Page 81 of All the Ugly Things
I’d seen Hudson in all manner of dress in the last several weeks. From a full suit at work, to athletic pants and a T-shirt at the diner, to slacks and polo when he was hunched over the church steps, and yet nothing prepared me for the sight in front of me.
Hudson, hair styled and swept to the side, recently shaven based on the quick whiff of cologne or aftershave that sent certain parts of me tingling.
His head dipped down, eyes widening as he took in my skinny jeans and fitted top and bright red heels.
He wore jeans curved around his thighs and fell straight down, tight enough there wasn’t a whole lot left to the imagination.
I yanked my eyes up to his cream sweater, the blue dress collar peeking out above the sweater’s hem and picked my jaw up off the floor.
“Hey,” I said, lamely. Perhaps I should have smacked myself in the face for the stupid comment.Hey?
Hudson grinned. “Hey yourself. You look beautiful.”
A shiver of warmth flickered through my fingertips straight to my stomach. Beautiful? Perhaps years ago. Now I felt worn and old and aged in not such a great way.
If there was a mirror close by I’d check it, try to figure out exactly what he saw in me I didn’t.
“Thank you.” I stepped back so he could enter. “I forgot my sweater and then I’ll be ready.”
“No hurry.”
My sweater was draped over my couch in the living room. The little white lie was necessary for me to have a moment or two to gain my composure. Good grief. I’d practically jumped him in my doorway, and how embarrassing would that have been?
Yet… hadn’t his eyes lingered a little too long on me as well?
Enough. That assumption didn’t need to be watered.
Hurrying to my closet, I flipped through hangers, trying to find something else and came out with a dark red, crocheted sweater. Not as pretty as the one I’d first chosen, but it worked so I didn’t look like a fool.
“Just a friend,” I reminded myself, slipping my arms into the sleeves. “He’s just a friend.”
Pep talk done and nerves calmed, I headed back to the living area where I found Hudson resting against the door to my apartment, casually leaning, one hand in a pocket of his jeans, ankles crossed at the floor.
Looking so much like a model from a teenage department store, my heart flipped a few beats before resettling.
“Ready?”
“Yes. Where are we going?”
“Somewhere close.” He stepped aside and opened my apartment door while I grabbed my keys and purse, now filled with pepper spray.
He waited until I locked my door and guided me toward the elevator where the doors opened almost as quick as he pressed the button. We stepped inside and I was immediately overwhelmed with the closeness of him next to me. The scent of that fresh cologne, smelling like fresh laundry and clean air.
“It’s just dinner,” he said, and from the reflection in the mirrored doors, he held that same amused look.
“I know.”
“You look ready to bolt. If you’re not comfortable…”
“I am.” I was also being an idiot. I knew that, but I was strung tighter than piano wire.
The elevator came to a stop and I burst out of it, Hudson laughing behind me. “Yes, you seem calm.”
He was going to think I was crazy anyway, and heck, he’d already had several fine doses of seeing my strange behavior. I might as well tell him.
I slowed my steps and waited for him to catch up. Wrapping my arms around my stomach, I did my best to protect myself while admitting, “I know this isn’t a date, but well… it kind of is for me, you know? Dinner with a guy I don’t really know that well? And, well, I haven’t had that…”
Emotion bloomed at the backs of my eyes as Hudson’s amused expression morphed to something else, sadder with a hint of pity.
