19. Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
Trey
I hear the honking of a horn and look up immediately to see Hudson pull up in his car.
When I told him I was planning to arrive early and stay in a hotel, he told me in the most Hudson way possible—sternly and matter-of-factly—that I was staying with him and I wouldn’t need a rental because he has a car.
It was kind of nice, if I’m being honest, to have someone take over.
I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have to book a hotel or a car.
Part of me wanted to argue with him, but I also know Hudson well enough to know if he doesn’t want to do something, he won’t.
It’s been three months since we’ve seen each other.
Three months since I had his dick in my mouth…
and didn’t hate it. I’m not sure I’d do it again.
But I’m not sure I wouldn’t, either. I think it means something, I just…
don’t know what. Sometimes I wonder if Hudson thinks about those moments like I do.
I wonder if he thinks about me and the moments we don’t talk about, when he’s alone with his hand wrapped around his dick, like I do. Probably not.
Which is why I need to stop thinking about all of it and just enjoy my time off with my friends this weekend. I need to relax. Work’s been so busy with this being the most intense sales quarter of the year. It’s only four days, not much at all, but I’m going to make the most of it.
When he gets out of his car, I can’t help but relax. The moment of melancholy disappears as he jogs up to me and throws his arms around me, hugging me so hard, so tight, he nearly knocks me over. I let out a chuckle as he apologizes.
“Sorry.”
I squeeze him tighter than I should because fuck, I missed this. I missed his familiar rainwater scent, his solid, warm body. I missed him.
I breathe him in, letting his scent fill my lungs. I bought a bottle of his cologne after he told me what it was, but I swear it doesn’t smell as good on me as it does on him.
“Good to see you, too, Huds,” I say as I regrettably let go to hold him out in front of me, taking a look at him.
He clears his throat, standing up straighter. The motion is almost like a switch has been flipped. He looks nervous.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, though the words are off. Stiff, maybe even a little practiced. He said the holidays put him in a weird mood, so I won’t dwell on it.
“Thanks for picking me up,” I say as he grabs my suitcase and tosses it into the trunk. “And letting me stay with you.” I head for the passenger door, but he beats me to it, pulling it open.
“Of course,” he says briskly. “That’s what friends are for.”
Something about the way he says the words feels off. Like he isn’t sure about them.
But once the car door shuts, he eases up a fraction.
The whole way back to Hudson’s, we chat the same way we do on the phone every day.
He talks a mile a minute. I know enough to know he rambles when he’s nervous or when he’s excited, but I can’t tell which is the reason right now, though I’m not sure it matters.
I soak up his presence like it’s a damn drug, and maybe it is.
Just being with him is a sort of comfort.
It always was like that, but now… it’s different.
I don’t know how to explain it, so I just enjoy it.
We talk about my awful flight and his job, and Austen and Cameron’s engagement—which only happened two days ago.
We talk about Alex and Mack—who told us a few months ago, they are dating and have been for awhile—and Hudson agrees Alex is worse now because of it.
I laugh, and he does too. Music fills the space, and I can’t help but feel at ease.
We go over the plan for tomorrow at least three times, for which Hudson apologizes four times, that he doesn’t mean to keep repeating himself, but I don’t care.
I like listening to him talk. I like hearing his voice.
I’ve gotten used to hearing it every day.
He goes on and on about work and his idiot boss, and some statistics issue I don’t understand whatsoever.
Hudson could read me the phone book and make it interesting, I swear.
I can’t help but smile as I stare at him while he keeps talking.
My gaze drifts from his messy golden-brown hair over his ear to his neck.
I stare at it like a fucking vampire, hungry for blood. I know the sounds he makes when I kiss him there. But it’s not just that spot that I can’t stop looking at. It’s him.
Hudson’s always been a good-looking guy, but when did he get… hot?
When did that happen?
“What?” he asks as we pull up to a stop sign. It’s only then I realize that I’ve completely spaced out and have been staring at him long enough I forgot what we were talking about. My cheeks heat, because not only did I space out, but he caught me staring at him like a weirdo.
Fuck.
I clear my throat. “Nothing.”
Nothing but another secret to add to the pile.
Hudson gives me a weird look, and I tense, almost worried he can somehow read my mind, which is insane.
I shift in my seat, shaking my head. “Just forget it, okay?”
Hudson grunts as he focuses on the road, taking off once more. I turn my face toward the window, nonchalantly adjusting my dick which seems to have a mind of its own these days.
“Wow,” is all I can say as I take in the white shutters and the wrap-around porch. “You live here?”
Hudson shrugs. “Obviously.”
“I mean… it’s just—”
He pulls my suitcase out of the trunk of his car.
“Too much?” Hudson says, and I don’t miss the disdain in his voice. “For one person.”
It’s big, sure, but it isn’t ostentatious.
It’s… roomy. Cozy. I can imagine coming home to a place like this.
It’s a far cry from my condo in Miami on the beach that I rarely see.
The neighborhood is quiet, all that can be heard is the faint sounds of birds tweeting and kids laughing off in the distance, but otherwise it’s peaceful.
I shake my head. “No. I was going to say it’s perfect.”
And it is. Everything about it is . I turn to look at him with a grin. “It’s so you. ”
His gaze softens, and I swear I see his cheeks flush. I move to grab my suitcase, but he doesn’t let me take it.
Arguing is pointless, and maybe I like it a little. It’s nice to have someone do something for me because they want to, not because they have to—because they’re paid.
The inside of the house is just as beautiful as I knew it would be. Everything is shiny and bright, like it’s brand new, but I know he’s had the place for awhile.
He holds my gaze for a moment before he steps forward, leaving my suitcase by the couch. He stops in front of me, and I’m acutely aware of how close he is. How good he smells.
How utterly hot he looks in his navy blue Under Armour sweatpants and matching sweatshirt.
He slides his hands into his pockets, some hair falling out of place.
Carefully, he pushes it back with one hand.
His gaze drifts to my mouth, where it hovers far too long.
I lean down just an inch, my gaze dipping to his mouth, and then it happens.
Hudson leans up and kisses me. It’s fast. Too fast, if I’m being honest. He pulls away, his gaze filling with panic as he clears his throat.
“Sorry,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. He looks back up at me, his voice dark and raspier than usual. “I didn’t mean to make it weird.”
“It’s not,” I say, but I think it is. Though maybe it’s not weird in the sense that he did it, but weird in the sense that I think I wanted him to. But I don’t tell him that. Instead, I say, “I think you mean thank you, ” and I kiss him again, but it’s not quick. It’s slow, but easy.
I’m too aware of how easy it is. How soft his lips are. How my dick is responding even though I’m trying not to pay attention to it. I told myself I wasn’t going to do this.
And yet, here I am, in the middle of his kitchen, slipping my tongue into his mouth.
Fuck.
When I pull away, he looks up at me with confusion, and it takes me a minute to remember what we were talking about.
“It’s Thanksgiving, you’re supposed to be thankful, not sorry,” I say, my heart racing so loud I think he can hear it.
He laughs, really laughs. It’s smooth and deep and warm. But I think that’s just Hudson.
That’s just who he is.
Soon enough, the tension disappears, and I find myself laughing too. We sound like hyenas from the acoustics in his kitchen.
“Fucking hell, Trey.”
“Just saying.” I shrug.
We go quiet, and he looks up at me with the most authentic smile I’ve ever seen.
“Thank you,” he says.
“For what? I just got here,” I tease him.
He rolls his eyes.
“I’m just… really glad you’re here.”
The humor fades, replaced by something warmer.
Deeper. This time, the words are genuine; like he really truly believes them. Like he really is happy I am here.
“Me, too.” It’s the truth. I am glad to be here. With him.
“You hungry?” he asks, clearing his throat.
“I could eat,” I say, leaning against his kitchen counter.
Hudson pulls his phone out and starts tapping away.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what I want?”
He shakes his head, not looking up from his phone.
“I know what you want,” he says.
“Oh, are you a mind reader now?” I ask with a laugh.
Hudson shrugs, slipping his phone into his pocket.
“Guess you’ll find out in thirty minutes.”
After the long day of traveling and an oversized sushi burrito, it’s no surprise that I fell asleep on Hudson’s couch. I rub my eyes as I stir and look to my side, nearly jumping when I see Hudson, awake, reading a book next to me.
“Jesus. What time is it?” I mutter.
“Nine,” he answers, not missing a beat.
“Shit.” I groan. I’ve slept most of the day away. Hudson’s gaze roves over me. “I didn’t mean to pass the fuck out on you.”
“You were tired. It’s fine.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not.”
He closes his book and sets it on the coffee table.
“I wanted us to hang out. Do stuff. Take pictures,” I add, and I can hear the disdain in my voice.
“Pictures?” He narrows his gaze at me.
I lean my head back and run a hand down my face.
“Yeah, it’s dumb, I know. But everyone’s posting all their holiday shit, and I—” I stare at his ceiling.
The room is quiet, except for the low volume of the sports announcers on TV.
“I don’t have any pictures.” A deep sigh escapes me.
“It’s stupid, I know. I just…” I let out a tired groan.
“We don’t have any new pictures, you know?
Just old ones from school and Vegas and Austen’s first wedding.
No one bothered to take any in New York, and…
I don’t know. Forget I said anything, okay?
I’m not thinking clearly because I’m tired. ”
I move to get up, but Hudson grabs my wrist and stops me.
“It’s okay,” he says, his voice soft. “You had a long flight.”
He awkwardly shifts himself as he reaches an arm around the back of the couch. Without thinking, I lean my head on his shoulder.
“It’s no excuse,” I mutter. I don’t know why I feel so melancholy all of a sudden.
Well, maybe I do , but it has nothing to do with pictures and everything to do with all my friends falling in love and building their futures together.
It’s the stark reminder that it’s the holidays and I’m single.
I look up at Hudson. His gaze holds mine, and he looks like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it.
I notice he does that a lot. A lot more than he used to these days.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice soft.
Hudson’s eyes darken, and I feel his fingertips brush the edge of my shoulder.
It’s quiet for a moment, and I think he’s not going to say anything.
And then he leans in and kisses me. It’s not quick or apologetic. It’s slow and dare I say soft.
When he breaks away, he whispers, “Go to sleep, Trey.”
I close my eyes, unable to fight the tiredness creeping in again.
I sleep like a damn baby on Hudson’s couch, cuddled against him.
When I wake up, his arms are still around me, and he’s asleep.
I need to get up and piss. But before I do, I can’t help but steal a moment.
My fingers brush over his parted lips, feeling their softness, remembering how they feel against my own.
I kiss his bottom lip gently, and he grumbles in his sleep, but he doesn’t stir.
My thumb grazes his jaw, feeling the faint hint of stubble coming in there. My fingers slide into his hair and he looks so damn peaceful, I wish I could freeze this moment forever.
And then I realize I can.
I slide my hand into my pocket, bringing out my phone, which is almost dead. I’ll have to charge it before we leave today.
As carefully and quietly as I can, I bring up my camera and snap a photo.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” I whisper, even though I know he can’t hear me. “It’s just a picture.”
Just another secret to keep.