Chapter 5 Hux
HUX
Something was wrong. I knew it the second I walked into the roadhouse that evening.
Allegra was there, helping Elsa and Gabby bring out plates for the crew, but she wouldn’t look at me. Every time I tried to catch her eye, she turned away. Found something else to do. Someone else to talk to.
The guys were oblivious, too busy devouring the food she’d made to notice the tension radiating off her. But I noticed. I felt it like a cold front moving through the room.
The storm was finally weakening. Roads would be passable by morning, maybe sooner. Life was about to go back to normal.
And Allegra was pulling away.
I waited until she disappeared into the kitchen, then pushed back from the table. Conner raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Smart man.
She was alone when I found her, scrubbing a pot that probably didn’t need scrubbing. Her shoulders were tight, her movements jerky. She knew I was there—I wasn’t exactly quiet—but she didn’t turn around.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” I asked.
“Nothing’s going on.” She scrubbed harder. “I’m just busy.”
“Bullshit.”
That got her to stop. She set the pot down and braced her hands on the edge of the sink. But she still didn’t face me.
“What happened earlier…” She took a breath. “We got caught up in the storm. The intensity. The close quarters. Maybe we should take a step back. Think about this rationally.”
There it was. The wall going back up, brick by brick.
“Rationally,” I repeated.
“I have a plan, Hux. I’ve always had a plan. And it doesn’t include—” She stopped herself, shaking her head.
“Doesn’t include what? Me?”
Silence. That was answer enough.
I should fight. Should argue, convince her, make her see what I saw. But I was so damn tired of being the one who had to prove he was worth keeping around. Tired of chasing people who were already halfway out the door.
“I’ve spent my whole life being the guy people walk away from,” I said quietly. “Thought I was done being that. Guess not.”
I turned and pushed through the swinging door, back into the dining room. The guys looked up as I passed, but I didn’t stop. Didn’t explain. Just grabbed my coat and headed for the exit.
“Hux—” Her voice came from somewhere behind me.
I didn’t stop.
The cold hit me like a slap when I stepped outside, but I welcomed it. Cleared my head. I trudged across the street to the firehouse, where earlier, a couple of the guys had been working on digging out the truck bay.
I grabbed a shovel and got to work.
I don’t know how long I was out there. Long enough for my fingers to go numb, for the sweat to freeze on my back. Long enough to replay every word she’d said and wonder where I’d gone wrong.
“Hux.”
Her voice came from behind me. I straightened, turned. Allegra stood in the snow, arms wrapped around herself, no coat. She was shivering, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“You’re going to freeze,” I said.
“I don’t care.” She took a step closer. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I got scared and I pushed you away and that was wrong.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Let me finish.” She held up a hand, and I shut my mouth.
“I don’t know how to do this. The relationship thing.
The staying thing. My whole life, I’ve been focused on getting out.
Building something somewhere else. And then you showed up, and suddenly I’m thinking about what it would mean to stay, and that terrifies me. ”
“Allegra—”
“But I don’t want to lose you just because I’m too stubborn to try.” Her voice cracked. “I don’t want to be the person who walks away from something real because it wasn’t part of the plan.”
I closed the distance between us, cupping her face in my frozen hands.
“I’m not asking you to give up your dreams,” I said. “I’m asking you to let me be part of them. Open your restaurant here—I’ll be your first customer every damn day. Or open it in Asheville, and I’ll move. I don’t care where we are, as long as we’re together.”
Her eyes were bright, wet. “You’d do that? Move for me?”
“In a heartbeat.” I brushed my thumb across her cheek. “Just don’t decide I’m not worth the risk before you even give me a chance.”
She grabbed the front of my coat and pulled me down to her, kissing me hard. When she pulled back, she was almost smiling.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said. “Not yet. Maybe not ever.”
I grinned, feeling something loosen in my chest. “Careful, chef. Keep talking like that, and I might start thinking you like me.”
“I love you, you idiot.”
The words hit me like a wave. I went still, heart pounding.
“Say it again.”
“I love you.” She was smiling now, really smiling. “I love you, Hux.”
I pulled her close, burying my face in her hair and holding on like I’d never let go. Because I wouldn’t. Not ever.
My phone buzzed. I pulled it out, glanced at the screen. A text from Wolfe.
We’re fine. Stop asking.
I showed Allegra.
She raised an eyebrow. “We?”
“Long story.” I pocketed the phone and looked up at the sky. The clouds were thinning, the snow finally tapering off. By morning, the roads would be clear.
But I wasn’t thinking about roads. I was thinking about the woman in my arms.
“So,” I said, grinning down at her. “What’s for dinner?”
She laughed, and the sound settled into my chest like coming home.