“Thanks, man. You didn’t have to but I appreciate it,” Hudson says, setting the pizzas down on the end of the entertainment center.
He digs his wallet from his back pocket and hands some money over to Gaige. His voice is low so I can’t make out what he’s saying but I can hear Gaige mumble “fucker” to him as he shakes his head with a scowl, lining his face briefly before transforming into an easygoing grin.
“Night, Rae. You two kids have fun,” Gaige calls over Hudson’s shoulder before he walks away.
“How do you know Gaige?” I ask because I’m nosy as hell.
“Next to Tucker, he’s the best friend I have. I’ve known him since we were seventeen and he started working at Jacked Up. He still works there for me and delivers pizza part-time at Harold’s for extra money,” Hudson explains.
I can see the love in Hudson’s eyes when he talks about Gaige. It’s sweet to see that he actually cares about his friends like that. Refreshing change from the men I’ve previously dated.
My most recent ex, Jared, was not one to share his feelings—with anyone. We were together for almost a year before I called it quits. He wanted all the physical attachments without the actual feelings. It worked for a while because—let’s be honest—everyone has an itch they want scratched, so I can’t say it was a total wash. And I liked him a lot—more than he liked me, obviously. After several months of it, though, I felt like he was never going to reciprocate my feelings at all, so I broke things off about six months ago. It was an easy decision to make, and the way he just simply walked away clued me in to how little we were both invested.
But Hudson shows emotion and it doesn’t seem like he’s afraid to do so. If he’s that open and honest about his relationships with his friends, I can only imagine how he is in an actual relationship. His past girlfriends should count themselves lucky, because so far, he’s a catch—one I’m fairly certain I want to hold on to.
Hudson
I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful for a bathroom break in my entire life because I desperately needed this moment to breathe.
Her favorite movie is my favorite movie. Her favorite band is my favorite band. I know that doesn’t really seem like a big deal, but it’s cool as hell. It definitely makes me like her even more than I already did, that’s for sure.
What if she sees signs of Joey here? She still doesn’t know I’m a father and I’m not sure that I’m ready to tell her yet. It’s not that I’m ashamed of being a single father, because I’m most definitely not. I love Joey with all my heart and wouldn’t trade my becoming a father for anything. It’s just that this is only our second date and I don’t want to scare her away. I know that being a parent isn’t something most people our age find attractive.
I’m also freaking out because she’s in my apartment. She’s in my apartment. I know it’s small and sparsely decorated so I’m really wondering what she thinks of it. Does she think I’m poor or just really bad at interior design? I have no idea, and a part of me doesn’t want to know, but I can’t help but be self-conscious of it, even though the apartment is just an in-between until the house over in Pembrooke is done.
I’m having my dream home—my grandparent’s old place and the home my father grew up in—updated some. I had initially moved in about a month ago, only to find a few electrical problems that couldn’t be ignored. I was already completely moved into the house when I found them, so instead of packing everything back up and going back to my mom’s, I got a small apartment to hold me over until the repairs are done. It’s all supposed to be a quick fix. As a result, the apartment is tiny—only one bedroom—and barely contains any furniture or decorations. Almost everything I have out is for Joey’s benefit anyway. I could have gone without anything in the place except for a bed and TV.
Shitshitshit. She’s in my apartment. I don’t know why this is freaking me out, but it is.
And then something major hits me. It’s bigger than Rae being in my apartment. Hell, it’s the reason she’s in my apartment.
We’re on a date. A date. An actual fucking date. Fuck. Me.
And I’ll be damned if that little revelation doesn’t make me more nervous than I already was.
What if she wants me to kiss her? I can’t kiss her! Can I? But she probably expects it because that’s what happens at the end of dates, especially at the end of second dates, right?
Way to go, asshole! Keep freaking yourself out. You’re doing great!
“You ready to quote the most amazing movie ever for the next hour and a half or what?” Rae asks, walking down the hall, effectively stopping my pacing.
Note to self: Feel free to put another point in the “Rae is a Fucking Godsend” column on my list that doesn’t really exist about how awesome she is.
Why are you still talking to yourself! T Swift that shit and shake it off, dude!
I follow my own advice. “The question is: Are you ready? I know this movie forward and back so I will judge you if you miss a line.”
“Bring it,” she says seriously.
And we spend the next ninety minutes sitting on the floor, chowing down pizza, and quoting the movie. Or at least that’s what I will tell anyone that asks because I so didn’t do that.
Did I eat some pizza? Sure. As much I normally would have? No. Did I quote the movie? You can’t watch Step Brothers and not quote it. Was it up to my usual standards? Nope, not even close.
The reason? The incredibly beautiful girl sitting next to me. Every single time she laughed, my heart skipped. Every single time her lips moved along with the words, my heart skipped. And every single time she tried to look over my way nonchalantly, my fucking heart skipped.
I am so completely screwed when it comes to this girl.
The room goes dark as the credits scroll.
“You suck,” Rae tells me.
What? “Excuse me?”
“Oh, you heard me. You. Suck. You didn’t even quote half the movie! I’m judging you, Hudson. Hard.” She’s eyeing me with what I’m sure she thinks is a fierce look. Spoiler alert: It’s not. She kind of looks like an old lady squinting at her bingo cards.
“Hey! I couldn’t concentrate because every time something even remotely funny happened, someone sitting next to me would snort like a damn pig. It was incredibly distracting.” She was distracting, but not for the reasons I’m letting her believe.
“Yeah, right. My snorting is dead sexy and you know it. Admit it: you’re incredibly turned on right now.”
“True.”
I swear to all things holy, the look that crosses her face is one that can never be replicated because she was not expecting that answer in a million years. It’s priceless.
She laughs and shakes her head. “Yeah, definitely not expecting that.”
I shrug. “Guess we’re even on that lack of filter thing.”
“For some reason, I highly doubt that.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Face, meet throw pillow. “Okay, I deserved that.”
“So much.” She goes quiet for a moment, staring down at the pillow now in her lap. Suddenly her head jerks up and she’s looking right at me. “Got any ice cream?”
I smile. “Of course. On the count of three, say your favorite flavor of ice cream.”
“One…”
“Two…,” I count. Something hits me. “Pause. No proposing this time if our favorites are the same, because I’m positive I would empty my bank account and fly us to Vegas in a heartbeat if you did.”
And I would. I honestly, truly believe I would. This girl has me wound so tightly and in such a short amount of time it’s ridiculous.
“Deal,” she agrees. “Three!”
“Cookies and cream!” we yell out simultaneously.
“HOLY SHIT!” she shouts, clamping her hand over her mouth.
“Don’t do it! Don’t you dare do it! I will kick you out of this apartment with no ice cream!” I threaten, only halfway meaning it.
Her hand is
still clamped over her mouth and she’s shaking her head back and forth like she can’t believe this is happening. I know I can barely believe it myself.
There’s no way we have this much in common! It’s too weird. And yet, it feels…right somehow.
I lean in closely and slowly peel her hand away from her face.
“Do. Not. Do. It,” I whisper soft and slow, looking her directly in the eyes. “I’m gonna take your hand and we’re gonna go get some ice cream now. You’re not going to propose and I’m not going to propose, because I have this sneaking suspicion neither one of us can exactly afford that Vegas vacay right now.”
I back away and hold my hand out. Rae looks up at me with big eyes and places her hand in mine. It’s so small compared to mine—so cute and feminine.
I could get used to holding this hand.
We get up and head into the tiny kitchen where Rae takes up post beside the fridge. I grab two bowls and some spoons, and I begin scooping out the ice cream.
“So, Hudson…,” Rae starts.
I look up and smirk at her. “So, Rae…,” I reply.
She tries mimicking my smirk back at me. She fails miserably but it’s still cute as hell. “Tell me about yourself.”
“Because that’s not completely cliché.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Tell me three things then: your favorite thing about yourself, what your favorite memory is from your childhood, and if you could meet anyone—living, dead, or fictional—who it would be. Go.”
I’m a little thrown by the questions. They weren’t exactly what I was expecting because if I had just told her about myself, I wouldn’t have even touched on any of this. Granted they aren’t extremely out there, but the answers to the questions have potential to be…revealing.
I finish scooping out the ice cream and we sit down at the small two-person kitchen table I have. Rae’s waiting patiently, taking small bites of her ice cream. I take one and let it melt in my mouth, thinking on how to answer things.
“The first answer is easy. I have a killer set of abs.”
And that, my friends, is how you make a woman blush!
“Oh, I don’t doubt that, ” she says with a little smile.
“Smart woman,” I tell her seriously. “To really answer your question, though, I’d have to say…my ability to…adjust…is my favorite thing about myself. I’ve been thrown some…curveballs, and I’ve adjusted to them really well, if I do say so myself.”
“There’s a story or two there,” she says, curiosity laced into her words.
“There is.” I nod and leave it at that.
She dips her head, signaling she gets that I’m not talking about it anymore, and takes another bite of her ice cream. When I don’t say anything for a minute, she looks back up at me. “Next,” she demands.
“Probably the summer before I turned seventeen. Things were simple then. We took a week-long vacation in Herring Cove.”
Rae’s eyes just about pop right out of her head. Herring Cove is a swank place. We’re talking thousands of dollars just for the townhome we stayed in. Crazy, yes, but so beautiful.
“That’s…that’s…,” she stammers.
I laugh. “I know. It was amazing. My parents saved up for a long time for that one week of pure bliss. We passed up Christmas, birthdays, and Mother’s and Father’s day that year just for that short vacation. It was worth every penny too.”
“Why is it your favorite memory though?”
“We were happy. Everyone was alive and smiling. It’s the last real good time I had with my family and Jess—my high school sweetheart—and I’m so thankful I got it.” And I mean that. Shit hit the fan big time about two months later.
She’s quiet for a minute and I really hope I didn’t just break some weird rule about mentioning an ex on a date.
“You said alive. Your dad?” she asks, a frown creasing her brows.
I put my spoon down and nod. “Heart attack. Two and a half years ago.”
She reaches over and places her delicate hand on top of mine. I meet her gaze. “I’m so sorry, Hudson,” she says sincerely.
“Thank you. It sucks that you’ll never to get to meet him.” I mentally cringe, hoping that didn’t come off as too weird. “You two would have gotten along famously. He’s not too good with the filter thing either.”
“If he was anything like you, I’m sure he was a cool dude,” she smiles. “Okay, time to answer question three now.”
“That one is hard. I really have no idea. Living, dead, or fictional, huh? I think I may have to go with Crowley from Supernatural just so I can high-five him for all his brilliant one-liners. Cheesy, I know.”
She’s just sitting there staring at me because I know I just came off as a huge dork.
“Okay, now you’re scaring me, Rae. Do you not know what Supernatural is?”
She scoffs. “How dare you insult my knowledge of amazing television! I’m just a little surprised you actually watch that. It’s one of my favorite shows. I watch it religiously.”
“We’re still not proposing, right?” I jokingly ask.
“Nope, sorry,” she says, scrunching her nose up. She pushes her empty bowl away from her and leans forward. She’s practically humming with excitement. “Okay, now you do me.”
I wait because I know what she just said is going to sink into that crazy head of hers eventually. Her eyes go wide and her pale face turns a bright shade of red. Ah, there it is.
“Yeah, so not what I meant. What I really meant was, ‘Please, Hudson, give me questions to answer. Do so quickly because I obviously have no control of what comes out of my mouth.’ So let’s just pretend that’s what came out, okay?”
I laugh. “Deal. So, do I have to come up with new questions? I kind of suck at this shit.”
Rae shakes her head no. “Nah. Okay, first answer.” She clears her throat. “Believe it or not, and as embarrassing as it can be at times, I actually like that I don’t have a filter half the time. I feel very…honest,” she confesses, shrugging. “Silly, I know, but it’s true.”
“No, I actually kind of get it. I mean I’m sure it has put you in weird situations or gotten you into trouble a time or two, but I get it.”
“Phew! Glad I’m not a total freak.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I tease.
She just laughs it off. I love that she just laughs it off.
“Moving on before you completely shatter my ego,” she says. “I would have to say my sixth birthday party. All my friends were there: my mom, cousin, aunt, uncle, everyone. My mom, Erin, painted me this beautiful ocean sunrise scene. She was so talented. It was flawless. So detailed it looked real—like you could step into the canvas. I used to stare it every night while I fell asleep and pretend I was out floating in the ocean. It was a comfort for many years. The only thing that comes close to giving me that feeling now is sitting out at Lake Quannapowitt at night.”
If it wasn’t obvious in the words she just spoke, how much she loved this painting was etched all over her face. She looks almost sad.
“Damn, Rae,” I say on a loud swallow. “I gotta ask, though. You said ‘was’ a lot. What happened?”
“Oh, the painting got…destroyed. I don’t have it anymore,” she says, obviously avoiding my real question.
Odd.
We sit in silence for a moment, letting our mutual avoidance of the past hang between us.
I clear my throat. “You said cousins? What are they like?”
“Cousin,” she corrects. “I just have one. And what do you mean? He’s a cousin. Well, more like a brother in my case, but I’m sure most cousins are the same.”
“I wouldn’t know. Neither of my parents have siblings. I don’t have cousins. Always wanted one, though. I’ve heard they cause trouble.”
She laughs. “Oh, do they ever.”
“So, third and final question. What’s your answer?”
Rae perks up significantly at this. “This one is easy. Colleen
Hoover.”
I raise my brows, confusion covering my face. “Who?”
Her face drops. “What.”
It’s doesn’t even come out as a question. It’s more of a threat. I’m not even close to scared. “You heard me, lady.”
“Ugh! She’s only the world’s most amazing Instagram video-maker ever! She’s hilarious! A genius! And don’t even get me started on her books. They. Are. Flawless. And Will Cooper? Be still my beating heart! That man is a God. Sorry, dude, but you’ve got some serious competition when it comes to him.”
No-Bullshit Hudson: Who the fuck is this “Will Cooper” guy and how in the hell do I kill him?
Logical Hudson: Wait...she said books. Dude, he’s fake. Down, boy.
“Oh, come on. The guy can’t be that great. He’s fake.”
“Do you write poetry, Hudson? Do you stand up on a stage and pour your heart out to strangers for a girl? Did you give everything up to take care of someone else when they couldn’t take care of themselves? Will Cooper did all that and more. That’s why he’s amazing.”
I do my best keep a straight face even though I’m internally freaking out because she just hit way too close to home and she has no idea. I don’t write poetry or perform on a stage, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t give up everything in my life for Joey. And it’s something I’d do again in a heartbeat.
“Then why do you not want to meet this Will Cooper character?” I ask because I’m honestly curious.
“Because the panties would come off if that were to happen,” she says with clear mischief in her eyes. “Honestly though, he’s the brainchild of Colleen so I feel like it’s her that I need to hug for him. Plus, she’s got a kick-ass Texas accent that I’m dying to hear in person.” She shrugs like it’s the only answer.
I laugh. “So, let me get this straight, you love her for her accent and Instagram videos?”
“And her words. She gives good word.”
Here's to Tomorrow Page 11
