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Back inside, I walked up the stairs and knocked on Eugene’s door. “I’m going to put the kerosene heater up and check the water lines for leaks. You can use the hot water first. We can leave in about an hour if that works for you.”
“You really don’t have to take me,” she said again.
“I am, so get your ass ready.” It wasn’t until the words were out that I realized how stern I sounded. A part of me wanted to repeat the words in a softer tone, but then I remembered the comments, and the anger I’d been suppressing pushed through. I took a deep breath as I walked down the stairs because I wasn’t just upset. I was furiousforher.And I wasn’t sure what to do about it. In a few days, she’d be out of my life. Instead of feeling relieved, the tension mounted. Her in my cabin, with me, just sounded so much better all around.
“I knew she was trouble as soon as I looked at her,” I muttered to myself as I stalked outside and checked the cabin’s crawlspace.
The words that should have left my mouth were,I knew I was in trouble as soon as she smiled at me.
My breath was visible as I huffed. I barely paid attention to what I should be doing. Instead, I wondered how she’d fix her hair before coming downstairs. It would be in one of those messy buns, revealing her slender neck. If she’d be wearing another pair of leggings, they might rip. I hoped not. I could barely focus, as it was when she was near. If a pair tore again, I didn’t think I’d be so good at looking away. The idea of someone else seeing her ass had me gritting my teeth. My thoughts were very telling. More than not minding Eugene, it was starting to seem a whole lot like something else. I wasn’t ready to acknowledge that because Eugene wasn’t my type. Right?
Eugene was far too lovely to be in such a terrible situation. But saying she was awkward, a mess, and clumsy— those words suited her. Those words also described the perfect example of what I seemed to like.
Shit.
SEVENTEEN
EUGENE
Hudson’s stature made me nervous. Actually, it was more about the way he scowled at everything that twisted my insides. Generally, he made me anxious as he drove.
Hudson had been nothing but kind to me. Even so, he had a certain aura about him that sometimes screamedfuck off. I was getting the same vibes he gave me when I first arrived at his place.
Somehow, I pissed him off. No matter how many times I tried to talk him out of it, he insisted on taking me to get my things from the apartment. It was silly of him to get upset with me when he made the decision.
He was quiet as he drove. The only thing he asked was if I needed to rent a U-Haul. His truck was big enough for my things, so I told him no. My brother said I could drop off my belongings at his place, since he had a spare room.
Everything was almost covered.
I found a job. All I needed was a permanent place to live. My brother would never rush me, but I didn’t want to intrude any longer than a month or two. Michael the Ass should be returning to his apartment soon, and I could leave Hudson alone.
Honestly, the thought was the best one I’d had in a while. Get out of the poor man’s life and build my own stability. Who knew? When I saw Hudson again, maybe I’d be in a better situation and wouldn’t need to feel embarrassed. I liked that idea a lot.
“I’ll be out of your hair in a few days,” I said to fill the silence.
He turned his head quickly. “What?”
“I’ll be going to my brother’s soon.” I placed my hands in my lap. “The week is almost up.”
He seemed even more rigid as he focused on the road. “Right.”
I didn’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. My shoulders drooped. Something I said clearly upset him. The night before, he’d been kind and talkative. Then morning came, and I got the grunting, scowling Hudson.
He side-eyed me, forehead crinkling, and then focused on the road again. I tried not to take it personally. “Thanks for letting me stay with you—in your home, I mean.” I looked ahead and stopped speaking. The more nervous I got, the more I screwed up and got tongue tied. I didn’t like screwing up my words. I loved words. And speaking happily and confidently.
“We should have waited to leave after your hair dried.” His hand tightened on the steering wheel.
I touched my wet strands. He had insisted on waiting after he saw I had washed my hair, but I refused. He would be driving for over eight hours there and back. I wasn’t going to take any longer. My ears ached in the cold, though. I didn’t tell him that. We’d only been out in the freezing temperatures for a minute, and he had heated his truck before I got in.
“I said it’s fine.” I took the clip out of my hair, so it could dry quicker. “You fuss a lot. Does my wet hair bother you that much?”
He didn’t respond. He just shook his head, mumbled something too low for me to hear as he turned up the heat, and pointed the vents at me.
???
The silent tension between us made the drive worse. He didn’t need me for directions since he’d typed the address into his GPS.
Once my hair dried, I twisted back the frizzy mess and clipped it into a bun.
