Page 34 of Promise Me

“How do you know how I like my coffee?” I ask as we sit at a table by the front window.

“Took a guess from when I’d spend weekends at your house in high school. Your dad would always be mad that the creamer was gone. You’d run and hide.”

I laugh and take a sip. I almost spit it out.

“Oh god, that’s sweet.”

“Too much?” he asks.

“Let me try yours,” I say, grabbing his mug before he can reply. I sip and then sigh with a happiness I can't describe. “I think my taste buds have changed.”

Hudson doesn’t say anything. He just stares at his cup.

I pass it back without a word. “So, tell me the story while I get myself a new cup.”

Oddly enough, when I reach for a new mug and the coffee to scoop out, I know exactly where it is. Is that muscle memory?

“It’s a short story, really. Two days before your mom's funeral, I was in a game. The blade from someone on the opposing team’s skate hit the back of my left knee in just the right spot where my gear couldn’t stop it.”

“Fuck,” I say, slamming my cup down and wincing. “Ouch.”

His lips twitch into a brief smile. My reaction must take Hudson by surprise.

“Yeah, ouch.”

“How long were you in the hospital?” I ask, my new cup hot and ready as I rejoin him at the table.

“It was long enough for them to tell me that would be my last game as a professional hockey player.”

Another gasp hits me.

“But … hockey was your dream, and you were so freaking good at it.”

He smiles. “You watched me play?”

“How could I not? You were mesmerizing out there.”

Oh god, he was never supposed to know that. I sit up taller.

I’m about to say something to steer the conversation away because the way he’s smiling at me makes me feel funny, but someone hits the window outside.

We both jump and look at my brother. His brows are furrowed, and his hands are on his hips.

“What the hell?” Linc shouts loud enough for us to hear through the window. He points at the door.

I open it for him and calmly return to my seat.

I can feel the fumes radiating from my brother. It’s probably because he’s up so damn early for who knows what reason.

“I told you to call me if she tries to come to work.” Linc points at Hudson.

“She’s not working.”

I almost laugh, but I hold it together.

“We’re drinking coffee,” I say, holding my cup up. “Do you want me to make you some?”

Linc’s gaze bounces between me and Hudson.

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