But, no. Hudson would never do that—wouldn’t pull her into his lap, kiss her like she was the last woman on the face of the earth, and make her come so hard she saw stars. Not if he was spoken for.
So what the hell was so bad he was worried about telling her? Her, of all people? She’d been his best friend for almost two decades. There wasn’t a whole lot he could say that would change that.
“Does your momma know?” she asked.
He picked up one of her hands from her lap and cradled it between both of his, staring intently at them. “Yeah. She…she accidentally opened up a welcome letter.”
“A welcome letter? For what?”
When he lifted his eyes to hers, her stomach bottomed out, something deep inside her recognizing the uncertainty swimming in his gaze. Whatever this welcome letter was for, this was the big thing he had to tell her. It wasn’t about his feelings— never had been. And if they hadn’t just done what they’d done, she’d feel like the dumbest girl in the world for thinking something was happening when it wasn’t.
Except that wasn’t true, was it? He’d been with her the whole way. He’d initiated the kiss. He’d encouraged her with his words and his actions every second they’d been together. She just had to remember that.
When he didn’t answer, she prodded again. “Hudson. What was the welcome letter for?”
He cocooned her hand between his, pressing them tightly together. “The army.”
“The—” Mac jerked back, yanking her hand from his grasp. She tried to calm the racing of her heart, but she might as well have been trying to stop a runaway train. Especially when Hudson kept staring at her, apology written in his eyes. Apology for what?
But she already knew. Deep down in her heart, she knew.
“Why would you be receivin’ a welcome letter from the army?”
“I tried, Kenna. I tried goin’ to State to do what my momma wanted me to. Begged me to. But it didn’t feel like me. It never did. You knew my hesitation about it from the beginning.”
She had known. They’d discussed everything in great detail almost two years ago when he’d needed to decide what he was going to do after high school. He’d been torn between going to college or following in his daddy’s footsteps and enlisting, yes. But in the end, he’d decided to do what he thought was best for his momma and sister. He’d taken the path that wasn’t what he’d necessarily wanted but was one she’d thought had still made him happy.
Apparently, she’d been wrong.
He reached for her hand again, and she allowed him to take it, mostly because she was too shocked to do anything else. “I know this isn’t what we planned—it isn’t what any of us planned—but I just… I couldn’t pretend anymore. Every day I was gone not doing what I knew I should be felt like another day I was letting my dad down.”
“Hudson, you know that’s not true. He’d be proud of you just as you are.”
He nodded, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “Logically, I know that. But in my heart?” He pressed her hand to his chest, the rapid thump beneath her palm making her ache. “I can’t stop feeling like I’m not living up to everything he told me I could be.”
“Why didn’t you talk to me about this?” Even though they’d had these plans in place to go to State and graduate…each go on to do mildly boring but practical jobs, she’d known deep down that Hudson wouldn’t have been satisfied with that. Not the guy who lived for adventure. Not the one who idolized his father, who put everything he had into keeping his loved ones safe.
And what better way to do that than to honor his dad’s legacy and fight for their country?
“I didn’t know how.”
The words cut her. Because the only thing she hadn’t been able to talk to Hudson about had been her feelings for him. Everything else? Every ounce of pain or uncertainty or happiness or sorrow in her life, she’d been able to share with him. She hated that he hadn’t felt the same.
“What—” She shook her head, trying to focus on the thoughts and questions bombarding her. But the single one that kept coming up over and over again was the same one that felt like a lead weight in her stomach. Like an arrow straight to her heart. “When?”
As soon as the single syllable left her lips, tears stung her eyes. Her throat tightened as if some part of her already had everything figured out, while the rest of her was still sitting in the unknown with some shadow of hope hanging on. Maybe they’d have a while before he left. No matter how long or short it was, she’d take whatever time she could get with him. She’d take it and cling to it with everything she had. She’d make the most of—
“Next week.”
Mac’s breath left her in a whoosh, a wrecking ball smashing into her torso and stealing all the air in her lungs. She left for State on Monday. And he wasn’t going with her.
They didn’t have months. They didn’t even have weeks. They had days. Hours.
And then he’d be gone.
“Take me back,” Mac said through clenched teeth. Tears pricked the back of her eyes, her throat tight from withholding them. Not from sadness—although that was swirling somewhere in the vortex of her emotions—but from anger. She was so damn mad at him, she couldn’t see straight.
“Kenna, I know this—”
“Take me back right now, Hudson Miller, or I swear to God, I’ll jump overboard and swim back.”
He reached for her, but she jerked away, avoiding his touch. She couldn’t handle it. Not now.
“Tell me what you’re thinkin’,” he said. “Please. It’s killin’ me.”
Oh, it was killing him, was it? He wasn’t aware of her thoughts for a grand total of 180 seconds, and it was killing him? Meanwhile, she’d been kept in the dark for months?
“Too damn bad,” she snapped. “Apparently we don’t tell each other everything we’re thinkin’, so you’re just gonna have to wait. Now, start the motor.”
He opened his mouth, no doubt to reply, but instead, he gave her a once-over. Yeah, she could imagine what she looked like. Cheeks bright red, though no longer from arousal, arms crossed over her chest to cover up the parts of her that still perked up at his presence, and a red-hot glare directed solely at him.
With a dip of his chin, he started the engine and directed them back toward the cabin. The hum of the motor drowned out any talking they could do, but that was just fine for her. She didn’t have a whole hell of a lot to say to his lying ass. And, yes, he was a liar—there was no damn way he was getting off on a technicality. True, he’d never specifically told her he wasn’t enlisting in the army, but she’d never asked. Why would she? They’d made plans—plans she’d been counting on and looking forward to for two years. And those plans most certainly hadn’t included him putting his life on the line. They hadn’t included him leaving her.
The urge to get away from him crept up her spine and latched on to her throat, tightening in a vise. She was about to lose it, the tears collecting in her eyes threatening to spill over at any second, and she’d be damned if she did it in front of him.
Hudson slowed the motor as he guided them toward land. As soon as they were close enough to the dock that Mac figured she could make it with a hard enough jump, she stood up inside the boat and leaped.
“Kenna! What the f—”
She ignored him and didn’t look back. Instead, she sprinted up the hill toward the cabin, bypassing the hammock and yard games set up, and stormed inside. She swiped at the tears running down her cheeks, hating that she cried whenever she was angry.
Except, she wasn’t just angry. She was devastated.
That thought tore a sob from her throat, and she glanced down toward the lake. Hudson tied up the boat with impressive speed, his gaze cutting up toward the cabin every few seconds, his jaw tight. She didn’t have much time before he’d be in the house and in her space, demanding she talk to him. And if she talked to him at that moment, she knew without a doubt she’d say things she’d regret.
She needed to get th
e hell out of there.
Without pausing for second thoughts, she snatched his keys off the counter, grabbed her bag, and flew out the door. She tossed her bag into the passenger’s seat and slammed the door on his truck, revving the engine before shifting into drive and peeling out.
Through tear-filled eyes, she watched in the rearview mirror as Hudson ran toward her.
“Kenna, wait!” he yelled, his voice filtering in through the open windows, and that just made her cry harder. Made her push her foot firmer on the gas pedal.
She had no idea where she was going. She just knew she had to get as far away from Hudson Miller as she could.
MAC’S TEARS hadn’t abated by the time she pulled off to the side of a back road twenty minutes later. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried this hard—hell, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried, period. But when your lifelong best friend smashed all your plans and broke your heart in one fell swoop, all bets were off.
She threw the truck into park and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. Her heart ached. Actually physically ached. She’d had everything she’d ever wanted within her reach, and—just like that—it was snatched away.
That thought made the anger inside her boil once again, and she bolted upright and snatched her bag from the passenger’s seat. She riffled through the contents in search of her phone. When she found it, she held it up, glancing at the bars in the top corner. Two. She only hoped it was enough to get through. She needed to vent, needed to yell at someone. Needed to have someone tell her why.
The phone rang three times before her sister picked up. “Hello?”
“Will…”
“Mac? Hey. Wait, what’s wrong? Why do you sound all—”
“He’s leavin’,” she croaked, her throat raspy from crying.
“What? Who’s leavin’?”
Mac swallowed, her eyes burning. “Hudson.”
“Wait…I’m confused. He left you at the cabin? That doesn’t sound like him. I’m sure he’ll—”
“No!” she yelled. “He’s leavin’, Will. Me. Havenbrook. State. All of it.”
“Leavin’?” Will asked, her voice ringing with confusion. “To do what?”
Mac wished she’d driven the two hours to Starkville so she could have this conversation in person. She needed to be in Will’s grounding presence. Rest her head on her sister’s shoulder as Will assured her everything would be all right. Because right now, Mac couldn’t see how.
The words sat bitter on Mac’s tongue—words she never thought she’d utter. She cleared her throat, ignoring the tears pooling again in her eyes. “He’s enlisting.”
Willow’s sharp inhale carried through the phone as clearly as if she were sitting next to Mac. She knew as well as everyone else in town exactly why Hudson hadn’t enlisted in the first place. Mac wasn’t sure there was a soul old enough in Havenbrook who didn’t remember the day the Millers had been notified of Jack’s death. It’d changed so much for their family. Had changed nearly everything.
Although it’d never been able to change who Hudson truly was.
“And he didn’t tell you?” Will asked. Her voice was calm and clear, no outrage to be found. No shock, no indignation. Just gentleness.
“Why aren’t you surprised by this?”
Will was silent for a couple moments. Finally, she said, “I think the better question is, why are you?”
Mac’s spine straightened, her shoulders going rigid. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Why wouldn’t I be surprised? We had plans, Will. He was supposed to come with me. And today—” She cut herself off, something in her not wanting to tell her sister exactly what had gone down in the boat. Not yet. She had no idea how to reconcile the pure elation she’d felt at finally having Hudson with the devastation that sat heavily in the pit of her stomach.
Will gave a bitter laugh. “Believe me, I know all about broken plans.”
Mac squeezed her eyes shut, wincing at the harsh tone of her sister’s voice. Of course, she’d know exactly what Mac was feeling. Will had gone through it not long ago. Except, at least, Hudson had given Mac the courtesy of a goodbye—something she couldn’t say for Will’s no-good, bailing ex-boyfriend.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
“What I mean,” Will interrupted, “is that you know Hudson better than anyone else.” She paused. “Is this really out of the realm of something he’d do?”
A flip-book of memories opened in Mac’s mind, a collection of the times they’d spent together in the years they’d been friends. They’d both been adventurous, even from a young age. It’d been what had linked them together in the first place. Hiking, climbing trees, cliff diving. They’d done everything that was legal—and a few things that weren’t—just to see if they could. Because something called to both of them, that thrill they got each time—when they’d climbed to the top of the tallest tree, those moments of free fall off a cliff, or flying through fields on a four-wheeler.
But it was so much more than just his adventurous side. He’d carried the weight of the world on his shoulders for as long as she’d known him, needing to make sure his loved ones were safe and happy. Taking the Man of the House moniker to whole new levels. He held himself up to ridiculous standards, especially the one perched atop as the most important—to be the hero his daddy had been.
Of course he was enlisting. Of course he was going off to fight for his country. It was all he’d known, all he’d dreamed of. It was in his blood. His daddy losing his life had never been a deterrent for Hudson—he’d always seen it as part of the sacrifice.
And if there was one thing she knew about him, it was that he’d sacrifice everything if it meant those he loved would have better lives because of it. He was born to do exactly this, and she’d been a fool to think he’d have been satisfied doing anything else.
“I don’t want to let him go,” Mac whispered, tears spilling over onto her cheeks. “I don’t know how.”
But she needed to figure it out, and fast. Because she didn’t have a choice.
Hudson lost track of how many times he’d paced the length of the cabin, wearing a faded path in the already worn wood floor. Kenna’s face had been a mask of anger when she’d fled from the boat—and him—as fast as humanly possible. Anger, he could handle. Anger, he expected. But when she’d glanced his way from the driver’s seat of his truck? The devastation written on her flushed, tear-stained face had wrecked him.
He could count on one hand the number of times he’d ever seen her cry and still have fingers left over. So for his actions to bring her to tears? He’d really and truly fucked up.
Grabbing his phone, he attempted her number again. “Come on, Kenna. Pick up.” But just like the other fifteen times he’d tried her, it rang and rang until it clicked over to voice mail. She didn’t even have to talk to him if she didn’t want. He just needed to know she was okay. That she hadn’t ended up in a ditch somewhere. God, if anything happened to her because of him—
An engine rumbled in the distance, and he ate up the space to the front window in two long strides, breathing a sigh of relief when his beat-up truck came into view, bouncing down the gravel path toward the cabin.
For long moments after the vehicle came to a stop, Kenna sat behind the wheel. The sun cast a glare off the windshield, so he couldn’t see her face entirely, but he felt her eyes on him. He couldn’t tell if she was still crying. He couldn’t even make out the expression on her face. But he stood frozen in place, hoping and praying with everything in him that she was okay. That she’d forgive him for what he felt in his heart he had to do.
He didn’t move, barely even breathed, as she opened the door and jumped down from the cab of the truck. She took slow, measured steps toward the porch and up the front stairs, then through the screen door until she stood in front of him.
He darted his eyes to every square inch of her, making sure she was okay. But he knew, deep down, the pain she was feeling wasn’t a
nything he’d be able to see from the outside, despite how much skin showed.
“Sorry about stealin’ your truck.” Her eyes were red-rimmed but clear, no moisture clinging to her lashes. “I just… I needed some time. To get this all settled in my head.”
He took a step toward her, aching to reach out and touch her. To pull her into his arms and just…be. “And did you? Get it settled?”
She lifted a shoulder. “As much as I can.”
He swallowed, needing to know more just as much as he was dreading what she had to say. What if he’d fucked up everything? What if his choice had ruined the best friendship he’d ever had? Probably would ever have? What if he lost her simply because he couldn’t be satisfied with the life he already had?
Steeling himself, he asked, “And what’s the final verdict?”
She stared up at him for long moments, those once-clear eyes filling with a sheen of tears that kicked him right in his chest. “I’m gonna miss you.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and his heart cracked right along with it. “But this is what you were meant to do, and I was selfish for thinkin’ you’d be happy doing anything else.”
He shook his head. “You weren’t—”
She reached up and covered his mouth with her fingers, silencing him. “I was. I was, because I wanted you with me, no matter what. I didn’t think about what you’d want…what you’d need. What you were meant to do.”
He reached for her, one hand going to her waist, the other wrapping around the back of her neck. Tugging her to him. Pulling her closer until they were thigh-to-thigh, chest-to-chest. He brushed his thumb up and down over her neck, reveling in the softness of her skin. Relishing the fact that she was letting him do this, while kicking himself for waiting so long to touch her like this…wondering how much time he’d wasted.
Pact with a Heartbreaker: A Best Friends to Lovers Summer Romance (Havenbrook Book 3) Page 6
