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“Except it does,” Hudson murmured quietly.
Peyton smiled a little sadly. “I haven’t actually been brave enough to try yet. I don’t know how to make my body work the way it used to. And I’m on this app, right, that my best friend and brother signed me up for? They want me to get back out there, and they don’t fucking realize that there’s not some switch I can hit in my brain that’ll make it all feel okay again.” He stopped, realizing that he was breathing a little fast, and that Hudson was watching him with dark eyes. “Sorry.”
“No. No, I…yeah. It’s like that,” Hudson said.
Peyton bit his lip and wrapped his arms tight around his middle. “I’m sort of talking to this guy—I’m gay by the way. I feel like I don’t need to explain myself considering you live here, but just in case…”
Hudson lifted up one hand. “I’ve been out since I was nineteen.”
Peyton breathed out a sigh of relief, then tension raced up his spine because that was one more barrier removed. It didn’t change the fact that Hudson was hotter than the sun, with that sort of salt and pepper bear vibe going on—and probably way out of his league—but still.
He didn’t do well with little scraps of hope. They tended to start wildfires of fantasy in his mind.
“Anyway, I’m talking to this guy, and he seems nice. He says all the right things, but then I start to wonder if he’s just full of shit. Like, what happens when I have to take my pants off and he sees this literal shit bag hanging off my stomach. Or he reaches around to find that they stitched up my asshole like a goddamn Ken doll?”
Hudson stared, then after a beat, he threw back his head and burst into laughter. Peyton thought maybe he should be offended, but it was impossible at the sound of the man’s chuckles. They were low and infectious, and after a couple of seconds, Peyton was joining him.
“I’m sorry,” Hudson said, waving him off. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t laughed in a long fucking time, and I didn’t expect you to just say all that out loud.”
Peyton offered a crooked smile. “Yeah. I guess I kind of do that.”
Hudson’s laughter died down, and his face went back to serious, though there was more light in his eyes now. “You’re not that old, are you?”
Peyton shrugged. “Old enough that I can’t deal with guys in their early twenties, but I haven’t hit the magic age where I pull a muscle in my sleep.”
Hudson snorted and shook his head. “Right. Then you’ve got time. Hell, even us old gays have time. My friend keeps telling me that at some point, someone will come along who doesn’t give a shit that I need things done a little differently.”
“And do you believe him?” Peyton challenged.
Hudson’s lip quirked. “No. But I’ve always been a pessimistic asshole. I have a feeling you have a little bit more hope than me.”
“I did. I…I think I still do,” Peyton admitted. “I’d like to.”
Hudson nodded, then reached behind him for his chair and pulled the bento box down. He stared at it for another minute, then handed it out. “You should try and find it. After all, one of us needs to, right?”
Peyton turned the box over in his hands. “What’s your favorite cookie, Hudson?”
The man groaned. “Please don’t get ideas.”
Peyton grinned and shook his head. “Now I know you don’t mean that, so just answer the question and save us the trouble of playing this little will-he-won’t-he eat the bakes game. Come on, just tell me one flavor you can’t get enough of.”
Hudson groaned, then finally let out a slow sigh. “Peanut butter—with bits in it.”
Peyton grinned widely and held the box tight to his chest, making no move to get up, and Hudson didn’t seem like he was going to tell him to go any time soon. “I’m gonna knock your socks off,” he said after a beat.
Hudson let out one more, very soft chuckle. “I wouldn’t bet against you.”
Peyton’s heart gave a single stuttered beat, and he knew in that moment, he was in big trouble.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“I know that face.”
Hudson didn’t look up from his phone, but only because he didn’t want to appear guilty. His instinct had been to quickly turn off the screen and throw the fucking thing across the room because the last thing in the world he needed was to get caught staring at Peyton’s bakery page.
Not that Rain would have known what he was up to, but Rain was also a nosy little shit and would have been able to tell that Hudson was acting suspicious.
“This is my regular face,” Hudson said, slowly setting his phone down and affecting a look of pure and utter boredom. He set his elbow on the desk, propping his chin up as he looked over at the smaller man. “Is there something you need?”
