Page 26 of The Ex Project (The Heartwood #3)
“This is so like you. You haven’t learned. You still haven’t grown up. Still don’t consider how your actions are impacting someone else.” Once again, I’ve been fooled by his charming, cool demeanour, and it makes me see red.
“I told you. You don’t have to worry about Emma.” His tone has shifted into something less defensive. Now it almost sounds … hurt. A sharp pain radiates in my sternum watching my words hit him somewhere deep. Somewhere we’ve both been before, that I’ve attacked before.
“What does that even mean?” I snarl. A few other people in the gym cast glances in our direction, so I lower my voice to a hiss. “I don’t have to worry about Emma? What about her? Should she be worried?”
Hudson stands now, putting his hands up in the air in a display of innocence, or like someone who is about to say Don’t shoot .
“No. Emma ended it with me. We’re just friends.”
Oh.
Oh.
I school my facial features, trying to maintain a neutral expression even while my face heats with shame. I may have jumped to conclusions, made an unfair assumption. Still, I don’t want to let this new information ruffle me. Or at least, I don’t want to let him see that it does.
Emma dumped him. I turn it over in my mind, inspecting it from every angle. What it could mean. When? And why? And then the other question that brings up a new wave of nausea. Does Hudson still want to be with her?
It wasn’t his choice. He broke up with me like it was easy. But Emma … that wasn’t his doing.
Whatever this is, whatever last night was, it was a mistake. As Poppy said, I let myself fall into old patterns. And it’s a pattern I’ve lived before, I know how it ends. With me hurt, feeling like I’m not good enough. Being left in the dust.
“Well, regardless, the bet is off. We’re not going on a date.” This was exactly what I was hoping to avoid coming back to Heartwood. We’re still opponents, still on rival teams. We still have to get through the vote, and now I’m going full steam ahead. I turn on my heel and head towards the door.
A strong, rough hand grips my wrist as I leave, and tugs, whirling me around.
My breath catches in my throat as I come face to face with Hudson, his blue eyes watery, almost sad.
Pleading. I can’t help but let my gaze drop to his lips, the lips I practically begged to kiss last night so I could feel them again.
He has a hint of stubble on his jaw, having not been home for over twenty-four hours.
In an instant, his stubble is grazing my cheek, and his lips meet mine, firm and passionate.
He takes an inhale of breath as his mouth presses against mine, sucking the air straight from my lungs.
The room around us spins as his tongue finds my lips and parts them.
It slips across my bottom lip, and then it’s gone, and he pulls away.
Two seconds of pleasure that makes my legs feel weak.
I graze my fingertips over my mouth, as if making sure I wasn’t imagining it.
That it was real. That Hudson kissed me.
“I’m sorry,” he starts, his voice trailing off as he runs his hand through his hair. “That’s not how I wanted to …”
“Don’t,” I say. I want to say more. Don’t be sorry, don’t take it back, don’t feel bad. Because the feeling of Hudson’s lips on mine … I can’t believe I went ten whole years without it. Hudson looks back up at me now, sincerity lining his face .
“The only reason Emma ended things with me, and not the other way around, is because she got to it first. It wasn’t going to work with her and I.
Emma is great, but I knew she would always be my second choice.
” Hudson either hasn’t noticed the crowd staring at us now, or he doesn’t care, because his piercing blue eyes are glued to me.
The way he’s said those words, second choice , makes it sound as if I would be his first.
Before I can ask him to clarify, he glances around the gym, and then lowers his gaze back to me, eyes flicking between mine and my mouth.
“This isn’t how I want to have this conversation.
There are things I want to tell you. Things I need to tell you.
But not here. Let me take you out and I’ll explain. ”
This is all too much. I came here to get answers, but instead, I’m leaving with more questions. Questions I doubt I’ll be able to process today with the one brain cell I have that isn’t pickled in tequila.
I exhale a slow breath through pursed lips and consider my options. Hudson and Emma are over. She’s not hurt. There’s no harm in going out with him. And letting him take me on this date might allow me to figure out this mess of feelings I’m having with a clear head.
“Okay.” I give in. “When is this date happening?” Hudson looks back up at me, and where his eyes were once filled with agony, now they sparkle with something else … hope.
“Are you free tomorrow?”
I nod quickly before I can take any of this back.
“Great. Tomorrow, then.” A hint of a smile plays on his lips as he backs away from me. “I’ll send you the details later.”
I leave the gym and head home, a flurry of emotions whirling around, making me feel anxious and giddy all at the same time.
But I’m also exhausted. All I want to do is curl up on the couch with some takeout and rot in front of the TV for the rest of the afternoon. I’ve done enough thinking for one day.
When I get home, I close the front door behind me and lean against it, the cool air inside a reprieve from the summer sun now at its peak. I heave a sigh. There’s still one thought I haven’t been able to get rid of since my memories from last night came crashing down in one swift, destructive wave.
The words Hudson muttered right before I drifted off to sleep last night.
Every ounce of love I’ve been saving for you.
They’ve been replaying on a loop, like a record skipping and repeating the same thing over and over again.
I’ve been trying to make sense of it all.
Hudson and I are enemies, rivals, adversaries.
We both want the same thing and only one of us can have it.
But the way he kissed me … it felt like none of that has ever mattered to him.
I need some ibuprofen.
Crawling upstairs, I get changed back into my PJs, and because I’m too tired to cook, I order some takeout Chinese food for delivery.
Then, I park myself on the couch to wait for it.
I spend the rest of the afternoon there, watching reruns of my favourite sitcom reruns.
They’re mindless, because I’ve seen them all a million times and for a few hours, I can focus on someone else’s drama other than my own .
It’s peaceful.
Until my phone dings, the sound muffled by the cushions. I dig around for it and pull it out of the crack in the couch, and as promised, there’s an e-mail from Hudson.
Subject: How To Prepare for Your Date with Hudson Landry
I ignore the sharp twinge behind my ribs at the fact that he’s reverted to e-mailing again.
But as soon as I open it, I understand why. There’s a link that takes me to a website where he’s put together an interactive checklist.
What to Bring on Your Date:
Comfortable shoes (all terrain)
Bug repellent
A water bottle
Sunscreen
A bathing suit
A toothbrush
Be ready by ten o’clock sharp.
What kind of date is this? I scan the list again and check the e-mail one more time to make sure I’m not missing something.
Is it an overnight thing? Whatever it is, I didn’t agree to it.
I thought we’d have a nice dinner somewhere; maybe he would take me into the city to a restaurant that’s more my speed.
Clearly not, if I’m meant to wear comfortable shoes .
I don’t even think I own all-terrain shoes, except my gym runners. But those are for indoor use only.
I haul myself off the couch and back upstairs.
I guess I’m going for another shopping trip in my mother’s closet.
After a little rummaging, I manage to find a pair of Blundstones that look like she’s probably going to return them.
They’re still in the box, brand new, and we happen to be the same size.
I can pay her for them later, but it saves me the trouble of trying to find comfortable footwear myself.
Score.
Alright, Landry. I’m ready for you.
This time, as I gear up for whatever game he’s playing, there’s an honest-to-God smile on my face. A real, genuine, I’m-excited-to-spend-the-day-with-Hudson kind of smile.