Page 81 of Wrecking Us
“Do you need to get any more bags or—”
I shake my head. “Nope. I travel light and anything I need I can get while I’m here if I don’t have it, plus… I had the designer stock the closets with a few basics.”
“Designer?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Oh, yeah, I, uh… hired an interior designer to, you know… decorate the house. My house. And then I asked if she could like… stock the fridge and stuff, maybe fill the closets with a few things—”
Hudson blinks, shaking his head. “Wow, okay.” His voice is a little defensive.
“What? Is that a problem?” I tense, worried I’ve somehow done something or said something that pissed him off.
He clears his throat. “No, I just… thought maybe we would do that stuff together or something.”
His words hit me harder than a damn brick. I hadn’t thought once about asking Hudson to help me decorate or buy stuff, because I was so excited and wanted to impress him, and now I feel like a complete asshole.
“I’m sorry, I just thought—”
He shakes his head. “It’s fine. Really. Let’s just get out of here. I don’t like airports.”
I nod as he reaches for my suitcase. His hand slides over mine as he grabs the handle, and for a second he doesn’t move it, just squeezes my hand gently and then pulls it away from my grip. I follow him out to his car wordlessly, feeling more than a little guilty. When we get to his car, he tosses my suitcase in the trunkand we get in. It’s quiet, until he turns to me, his amber eyes a little warmer.
“I’m really happy you’re here,” he says and instantly, I settle a fraction. I give him a genuine smile.
“Me, too,” I say softly. “Are you nervous?”
Hudson looks at me in confusion. “Why would I be nervous?”
“I don’t know,” I say, glancing out the window.
“Are you?” he asks.
“Maybe a little,” I admit.
Hudson starts the car. “About the house or—” His voice is careful.
“The house. Yeah.”
I lean across the center console, unable to fight the prevalent need bounding within me.
It’s been a month. Barely thirty days, but it feels like both the blink of an eye and an eternity.
We’ve talked every day. Texted. Video chatted. It’s not like I left and disappeared, but…
I’m suddenly very aware of just how much I’ve missed him. Hudson’s gaze drifts to my mouth and he leans in a little closer until he closes the space between us and kisses me. My entire body relaxes. It’s not rushed or chaste, but slow and hard. It’s not a greeting, but a promise.
I open my mouth without hesitation and slide my tongue into his as I grasp his neck, his hair tickling the tops of my knuckles.
And then he pulls away and smirks. He clears his throat as he settles in his seat and turns the car on, the GPS coming on the screen. I punch in the coordinates, my heart in my throat.
“Alright, time to go home,” I say nervously.
When we pull up to my driveway, I can’t help but gape in awe.
“Holy shit,” I say as I take in the sprawling cabin. I’d fallen in love with the modern rustic A-Frame design the moment I saw the photos. The large glass window that goes from the roofto the stone trim is bigger than I thought it would be, and the Christmas tree is front and center with nothing but lights. No ornaments or garland, just twinkling lights that cast a glow on the rest of the modernly furnished house.
“It’s so… you,” Hudson says flatly.
I get out of the car, slowly walking up to the front. Hudson hangs behind me and I hear the faint thud of the trunk. I slide my hand into my pocket, feeling both keys in there—mine and the spare I plan to give Hudson later… at some point. I’ve never given anyone who wasn’t my mother a key to my place. And though it makes sense—Hudson’sheremore than me, and I will probably need him to keep an eye on it if only to make sure everything is good once in a while— it still feels big. Bigger than it should.
