16. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
Hudson
“My office—now.”
In the entire three years I’ve worked here, I’ve never been called into my boss’s office for something I did wrong.
And honestly, I didn’t do anything wrong this time either.
Trey did. I didn’t tell him to show up, and I certainly didn’t approve of it when I saw him at my door.
I’d thought it was Jason again, asking me for a report that I told him I would have at the end of the day, to which he’d said was fine.
I have a million other things I am trying to handle, so his pointless report on third-down efficiency trends is not my priority.
I’m still working on performance baselines from last season, and I need them finished to prepare for camp.
I take a few deep breaths before heading to Thompson’s office. I close the door behind me without him telling me to do so.
“What the hell was that?” he grunts.
I know the language isn’t appropriate, but this is a rugged sport. These guys talk to each other like this all the damn time and it’s just accepted. Normally, it’s not a problem for me, and I guess I can’t say it is today either.
“Honestly, I don’t know.”
“Well he sure seemed to know you . I didn’t miss you shoving him. Do I need to call security?”
“No, of course not. He’s an old friend. I think he thought it was okay to find me since he was here for… work.”
He raises a brow. “So you didn’t let him in here?”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t do that. I know people aren’t allowed in this area. We have classified reports hanging around.”
He nods, tapping on his desk as he thinks something over.
“I don’t think he was here to take anything, by the way,” I add. “He’s not like that. I truly think he just wanted to say hello.”
“You better tell him not to do it again. It’s employees only back here.”
“Already planned on it, sir.”
“I will say this does work out in my favor with those fobs, though. How can they deny me now that someone got back here… again ?”
“I don’t think they can, sir.”
He narrows his eyes at me like he forgot I was here.
“Get back to work, Daniels.” He shoos me with one hand while reaching for his desk phone with the other. I hurry out of his office and back into mine.
There is a notification waiting for me on my phone from Trey. Just a simple sorry. I swipe it away with no intention of responding.
Trey isn’t a bad guy and he didn’t come here with bad intentions, I get that. But this isn’t the sort of place you can just waltz into. I get he wanted to see HR, and it seemed like that was his plan, but who the hell let him back here on his own? At the very least, he’s supposed to have an escort.
“This is such a mess,” I groan, burying my face in my hands.
I give myself to the count of thirty to be stressed out about this, then I lift my head, drink some water, and go back to work, pulling numbers to plug into these reports so we can get information for camp that starts in just a few weeks.
I’m not behind or anything—it just seems that no matter how much I prepare, I’m always crunching numbers until the last minute.
I need data from other people before I can put my stuff together, and sometimes that takes forever.
They all wait until the very last minute and Thompson told me I couldn’t push my dates any more to make them give me stuff sooner.
Ridiculous, but I have to listen to the guy. He’s my boss.
I get through the rest of my day, and thankfully my work, but I’m only half focused on what I have to do, which makes more work for me because I am triple-checking everything.
Trey keeps coming to mind, and the damn guilt that’s made a home in my chest won’t go away no matter how much water I drink—as if it’s supposed to just wash it away.
I pick up my phone a handful of times with the intention of texting Trey back, but each time I drop it back to my desk and tell myself to focus on work.
His joke about me finding time to work didn’t go over my head. I know I text him a lot throughout the day, but that’s on my schedule. I make time to chat with him, and if he texts me when I’m busy, I don’t answer until I can.
Him showing up like that… well, it threw me for a loop and caused way more of a scene than necessary.
When I get through the day without HR knocking on my door, I’m relieved. Though, he could be waiting until tomorrow morning to speak with me. Or call me when I get home to tell me not to show up tomorrow. It’s unlikely but not impossible.
Thompson seemed to believe me and put his attention on something else—hopefully they’ll approve everyone who works back here to have a badge that we will need to swipe to get in through the doors. Trey isn’t the only person who’s gotten back here.
Just since I’ve been here there have been two crazed fans per season, family members, and even a homeless guy looking for a bathroom.
We have a lot of important information here that would really help out some other teams. The last thing we need is someone getting into it. So, yeah, Thompson isn’t entirely wrong with wanting that. I’m in support of it.
My day is done, so I grab my things and go to my car. I put all the windows down to let in the fresh air and glance up at the sky. It probably already rained for the day, which it tends to do around this time of year since it’s so humid.
I start my car and put it in drive, but then slam it back into park and grab my phone from my pocket. Trey said he was going to be at the convention tomorrow, which is right near the Hilton.
I try not to dwell on the fact that if he’s going to a convention for work, he’d have known about it long enough to give me a heads up—yet didn’t.
Of course, how is he supposed to know I hate surprises? And surprises at work? Fucking nightmare.
I enter the Hilton’s address into my GPS and follow the directions until I’m pulling into the parking lot. I head into the lobby. I could be completely off, but something tells me I’m not. I’ll know soon enough.
I hate lying, but if he is staying here, the only way I’m getting up to his room is to do so. And I don’t want to give him the heads up that I’m on the way. I want to catch him off guard.
I pull out my phone and scroll through the text thread with Trey as I walk up to the counter.
“Hi, can I help you?”
“Yes, actually you can. My brother is staying here, and I swear he gave me his room number—” I flash the text.
“But I can’t find it and he isn’t answering his cell.
We’re going to be late for our dinner reservation.
” I keep scrolling through the text, pretending to be annoyed.
“Could you just call up to his room and let him know I’m down here? Trey Kelly.”
“Sure thing,” the woman says, picking up the phone on the desk.
I keep scrolling with my thumb, but my gaze is on the phone as she punches in the numbers.
“Wait, never mind. Just found it! Thank you!” I call as I hurry off toward the elevator.
I hit the button for 25— the top floor. The elevator doors open, and I step into a small hallway with expensive artwork on the wall, an end table with a vase of fresh flowers, and a blue velvet chair. The one and only door is to the right, so I go that way and knock—no, bang , on the door.
It’s pulled open a moment later, and I can’t help but think about how the tables have turned.
He’s shocked to see me. That makes me happy.
Though, I have no idea why. What am I going to do now?
I was angry when I came here, but now that he’s in front of me, I can’t yell at him.
All I can do is stare at him. Or rather at the way he has three buttons undone on his shirt, and the fact his sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, which shows off his forearms. “Hudson?”
“Uh, hi,” I say, running my hand over the back of my neck. “Can I come in?”
He steps aside, not saying a word, and I walk in.
Everything is expensive, shiny, and spacious. I turn on my heel to face Trey just as he’s walking toward me.
“What the hell, Trey?”
“I’m sorry!” he blurts. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal. I was just trying to surprise you.”
“At my work? We’re not supposed to have visitors.”
“I-I didn’t know. I was just in the area and thought it would be nice to surprise you.”
“I hate surprises!” I nearly shout. “And I know you didn’t know that, but you do now, so just… please, don’t do that again.”
His eyebrows furrow a bit and he frowns. He holds his hands up in defense. His blue eyes find mine and he holds my gaze.
“I won’t. I swear. I’m so sorry, Huds.” He steps closer to me, and though my first instinct is to back away, I can’t seem to find it in me to do so. I look up at him. “I just wanted to see you… and I thought it would be a good idea, but I see now that it wasn’t.”
I take a deep breath and nod.
“You didn’t know.”
He shakes his head.
I work to keep my heart rate down and relax.
Then it hits me. Here I am, standing in front of Trey. I look at him, taking in the details I was too infuriated to see earlier.
He still looks smooth, with his silk button down, even though he’s rolled up the sleeves and popped the top buttons.
His black slacks are tailored and fit his body like a glove.
My gaze roves back up to his face—his facial hair neatly trimmed, his dark hair slightly messy, but somehow still polished.
I’ve missed him more than I’d ever like to admit, and even tried to avoid it.
I was the one who told him what happened between us didn’t have to be anything, and I have to stick to my word.
I won’t freak him out, and I won’t make this difficult for us.
Neither one of us has mentioned anything about what happened at the hotel that night.
I assume if he enjoyed it, he’d want to talk about it, yet he hasn’t brought it up.
So, it’s just like this secret we have now, I guess.
Trey says nothing as he holds my gaze. Almost as if he’s unsure of what to do or say. His gaze softens along with my resolve.
“It’s nice to see you,” I say, which causes him to smile and the tension in the room to die down.
“Fuck,” he breathes out. “It’s nice to see you too, Huds.
” And just like that, the silence doesn’t feel so suffocating.
His smile isn’t fake. Not like it was earlier.
Some people you can just tell when they are being truthful, when they mean it.
Trey’s one of those people. He holds his arms out, and I hug him.
It feels good. I squeeze him a little tighter, and he squeezes me right back.
His hold on me tightens and I let out a heavy sigh.
When I breathe in, I get a whiff of his scent—some odd mix of something sweet I can’t quite place, mixed with something musky and spicy.
It’s oddly relaxing, though I know it shouldn’t be.
We stay like that for longer than is appropriate for a hello, I haven’t seen you in a while and we’re just friends hug.
But I don’t have many things in life that feel good, and this does, so I don’t want to let it go.
“You good, Huds?” he asks quietly.
I don’t answer. I just keep hugging him. He’s warm and his tight grip on me feels too good to give up.
I have no idea how long it’s been when we pull apart. Our eyes meet, and I’ve never craved kissing someone before. Not like this.
He licks his lips, still holding my gaze, almost like he’s having the same thoughts I am, but… we said we weren’t going to make a thing out of this and we haven’t talked about it and…
“I really want to kiss you right now,” he says, his words soft, almost scared. “I’m sorry if that’s weird.”
“It’s not,” I say, grabbing the back of his neck and going in for a kiss.