Page 42 of Promise Me

I’m still not supposed to look at it for longer than a phone call here or there, but I need to know more than Hudson told me yesterday.

I grab the phone, set a five-minute timer, and pull up the Internet.

I type his name in. It’s not like he’s going to burst in here and catch me, but I still hunch over as if I don’t want anyone to see what I’m doing.

A few articles pop up, but I need more specifics, so I type inHudson Asher hockey injury.

Another round of articles pops up, but the first headline readsHudson Asher Loses It All, Fame, Skill, His Team, and His Girlfriend.

I hover my thumb over it, but then toss my phone to the end of the bed.

I know it’s out there for all to read, but it’s not their story to tell.

Should I try to go back to sleep or just bite the bullet and go to the bakery? I opened it for a reason. Maybe if I go back there enough, that reason will come back to me.

I pick sleeping, but just as my head hits the pillow, my alarm blares so loudly that I’m pretty sure it wakes up the entire block.

Who the hell turned that on?

My heart practically beats out of my chest as I fumble with the phone. Of course, in a moment like this, it’s as if I’ve never used a phone in my life.

Lucky for me, even though it’s a newer phone than I last remember, the manufacturer keeps the layout the same.

I blow out a breath when the beeping finally shuts off.

But then there’s a knock at my bedroom door, and my heart races in a whole new way.

I open it to find a shirtless, sleepy, messy-haired Hudson on the other side, leaning on the doorframe with a yawn. It’s a lot to take in, but his bright gaze hits mine, and he smirks.

“Is this going to be a daily thing?”

“What?”

“Waking up early and attempting to sneak out. Because I have to tell you, Sadie, you’re not very sneaky.”

I let out a bubble of laughter.

“I wasn’t going to sneak out today—or well, I hadn’t decided yet. I wake up, but that's not what my brain tells me to do.”

He studies me for a moment.

“What does it tell you to do?”

“Wake up, work out, find a bunch of books to buy, and then research how to file a liquor license.”

Now he’s looking at me like I’ve gone mad.

“I had plans three years ago that never happened,” I say to clear it up for him.

He lets out his breath.

“All right, it’s still dark. Do you want to change, and we can go work out, or do you want to go to the bakery?”

“We?”

He nods. “I’m fully aware that you can do all these things on your own, but let’s wait till it’s been a least one-week post hospital at least, yeah?”

I want to argue, but I don’t.

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