Page 88 of Hate You Later
“I wish you wouldn’t go.” He tips my chin toward him and gazes down into my eyes. But he doesn’t kiss me. He’s searching for something, but I’m not sure I can give it to him. I look away.
“That was awkward.” I shrug.
“It was,” he agrees, absentmindedly petting Cookie. “So, I can imagine what you’re probably thinking.”
“It’s none of my business,” I say.
“Yeah, but I want to tell you.” He continues. “Ashley and I had a moment. Wasn’t even a thing. More like a near miss. It was never going to be anything more. But she thought she could change my mind if she was persistent enough. She adopted a cat and put my name and address on the form, like we were a couple.”
“Oh my God,” I say. “That’s crazy. Does that sort of thing happen to you a lot?”
“Yeah, it was crazy.” He nods and runs a hand through his hair. “And no, that specific sort of thing doesn’t happen, but …” I can tell he’s got stories. “Anyway, I couldn’t send that poor beast back to a kill shelter, so I agreed to keep him while she went to work on a project in Chicago. I really had no idea the company would bring her back here to stage the lofts.”
“No worries. You don’t owe me any kind of explanation.” I fish in my bag for the car keys.
“No, really, Georgia. I didn’t know. I didn’t want her to come. There isn’t anything between Ashley and I, and I don’t want there to be. She had the wrong idea about the nature of our relationship right from the start.”
“Which was?” I can’t help myself.
“No relationship.”
“But that’s not what she wanted, right? What was she looking for?”
“The phrase trophy wife comes to mind.”
“And what were you looking for?”
Hudson sighs, then straightens and stretches in the lamplight outside the lofts, raising his arms above his head and doing a few neck circles. He’s avoiding my gaze. And still, I’m mesmerized by the sliver of skin peeking out between his T-shirt and jeans. I have to look away.
“Your shirt’s inside out,” I say.
“Yours is buttoned wrong.” He laughs, and before I can stop him, he is reaching out and unbuttoning me, quickly and deftly, correcting my mistake. There is heat from his hands. The brush of his knuckles against my throat gives me goose bumps. He finishes and steps back.
“Come to my sister’s birthday party this weekend,” he says. “Please?”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“I want you to meet Lilly in person. She needs more role models like you. Strong, independent, ass-kicking.”
“Flatter much?”
“Lilly may be twelve, but even she knows our stepbrother is kind of an asshole. You are her hero now. Plus, you would be doing me a huge favor. I could use a little help with my ex-stepmother.”
“What’s up with your ex-stepmother?”
“Eggplant emoji, for starters.” Hudson shakes his head and looks at the stars. “Honestly, I haven’t told this to anyone, Georgia, so you better not repeat it.”
“Eggplant emoji?” I ask.
“Yes, eggplant emoji, flames, hearts, etc.”
“Your stepmother sends you eggplant emoji, Hudson? You do know that’s not okay, right?”
“I know, but it’s always this gray area. Like was it an accident, or was she doing it on purpose? Like the eggplants are followed up with a random string of other emoji. And there was the butt grab that one time when she was walking behind me and ‘tripped.’” He makes air quotes with his fingers.
“Sounds like she’s gaslighting you.” I frown.
“If you came with me, not only would Lilly be thrilled, but I’d feel much safer too,” Hudson pleads. Then he pulls me into his arms, holding me close, gazing down.
