“I love you. Now why don’t we go to our bedroom so I can show you just how much.”
“That’s all you care about. Getting me naked,” I tease.
“Have you looked at yourself recently? Who could blame me?” He wraps his hand around my upper thigh and squeezes.
“You’re hilarious,” I say sarcastically.
“I’m gonna show you hilarious.” He shifts beneath me, pushing out of his chair with next to no effort, taking me right along with him.
“Hudson.” I laugh as he pushes his way inside and kicks the door closed with his foot. “What are you doing?”
“I thought that was pretty obvious. I’m taking my girl to bed so I can make damn sure every time she climbs under those covers all she can think about is my body moving above hers.”
“Pretty sure that’s already been accomplished. But by all means, I’m at your disposal,” I say, giggling when he drops me down on top of the bed.
“That’s what I like to hear,” he growls, covering my body like a blanket seconds later.
—-
“Promise you’ll text me the minute you land.” My arms cling so tightly to Hudson they ache.
“I promise.”
“And you’ll call every day?” I ask, fighting back the tears welling behind my eyes.
“Every single day.”
“I don’t want to let go,” I say, turning my face into his shirt.
“I don’t want you to let go.” He sweeps my hair to the side before kissing the top of my head.
“I wish this wasn’t so hard.”
“It’s not goodbye, Lennon. I’ll see you in a few weeks,” he soothes.
“I know.” I sigh, finally letting my hold on him drop as I step back.
“When you get home, check the top drawer of your nightstand.” He grins, leaning forward to press his lips to mine, but pulling back way too quickly.
“Why?” I question.
“Just do it.” He grins. “I gotta go.” He checks his watch, adjusting the duffel bag on his shoulder. “I love you.” He leans in, capturing my chin.
“I love you too.” His mouth presses to mine once more.
“I’ll call you later,” he murmurs against my lips before pulling away.
“Be safe.”
“Always.” He winks, then turns, leaving me standing in the middle of the airport forced to watch him walk away.
—-
My eyes are sore from crying by the time I make it back to the beach house. I know it sounds ridiculous. It’s not like I won’t see him again. But there’s something else there. Some underlying concern that seems to fuel the intensity of my emotions that I have yet to fully admit to myself.
Tossing the keys to the Chevy on the kitchen island, I take a long minute to look around my new house. I’ve spent weeks inside these walls. Hours designing and decorating, but not once did I ever actually believe it would be mine.
Crossing into the living room, I grab Hudson’s shirt off the back of the chair from last night when I peeled it off of him while he was trying to make me pancakes well after midnight. Lifting the fabric to my nose, I inhale deeply, his scent so prominent I’d almost swear he was still here.
Tossing the shirt over my shoulder, I head toward the bedroom and deposit it onto the bed before peeling off my jeans and thin sweater. Digging out a pair of yoga pants from the dresser, I put them on before grabbing Hudson’s shirt and sliding the material over my head, his scent engulfing me the moment I do.
Pulling back the light gray comforter, I climb into bed, wishing he was here so I could wrap my arms around him.
The instant my head hits the pillow my eyelids grow heavy. Hudson and I were up most of the night, trying to make the most of the time we had together. Needless to say I’m exhausted. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, relaxing further into the mattress.
I’m on the cusp of sleep when I remember what Hudson said at the airport. Shooting upright, I twist, pulling open the top drawer of my night stand.
My heart beats erratically as I pull out the large brown envelope laying on top of the random junk I keep in my nightstand. My name scrawled across the front in Hudson’s handwriting.
Peeling open the clasps, I pull back the flap and peer inside. Flipping the envelope upside down, a folded piece of paper and flash drive tumble onto my lap. With shaky hands I quickly unfold the paper, reaching over to click on the bedside lamp so I can see a little better.
Lennon,
If you ever find yourself questioning whether or not we can do this, watch this and remember how much I love you.
Hudson
I’m out of the bed and padding through the house toward the office without a second thought. Sliding into the chair behind the large mahogany desk, I flip open my laptop and impatiently wait for it to load before sliding the flash drive into its port.
The moment the folder pops open, I double click on the only folder on the drive – labeled Lennon. Inside is a media file which I click on, my breath catching in my throat when I’m met with Hudson’s face on my computer screen.
It’s only been less than two hours since I left him at the airport and I already miss him so much it’s hard to breathe.
“Hey Lennon.” Hudson smiles and tears instantly form behind my eyes. “So, I’ve never made a video of myself before. Hopefully you can see my face right now and aren’t staring at my feet.” He laughs and the sound warms my chest. “I wanted there to be a way for you to see me whenever you wanted, so I decided to record this. Although now that I’m doing it, it feels a little silly.” He shakes his head and smiles. “Anyway, I wrote something for you. It happened in the strangest way. Normally it takes me days to write the lyrics for a song and even then only about half of the original song makes it to the final cut. But this song, it came out of nowhere and took me all of twenty minutes to put down on paper.” He holds up a crinkled sheet of paper with words scribbled all over it.
“It was the day after we moved in. I had run out to pick up a few things and when I got home you were nowhere to be found. I searched the entire house for you before deciding to check outside. Sure enough, there you were. Your butt in the sand, knees pulled up to your chest, gaze locked out on the water. You looked so beautiful. So peaceful. And that’s when the song hit me like a bolt of lightning. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed the first piece of paper I could find. I had the entire song written before you even moved. I swear I could have watched you sit there for hours.” He pauses, his mind seeming to be elsewhere.
“So.” He clears his throat. “Here it is. It doesn’t have a title yet,” he says, snagging his guitar that’s next to him before dropping it into his lap. “But it’s probably the most real thing I’ve ever written. I hope you like it.” His fingers begin to move across the strings, playing a slow, painfully beautiful melody that has an instant wave of goose bumps peppering every inch of my skin.
When he opens his mouth and his incredible voice washes over me, there’s nothing I can do to stop the tears from pouring.
The song is more open to interpretation then some of his others, but I feel like I know exactly what he’s saying. Maybe because I feel it too – the charge, the unexplained pull between us. I feel it every single time he enters a room. This song confirms that Hudson does too.
By the end of the video my heart is so full I feel like it may burst. And while the tears are still flowing freely down my cheeks, they’re not the sad tears I was crying earlier. No, these are tears of pure and unimaginable joy.
Because at the end of the day I know this man loves me and god do I love him. I love him so much that some days I feel like I can’t breathe. I love him so much I can’t help but expect the worse at every turn; sometimes working myself up to the point of near hysteria. But then he’ll walk into a room and it’s like standing outside on a perfect day. The warm sun on my skin and the ocean breeze on my face. He makes everything feel right. Like nothing bad can ever happen as long as he’s by my side
.
And that’s what I choose to cling to. Not the distance that separates us or the many hurtles I’m sure we’ll have to jump. Not the maybes or what ifs. Not any of the noise that clouds our world. But how he makes me feel. How much I know we love each other. And what I know we’re both willing to risk to see this through.
Hudson Demasi isn’t just the man I love anymore. He’s a part of my very core. Engraved so deeply into my heart that I couldn’t get rid of him even if I tried.
Life may be uncertain, but my love for this man isn’t.
Chapter Thirteen
“I ordered for you and got you a Cosmo.” Emma gestures to the cocktail glass in front of me the moment I slide into the seat across from her at Peggo’s Italian Eatery.
It’s one of mine and Emma’s favorite places to eat but it feels like forever since we’ve been here. When she suggested it yesterday I jumped at the chance. I’ve been craving their lobster ravioli for weeks.
“Thank god. I need it,” I tell her, shrugging out of my jacket. It’s the beginning of December and temperatures have plummeted into the low fifties. I know it gets much colder up North but for me this is pushing it. I hate cold weather.
“Rough day?” She smirks, lifting her own Cosmo to her lips and taking a sip.
“I hate that we’re on separate projects right now,” I whine, reaching for my drink. “And I hate even more that I got stuck with Dave.” I crinkle my nose and Emma laughs, knowing that Dave is by far my least favorite out of all the contractors we use. He’s just so arrogant and egotistical and always thinks he knows better than me.
“I’m sorry, Len.”
“No you’re not. You hate him as much as I do,” I scoff, taking a long pull of my drink.
“I told Dad he needs to cut him loose. He’s such a dick. But he runs a tight crew and gets the job done. You know that’s more important to Dad than whether or not we like him.”
“I know. He’s just so frustrating. And the days suck without you.” I lean back in my chair and sigh.
“Agreed. Dad has taken on so much recently. I told him to stop spreading himself so thin. And us for that matter.”
“I thought two projects at one time was bad. I’ll be lucky if I have any hair left after getting these three done. He needs to hire another designer if he’s going to keep buying every renovation project he finds. I can’t keep up.”
“I’m right there with you,” she agrees. “But, at least it means more money. Not that you need it with that hottie country star of yours.”
Just the mention of Hudson’s name causes a familiar ache in my stomach to come fluttering to the surface. It’s only been five weeks and already I feel like he’s been gone for months. I miss him so much that some days it’s physically painful.
“His money is not my money,” I remind her, having been very adamant that after the house I not take any type of handouts from Hudson.
Of course Emma thinks I’m crazy. She’s of the mind that when you’re with someone what’s theirs is yours. I say that doesn’t become true until you’re married.
“Yeah. Yeah.” She rolls her eyes. “So how is Hudson anyway?”
“He’s good.” I take a drink before continuing. “Extremely busy.”
“I bet he’s having the time of his life. Could you imagine what that must feel like? Being up on stage for all those screaming fans. It seems unreal to even think about.”
“It really does,” I agree, trying to push past the uncertainty I feel every time I think about how much fun Hudson might be having.
It’s irrational and completely unwarranted, but I’d be insane not to worry a little. I mean, I am dating Hudson James after all. A man that half the people in this country would probably screw without a second thought if given the chance.
“I still have a hard time wrapping my head around it most days. Who he is, I mean.”
“So do I.” She laughs, pulling a smile to my lips for the first time today. “So when do you get to see him?”
“He’ll be home for Christmas, but only for like five days. We’re going to spend Christmas Eve with my family, then fly to Texas the day after Christmas to visit his family.”
“Spending the holidays with each other’s families. That’s when you know it’s serious.”
“He bought me a beach house, Emma. I think we’re way past that.”
“Yeah, but anyone can buy a house. It’s the important things that define you as a couple. The fact that he’s so open with you. That he wants you to be a part of his family. It says a lot.”
“You think so?” I ask, needing her reassurance.
“I know so.” She grins. “Do you need to go home and watch the video again?” She cocks her head to the side and looks at me expectantly.
It’s what she’s done from the moment I told her about the video Hudson made before he left. It’s like her and Hudson are in cahoots and every time doubt starts to creep in she’s there to steer me back to the video he made for that very purpose. To reassure me, to comfort me, to remind me that he loves me.
“Hush.” I stick my tongue out at her before draining the remainder of my drink in one long swallow.
I swear this has been the week from hell. Not only has work been super stressful but I also haven’t gotten to talk to Hudson much over the past couple of days. So far today we’ve only managed to share a handful of texts where I filled him in on my day.
He calls when he can and if he’s able we Facetime but it’s never enough. I don’t just want to see him through a screen. I want to hold him, smell him, feel his hands on my body, and his lips pressed against mine.
I’m experiencing the worst sort of withdrawal from the best kind of drug.
Emma starts to say something else but her attention goes to the waiter who appears at my right, a plate in each hands.
“Ladies,” he says, sitting my lobster ravioli in front of me and Emma’s usual lasagna in front of her. “Is there anything else I can get for you right now?”
“How about two more of these?” I gesture to our cocktail glasses.
He smiles and nods before walking away.
“God this looks so good.” I inhale deeply. “I’m glad you suggested it. Had you not I may have had to get takeout one day soon. I’ve been having dreams about this ravioli.”
“You would.” She giggles, finishing off the remainder of her Cosmo just as the waiter reappears with two more.
Over the course of the next hour, Emma and I proceed to stuff ourselves sick on pasta and cosmos. By the time we exit the restaurant just after eight, I feel nearly comatose.
Because we had more to drink than I planned, I leave my car in the parking lot and catch a ride with Robert and Emma who drop me off at my house.
I’m fumbling to get my key in the door when my phone blares loudly from my jacket pocket. It’s Hudson’s song – Tequila Haze. I set it as my ringtone the day he left.
Finally managing to get the door open, I pull the device from my pocket to see Hudson’s name flashing across the screen. Kicking the door closed behind me, I click the lock in place as I answer.
“Hey.” I sound winded and immediately wonder if getting into the house was really that strenuous. I might be a bit more buzzed than I originally thought.
“Hey. Why are you out of breath?”
“It’s the damn doors fault. They really should make key holes easier to navigate.”
“I take it cosmos with Emma went well.” He chuckles.
“A little too well I think.” I kick off one shoe in the foyer but don’t manage to get the other off until I’m in the kitchen, immediately going for the fridge to get a bottle of water.
“You didn’t drive, did you?”
“Robert dropped me off. And don’t worry, I left my car at the restaurant, not the Chevy.”
“I don’t care which car you left as long as you made it home safely.”
“Well I did.” I twist the cap off the bottle and take a long pull. “What are you
doing right now?”
“We’re on the road. Somewhere in Virginia I think.”
“You don’t even know where you are?” I laugh, setting my water on the breakfast bar before shrugging out of my jacket.
“It all blends together, babe.”
“So how are you?”
“I’m good.” He lets out a slow sigh. “Exhausted, but really, really good.”
“Where’s your show tomorrow?” I ask, not one hundred percent sure.”
“We’re in Philadelphia tomorrow. Then upstate New York the next night.”
“I feel like you just keep getting further and further away.” I pout out my lip even though he can’t see me.
“That’s because I am.” He laughs. “But don’t worry. Two more weeks and I’ll be as close to you as humanly possible,” he promises, his voice growing thick.
“I think I like the sound of that.”
“Good, because I’m going to bury myself inside of you and not leave for days.”
“You realize I’m going to hold you to that.”
“I hope you do.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “So how drunk are you exactly?”
“That depends. Why are you asking?”
“I was just wondering if you’re drunk enough that I could get you to send me a picture or two.”
“What kind of picture?”
“You know what kind of picture,” he says and only then does my drunk brain seem to catch up.
“You want me to send you naked pictures?” I gape into the phone.
“I need something to get me through until the real thing is in front of me.”
I was prepared to tell him no, but after that response I find myself saying something else entirely.
“Okay. Give me five minutes.” I smile, the wheels starting to turn. “I’ll call you back.”
“Okay.” He laughs. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” I quickly hang up and head for the bedroom.
Two minutes later I’m laying on our bed, dressed in a barely there nightie with the straps pulled down, my bare breasts exposed. Using the selfie stick Emma got me, I’m snapping pictures with my phone.
Tequila Burn Page 7
