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Chapter Eighteen
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“Wait, so you’re tellingme you two,” Emma does some weird sexual hand gesture before continuing, “right there.” She points toward the window that less than forty-eight hours ago Hudson had me pressed against.
“And other places.” I try to contain my smile but it’s a useless attempt. I haven’t been able to keep it a bay since Hudson showed up at my sister’s wedding Saturday.
“I’m so proud.” Emma fans her face like she’s drying tears that aren’t there.
“Only you.” I laugh.
“I’m still super bummed I missed him at the wedding.” She pouts out her bottom lip dramatically.
“Well maybe you shouldn’t have bolted for the door the second the formalities were out of the way.”
“Whatever. I wasn’t feeling that well.” She huffs, leaning back against the edge of the island.
My eyes go to where she’s leaning and a quick smile darts across my lips.
“Oh my god! Here too.” She jumps away from the counter.
“What?” I ask innocently from my place on the floor. I’m sorting through a few décor pieces that were delivered today.
“Please tell me you cleaned up after yourself.” She swipes her finger across the counter and holds it up in front of her face like she’s inspecting for dust.
“What are you doing?” I can’t help but laugh at my crazy friend.
“Making sure there’s no man business on the countertop.”
“And if there were and you got it on your hand?” I gasp out through laughter.
“I think I’d be okay with that.” She shrugs, wiping her hand on the side of her shorts.
“God, I love you.”
Emma smiles wide. “I know.”
Our conversation is interrupted by one of the electricians who’s working on wiring a chandelier in the master bathroom.
He’s worried about the size of the fixture and wants to make sure we think it fits the space before finishing the install.
Emma excuses herself to help him, leaving me alone to sort through the chaos in front of me. When I ordered pieces I had room ideas in mind but things change when you have everything in front of you. It’s up to me to figure out what should go where, which will be much easier once the furniture arrives next week.
My mind wonders back to Hudson, as it does most times when I’m left to my own devices. I think of his smile, his laugh, the way his voice sounds muffled against my skin. Never in a million years did I dream I’d find myself falling so hard and fast for a man. I wish I could say it was in my control, that I have a handle on the way I feel about him, but the truth is I don’t. Not even a little.
I also wish I could say I’m not completely terrified by the whole thing, but I am. Getting involved with a man like Hudson is a risk. There’s going to be people out there challenging my claim to him. It’s the way of the world and when you’re as good looking as Hudson, it’s to be expected. But add on the fact that he’s touring and surrounded by thousands of fans several nights a week. It adds a whole other level of insecurity that most relationships don’t have to deal with.
I love that Hudson is a musician. I love that the man I met five years ago stayed true to his passion and has found success in doing what he loves. I just wish it didn’t make our relationship so much more difficult.
When I sit down and think about it, our timing really is shit. I’m in the middle of two major remodeling projects and he’s on the road for his very first tour. We’re both extremely busy, not to mention that this is all so new and exciting to him. I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time before I bleed into the background.
“Len, did you hear me?”
“Huh?” I look up to find Emma standing over me.
“Dad called. I have to run over to Mitchell’s and work out some issue with the tile for the second bathroom. The warehouse sent the wrong pattern and he wants me to see if it will still work because we can’t really afford to wait the two week window for them to send the right tile.”
“Again?” I question, this being an issue we deal with too often.
