This one I wrote for him. Specifically.
His reply to me had so much information about him and who he is, from lighthearted and funny, to serious and meaningful. I’ve reread it so many times, I’m surprised the pages haven’t torn.
The thing is, as much as I wrote this latest entry for him, I don’t actually have to give it to him. He never has to know that I continued writing in the notebook. That I replied. As far as he’s concerned, his entry is the last one.
But…
But this is the only contact I have with Hudson, and until his reply, I had no idea how much I was missing not having that.
Darcy, I have his art.
Xavier, he just moved into my life.
Derek, well, the connection with him is harder to define, but it still feels like he is watching over me. Protecting me. Turning up when I truly need him, even if I didn’t admit it at the time.
But Hudson? All we have is this notebook. While we are in this state of limbo, tied together by a contract but not actually together, this is the only communication we can have.
I looked up contract termination last night, to see what it would take. I found a couple of blog articles from kinky sites that explained what to do and even gave examples. It was interesting to see that it was possible to terminate sections of a contract and not just the entire thing.
After collecting all that information, I’m still not sure what I want to do. That little bubble of hope that I don’t have to give them up is starting to grow, especially after listening to Darcy last night.
Hearing about them was the worst and best idea ever. The way he described their history and how they all met has left my chestwith this massive ball of longing to know more. To get in a time machine and go back and watch them meeting each other.
I’m desperate to see Derek in guy-liner. The details from that brief glimpse at Obsession are hazy, but I know for sure that the guys weren’t dressed anything like the photos from the club’s forums. Yeah, they had unbuttoned shirts and a little bit of leather, but it was only a fraction compared to the photos.
Closing my eyes, I yank the hand brake on the very obvious procrastination thoughts.
Okay, I can do this. Just walk around the corner and knock on his office door. All this stressing out over whether to give him the notebook again could be for nothing; he might not even be in his office.
And if he is there, then good. I can give him the notebook, because that’s what I came here for. Right. Yes. Okay, so, one foot in front of the other.
For several heartbeats, my feet refuse to accept the signals from my brain, but then they get moving. As I round the corner, I smooth one hand down my pale pink baggy jeans, my palm bumping over the sweater I’ve tied around my waste.
My stomach launches itself up into my throat when Hudson’s open office door comes into view.
It’s fine. This was the plan. I can do this.
When I’m almost level with the door, I pause and take several deep breaths as I listen to see if anyone is in the office with him. Except for the general hum of people in the building, his office sounds relatively silent.
Last chance to turn around and get out of here.
But no, I’m not doing that. And to make sure, I step right into the doorway.
The deep groove of concentration between Hudson’s eyebrows disappears at my sudden entrance, and his mouth opens like he can’t believe I’m standing in his office.
Swallowing, I take another step in and give an awkward little wave. “Hey.”
Hudson immediately stands up from his chair and starts to come around his desk, his eyes roaming over my body, like he is checking for injuries or something. “Emery, what are you… is everything okay?”
Clutching the notebook way too tightly, I hold it up between us, hoping that he can’t tell that I’m trembling the smallest amount. “Everything is fine, good, even. I just wanted to, um, give this back to you.”
Hesitantly, I hold out the notebook between us and try to get a smile on my lips, but those damn bees have my entire being vibrating in a not-so-pleasant way.
Hudson’s gaze drops to my hand, then snaps back up to my eyes as he reaches out to take it from me. “Did you read it?”
I nod as his fingers brush mine before quickly lowering my hand. “Yeah, and I replied.”
His eyes widen, and his grip tightens around the notebook. “Replied?”
