story,” I tell her. “We got locked outside on the roof together at work. I didn’t have a choice but to talk to him. It turns out he’s a nice guy.”

“Fine, but kissing him?” Becca laughs. “And now you’re hiding in your room like a twelve-year-old girl.”

“No need to remind me of that. I know how childish I’m being.” I huff.

“How about I come over?” she suggests. “Maybe having me there will ease the tension between you both? Have you eaten? I’ll bring dinner if not.”

“Okay, and yes, I’ve eaten,” I agree. “See you soon.”

I take a deep breath and then walk into the living room to wait for Becca like a grown-up. I push aside my anxieties when I see Luke sitting on the couch. He looks up from his spot on the couch just as I’m staring at those lips.

“Hey. I thought you must’ve gone to sleep early or something,” he says.

He says “or something” like he knows I’m avoiding him.

“No, just calling my mom,” I lie. And now I feel bad that I haven’t called Mom all week. “I have a friend coming over,” I add. Like I need his permission. He shrugs.

“Okay. If you want me to give you some space, I can go out somewhere.”

My eyes widen. He thinks I’m inviting a guy over.

“No, not that kind of friend.” I’m quick to correct him.

“The thought never entered my mind,” he assures me.

“It’s just Becca, the girl you met briefly at the hospital,” I rush to explain.

I don’t want to draw the conversation back to that night, but that’s all having Becca here is going to do, anyway. Why did I think letting her come over was a good way to ease the tension? The only thing Becca is known for is making embarrassing situations worse. Becca causes tension; she doesn’t ease it. Before I stress thinking about it anymore, she knocks on the door.