Page 50 of Wrecking Us
“That’s a good thing,” she adds. “Whoever’s got you all twitterpated must be pretty amazing.”
I freeze at her insinuation just as my phone vibrates in my pocket. I don’t think twice about checking it. A faint smirk forms on my face when I see the notification.
Huds
You busy?
“So… what part of Minnesota?” she asks as I stare at Hudson’s text.
“Minneapolis,” I say, quickly tapping out a response as I do my best to shield my phone from her without being obvious about it.
I swear she’s got a sixth sense about this kind of thing.
Not that Hudson and I have athing.I mean, we are friends. College friends who used to play on the same team. Long-distance friends who text each other almost every day.
Friends who have felt each other’s dicks.
Me
Yeah, at lunch with a…
I think about what to say. It’s not that I’m afraid to tell him Mandy and I are friends, but I know things are delicate where Hudson and his family are concerned. Which is why I haven’t told Mandy about our rekindled friendship. Maybe one day it’ll come up, but today isn’t that day.
Or maybe I just want to keep Hudson and ourfriendshipto myself for a little while. Until I can figure out what to say.
I settle on colleague. It’s not a lie. Mandy is technically a colleague, or my work wife, sort of.
The Bonnie to my Corporate Clyde in the eyes of the sports nutrition industry.
Huds
Boring
I let out a chuckle, imagining him sitting at his desk, bored out of his mind. He only texts me when he’s bored. Or so he says. Still I get a handful of texts every day asking what I’m up to or getting a string of Reels to watch. Sometimes I wonder what he does all day if he has so much time to text me. I barely have time to breathe between flights and events and admin shit.
Not that I’m complaining. It’s nice to have someone check in with me. I look forward to those texts more than I’ll admit.
And, to be fair, he usually texts me at the same time during the day. Maybe breaks?
“You know, Hudson’s only about an hour from Minneapolis,” Mandy says, pulling my attention from my phone.
“Huh?”
“Hudson. You know, your bro bestie or whatever. My anti-social step-brother.”
“Right,” I say, licking my lips as I take a sip of my gifted Manhattan. “I knew that.”
Mandy smirks at me.
“But…” Her eyes glint with mischief. I know that look.
Fuck.
She’s plotting something, and I’m not sure I want to know what it is, especially if it involves Hudson. I haven’t told her much of anything about our last get-together that was nearly three months ago, now. She knows we hung out, but that’s all I can afford to tell her when I can barely process what happened myself.
I think about that night at the hotel a lot. All the time, actually.
But neither of us have brought it up since. We haven’t mentioned a single word about it.
