Page 128 of All the Ugly Things
And I had Hudson, a man I was falling in love with. A man who was slowly chipping away the cement blocks I stacked around my heart seven years ago to protect myself. He went at them slowly, carefully, chipped away at mortar and grout to carefully remove each block. He hadn’t just pummeled his way in, he worked at it. I loved him for his compassion and care maybe most of all.
“I’ll be good. Great even, maybe.”
Angie laughed through the phone. “You’ll be fine. But call if you need anything.”
“I will. Thanks again.”
“Any time. That’s what friends are for.”
She hung up and I pulled the phone away from my ear, smiling at the black screen.That’s what friends are for.
Yeah. I had a lot. And maybe I could have more. I finally had the chance and freedoms to go after what I wanted. Hadn’t I had enough taken from me?
“So go get him and tell him,” I muttered to the blank television screen directly across from me.
He had to be home by now. It was ten o’clock and he rarely stayed at David’s too late. I doubted it being the night before Thanksgiving would change that.
Was I brave enough to reach for what I wanted? To make the first move?
* * *
It tookme another thirty minutes of debating before I went to my bedroom and undressed out of the lounge clothes I’d put on earlier. Instead, I pulled on the same pajama pants I’d worn up to Hudson’s last week, another simple T-shirt and a long, black cardigan sweater. I could have taken a few more minutes to spruce things up, maybe swipe on a little makeup or brush my hair, but I wanted him.
And if sleep was all he could still give me, I’d take it.
I was tired of being alone. Of waiting for Hudson to decide the pace we went.
Perhaps he just needed a little push in the right direction.
There was a heaviness deep in my stomach that spread to parts of my body I never knew could feel soneedyfor something more than sleep.
Once I was in the elevator and the button to his floor was pressed, I tugged on my robe, tightening and untying and retying it at my waist. My reflection in the mirrored doors was a blurred mess of wild hair and glassy eyes and flushed cheeks.
Like I’d run three miles. I was panting almost as heavily.
Before I could lose my nerve, I knocked on his door, fingers playing with my key in my robe pocket, fumbling at the knot of my waist.
He answered the door, hair as equally disheveled as mine, dressed only in pajama pants and no shirt.
“What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
“No.” I shook my head. My heart rate thumped a frantic rhythm. As I said it, Hudson’s eyes shot wide open and he opened his mouth to speak but before he could, I cut him off in a rush to get it all out.
I placed my hand on his bare chest, over his heart. “I want you. I know there’s something holding you back, but I don’t care. Because I think you want me too.”
“Lilly.” He covered my hand at his chest, where beneath my palm his own beat raced like thoroughbreds around the track.
I thought he was going to move me away, push me out the door.
Instead, he yanked me forward, slammed the door behind me and before I’d found my footing, his lips crushed into mine. He kissed me harshly, taking entrance to my mouth almost immediately and I gave it, tasting alcohol on his tongue and inhaling the scent of it before he yanked back.
“This is a bad idea.”
I dug fingers into his hair. “I don’t care. I want this.You.”
He pressed his forehead to mine, eyes peering down at me. Indecision warred in his expression, and I caught the exact moment he broke. The exact moment he closed his eyes and a breath left him in such a rush, his entire body shook from me.
“Forgive me,” he muttered right before he pressed his lips to mine again.
