19. Faith
Five minutes later, a knock came on my door. My heart lurched into my throat, and I raced to the entrance that led down to the alley. After checking the peephole and seeing Hudson’s face, I set a hand against my chest and took a moment to breathe.
Once I felt secure enough to keep my composure in front of him, I exhaled and pulled the door open.
He was wearing a suit and tie, and everything I’d done to keep my heart rate in check flew right out the window.
“What the hell are you wearing?”
“Huh?” He glanced down at himself, then added, “Oh. Yeah. I had my six-month evaluation at work this evening. Didn’t get a chance to change out of the monkey suit before I had to leave home again.”
I wanted to ask him why he’d had to leave home so unexpectedly in the first place, but…
He was wearing a suit.
Unable to get past that, I backed myself into the nearest wall and stared, basically forced to gawk unashamedly.
“Suit,” I whimpered, no longer operating with brain cells but supercharged by hormones alone.
He sent me an amused squint as he slipped his hand down his tie and stepped close. “Yes, I’m in a suit,” he answered before he grinned suddenly and winked. “And I look good in it, too, don’t I? But, uh…” He motioned his finger around me. “That steamy gleam in your eyes is kind of getting me stirred up. You might want to cut that out if you don’t want me to pounce. And why are you hovering against the wall like that?”
Pounce? Had he said pounce? What a good idea.
I shuddered, and all my self-discipline crumbled. “To keep myself from doing…this.”
Reaching out, I grabbed his tie and yanked him forward with it, intent to crush his mouth against mine.
But the man had super reflexes. “Whoa. Hey!” he cautioned, slamming his palm against the wall near my face to brace himself from getting tugged all the way in.
Our noses were about five inches apart as he grinned and shook his head. “Down, girl. I thought you were an all-looky, no-touchy kind of stalker.”
“What in God’s name made you think that?” I demanded, scowling slightly as I tugged experimentally on his tie, only to find his resistance firm and unwavering. “I never agreed to that.”
“It’s part of this unspoken thing between us,” he argued, looking amused as his attention strayed down to my mouth.
I scowled. “There’s no unspoken thing between us.”
His gaze shot back up to mine, and when his eyebrows crinkled in a really? kind of way, I started to melt.
“Sure there is,” he murmured in a silken, hot voice that made my freaking ovaries start to sizzle.
And those eyebrows…
Oh God, he was using them on me, and it was the most amazing thing in the world.
I begged him with my stare, pleaded with him to change his mind and just kiss me already.
In return, his features softened. His head swayed toward me, loosening to the pull between us. He was giving in to the idea, I could see it on his face.
So I whispered, “I’m wearing your favorite panties,” hoping to hook him completely.
He froze, lips parting. “The lacy white ones?”
When I nodded, he rasped out a hoarse groan. “Oh, you don’t play fair. You don’t play fair at all.”
“I’m not playing,” I promised and was able to pull him in closer, closer, until?—
He winced abruptly and resisted, shaking his head. “Fucking hell, Faith. I’m not free. I’m with Genesis.”
That name made my blood boil. With a hiss, I narrowed my eyes. “Like I care about hurting her.”
“But do you care about hurting me?” he countered, and I snapped my gaze to his in surprise. He shook his head slightly as if begging me to understand. “Because this is about me. Not her. And I’m not a cheater. Doesn’t matter how unfeeling or unpleasant it is with her; I’m with her, meaning that’s where my commitment lies until she’s ready to release me. So please stop tempting me otherwise.”
Not liking that answer at all, I sniffed. “Then why didn’t you just call her and ask to stay over there?”
His face puckered with disgust. “I said I was with her, not that I liked her. I only go over there when I’m ordered to, never of my own volition.”
I shook my head. “That makes no sense at all.”
He shrugged. “Well, it is what it is.”
Which didn’t clear anything up for me. So I rolled my eyes. “You sound like her lackey, not her damn boyfriend.”
Hudson only grinned. “Same thing in her book.” Then he gently took a portion of the tie between his fingers and lifted his eyebrows at me, silently asking me to release my hold on it. “You know why I’m doing this.”
“But—”
“It wouldn’t be fair to you either,” he murmured, causing me to pause and look into his eyes. His brows lifted severely. “Tell me honestly, how would you like it if I had to roll out of your bed just when things were getting interesting because she’d snapped her fingers and needed something? Because that’s exactly what would happen. For the time being, she owns me. I am her lackey. I am playing her game to get what I want.”
Grimacing, I reluctantly let go of his tie. “Fine.”
“Thank you,” he breathed, looking relieved yet regretful as he took a step back.
“But I’m warning you,” I told him as I held up a stern finger. “If you come back around here, wearing a leash like that and looking like the embodiment of amazing sex again, I won’t be held responsible for what happens next.”
“A leash?” Looking amused by the term, he completely ignored the meat of my warning.
I nodded. “My biggest fantasy starts with a guy wearing something exactly like the outfit you’re wearing right now.”
His eyebrows arched. “Interesting.” He lifted a finger. “But I’m not going to ask. Tonight, I’m a good boy.” Turning away, he shuddered and started into the room, only to stall short a second later. “Holy shit.” His arms spread wide as he took in the scene. “You haven’t put anything back to normal yet.”
I squinted at him. “You sound surprised.”
“Well, sure.” He tossed me a smile over his shoulder. “You struck me as the type who had a certain place for everything and didn’t like it being rearranged without your permission.”
I blinked at him. “Then why did you rearrange everything?”
He shrugged and lifted a hand. “I mean, I had to at least test the theory to make sure I was right.”
I scoffed. “Unbelievable.” Shaking my head, I added, “Well, you were right. I am that type.”
Except, instead of apologizing, the confusing, charming, yet irritating and irresistibly entertaining bastard only smiled. “Then, I’m flattered.” He flopped down onto my couch and swung an arm over the backrest. “So this is my bed for the night, huh?”
Unless you’re willing to become a cheater after all,I very nearly cajoled.
Hissing out a relieved breath, he turned so he could stretch his legs out across the cushions and rest his head on one end. Seemingly satisfied, he glanced up at me with a grin. “This isn’t that lumpy at all. I’ve slept on way worse.”
I opened my mouth to tell him I’d get him a pillow and blanket when a black ball of fur jumped up onto him and began to prance up his chest for attention.
“Hey, hey!” he greeted in immediate delight as he began to pet the cat. “You actually kept Whiskers.”
I scowled as I sank into a side chair, unable to help myself; it was simply imperative to stop everything and watch the pair together. “Her name’s Salem,” I even found myself telling him.
“Her?” Gripping the cat’s rib cage, he lifted it just enough to check out the goods. “Well, what do you know, he’s a she.”
I shook my head and huffed out a dismayed sound. “I still can’t believe you got me a freaking cat. I’m not a cat person.”
“I don’t know,” he taunted, giving Salem all the attention she was demanding, dancing around his hand as he petted and scratched right where she seemed to enjoy it the most. “She seems pretty content to me. You must be doing something right.”
I sniffed to disagree. But then I grew distracted by watching him charm her. Those long fingers looked so talented and nimble. I squeezed my thighs together as I pulled my knees up toward my chest on the chair and hugged my arms around them.
As I rested my chin on the tops, unable to look away, he glanced over and caught me staring.
“What?” he asked with lifted eyebrows.
I shook my head. “I just can’t get over the fact that you’re in my living room right now.”
Hudson sent me a lazy smile before he returned his attention to Salem. “It’s not how I thought the night would go either.”
When he found a spot on the cat that she liked getting scratched, she squirmed against his hand, demanding more, and she got everything she asked for.
The lucky bitch.
With a thick swallow, I glanced away. “And I still don’t understand it. Not any of it.” Catching sight of the picture of himself he’d put on my wall, I blinked to abate the sudden stinging in my eyes as I asked, “Why?”
He tipped his head in question, so I went on. “Why did you come here? Why—why did you do all this to my apartment? Why would you put so much time and attention into something like…” I motioned to the photograph. “Like that?”
He glanced over curiously, then swung his gaze back to me. “I already told you. I’m testing the waters.” But that only caused my brows to furrow in confusion, so he elaborated, “I’m learning my boundaries, seeing how close the stingray will let me swim before she fries my ass.”
I shook my head, not comprehending a word he said, only to wrinkle my nose a moment later. “Did you just compare me to a stingray?”
Hudson shrugged. “Sure. I like stingrays.”
I scoffed. “Name one thing that’s stingray-like about me.”
“Okay.” He began to nod in thought and noticeably sucked his bottom lip between his teeth before snapping his fingers and pointing. “Ooh. They have wings but live in the water. That’s fucking fascinating.”
“Except I don’t have wings!” I cried and lifted my hands in dismay, not seeing how that made me like them. “And I certainly don’t live in the water.”
“But you’re fucking fascinating,” he countered.
“What?” This guy was completely mental. “How? I’m a freaking twenty-year-old waitress just trying to make ends meet as I struggle my way through college. There are a million other people out there just like me. So why aren’t you staying at their place and reorganizing their underwear drawer?”
“Because none of them told me I could stay over,” he said as if that were the most logical answer there was to give.
“Oh my God,” I groaned. “You’re impossible. Why—just—ugh! I don’t get it. That’s all. I don’t understand.”
When the cat abruptly jumped off his lap, he lifted his hands after her as if to ask what he’d done wrong, only to sigh and swing his legs over the side so he could sit upright again. And once he comfortably slumped back with one ankle resting on top of the other knee, he clasped his hands together behind his head and focused on me. “You’re the one who started this, Stalker. For some reason, you found me intriguing enough to watch. So sue me if I’m intrigued back.”
When I opened my mouth to contest that point, he held up a finger to pause me. “You watched me enough to gain the attention of my friends. All I’m doing is returning the favor. But I can’t just watch. I have to know. And the fastest, most expedient way I get to know people is by pushing their buttons and testing how far they’ll let you go, how close to them they’ll let you creep. I invade as much as I can until you put up that wall and set your boundaries. And that is where I stop and survey all the space left over for us to play.”
“Well, stop,” I said. “You’ve gone too far.”
“Nope. It doesn’t work that way, sorry.” With a grin, he shook his head. “Telling me with your words isn’t good enough. People hardly ever mean what they say. Some will say they’re okay when they’re not, and some will try to act offended when secretly they like having that space invaded. And I think you’re more of an option two kind of girl. With me, anyway. You wouldn’t have let me back into this apartment otherwise. And that’s why I listen to actions. Like with Whiskers here,” he added when the cat reappeared and jumped onto his lap once again.
“Salem,” I corrected.
“I start simple,” he said. “With a safe stroke along her back, right?”
He began to pet her, and the cat arched up her spine, seeking more.
“Then, I test the waters,” he murmured softly, scratching her behind the ears, which she seemed to like as well. “Try just a little bit more to learn her likes and dislikes.”
He easily smoothed his hand down her front leg, and she immediately jerked her paw from under his fingers.
“Ope,” he murmured, grinning. “She doesn’t like that, does she? Don’t do that again.”
And he went back to scratching her behind the ear, which calmed her back down into purring again before he moved around to her stomach. “Then explore some more,” he murmured in a soft, even tone. “We want to know all her likes and dislikes, right?”
As soon as he moved too low, however, the cat struck, biting at his palm and batting at him with her paw.
He laughed and shook her off before tearing his hand away and petting her spine to make friends again. When she settled down on his lap, luxuriating in what she liked, he looked up at me with a boyish grin. “See. You learn more by actions and reactions, and I gotta tell you, Stalker, so far, your reactions are telling me that you like my intrusive presence in your life.”
“Well, I shouldn’t,” I grumbled, scowling because he was right.
“Why?” he asked. “You afraid I’m going to ignore your boundaries? I promise you, I won’t. I might push right up against that line because I want to see what the inside of your inner circle looks like, but I won’t cross it. I respect you too much for that.”
“But it makes me…uncomfortable.”
His grin turned into a smolder. “Discomfort can kind of be thrilling sometimes, though; can’t it? When you’re not quite sure what’s going to happen next. The mystery of it. The anticipation. Will you hate it? Will you love it? Will it change your entire life into something you don’t even recognize anymore? I kind of crave uncomfortable situations.”
“And yet I can’t picture you being uncomfortable in any situation at all.”
He chuckled. “Exactly. Ride the thrill, baby.”
“Yeah.” I snorted bitterly. “Until some deceptive, lying, backstabbing bitch drives you right into a brick wall that leaves you shattered and permanently scarred, unable to trust another human being again.”
“Ooh.” He winced. “Someone’s gotten burned.”
I sent him a dry glance. “You think?”
“Bound to happen, I guess.” Hissing out a long breath, he closed his eyes and rested his head back against the couch. “I like to think of those people as lessons. They teach us what’s no good for us, what we don’t like, and what we should stay away from, so when we do find someone who’s worthy enough to let in, we can appreciate them all that much more.”
When he cracked open his eyes and glanced at me as if to see whether I disagreed or not, I merely chewed on my lip thoughtfully, not speaking.
Hudson shrugged. “Of course, shaking off the pain of that lesson is easier said than done. Sometimes it takes a minute.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Or two years.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Damn, Stalker. That’s a lot of shaking.”
He was telling me.
“Must be exhausting,” he murmured sympathetically, his gaze searing into me in a way that saw more than I wanted him to. And then he shattered me with four words. “Maybe you should stop.”
I exhaled.
Because stopping would mean I’d have to start letting people in. I’d have to start opening myself up to all that risk and pain. I’d have to turn vulnerable and naive. And no way on this fucking green earth would I let myself be that stupid again.
But it might also mean I could let someone like him in. And if he turned out to be anything close to how he seemed so far, then—I felt tears rising—maybe it’d be worth it.
Hudson merely sat there patiently, watching me, as if he was waiting for me to open up my soul right then and there. And dammit, but I was tempted. I was so freaking tempted to give him everything.
But instead, I buttoned up the hatches and burrowed deeper inside myself. Scowling, I muttered, “I don’t like how perceptive you are.”
Thinking that was a hoot, he threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, you do.” Eyes glittering with triumph, he more solemnly added, “Everyone likes being understood by someone.”
I exhaled heavily because I really did like it. I just didn’t love the fact that he was always ten steps ahead of me and had a witty comeback for everything.
Except, okay, I secretly liked that too.
“So,” he started in suddenly, gripping his knees and lifting his shoulders as he heaved in a deep breath to let me know he was about to change the subject. “You mentioned something on the phone about having a cure for my…” He waved his finger around the side of his head to remind me about his headache.
“Oh!” I popped out of the chair, gasping, “I’m so sorry; I forgot about your Tylenol.” The suit and tie had thoroughly distracted me. “Let me go get some for you.”
“Actually…” He lifted his hand to stop me, then he tilted his head and furrowed his brow as if confused. “I don’t need it anymore.”
I paused, squinting curiously. “Your headache’s gone?”
“Yeah,” he answered slowly, obviously confused by that. “It really is. Huh. I guess I just needed some distance from…”
When he failed to finish the sentence, I sank back into the chair, watching him closely. “From what?”
“Hmm?” He glanced at me distractedly, only to flail out a dismissive hand. “Oh. Nothing.”
I furrowed my brow, knowing it wasn’t nothing at all. Hell, it might be the key component to everything. “Does it usually go away like that?”
“No,” he said, blinking as if still trying to figure that one out. “It doesn’t.” He lifted his attention my way and sent me a flirty grin. “I guess you have some kind of healing presence.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes.
Hudson chuckled softly before twirling his finger encouragingly. “But I still want to hear your theories.”
“Oh.” I swallowed thickly, suddenly too shy to actually share any of my crazy ideas with him. I fell further back into my chair, wondering if I could really go through with this or not. “Uh...”
The thing was… I’d come to Westport to start over, to escape everyone who thought I was a freak and a weirdo. I didn’t know if I was ready for someone in my new life to look at me that same way, especially since that person would be Hudson.
“Well, you definitely have my attention now,” he said, lifting his eyebrows with meaning as he watched the sickened worry take over my expression. “What the fuck is wrong with me, Faith?”
“Nothing!” I hastened to say, only for my shoulders to collapse. “I just…” I started to shake my head, wanting to get out of this moment more than I wanted my next breath. But Hudson was watching me steadily, and if what I feared was wrong with him was really what was wrong, then we needed to know.
“Well, there’s a couple of things it could be,” I started. “Medical maladies could be a brain tumor, fluid, concussion, infection, carbon monoxide poisoning, too many painkillers?—”
But Hudson shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a medical issue.”
I squinted. “What makes you say that?”
His gaze swirled with secrets before he lifted one shoulder and simply said, “Reasons.”
“Okay.” I cleared my throat and pushed past that bit of evasiveness. “Well, then… In that case, the, uh, the flow of, you know, energy in your body could possibly be, well, blocked.”
Hudson lifted one eyebrow. “You think my energy flow is blocked?”
I winced right back at him, countering, “Do you?”
He shook his head. “I don’t even know what the fuck that means.”
My shoulders collapsed, and I hissed out a long breath. “To be honest, I don’t either.”
He laughed. “God, Stalker. This is hilarious. Neither of us has any idea what we’re talking about right now, yet we both think it’s the root of what’s happening to me, don’t we?” When I merely winced, afraid to agree, he released a breath and nodded. “So okay, then. Let’s play. What could be blocking my energy flow?”
“Sadly, from everything I’ve read…a lot.” My expression was dismal as I started to list things off on my fingers. “A bad diet could do it. A persistent worry or fear.”
“Did you read about all this in some book you got from the shop below us?” he asked, breaking into my list.
“I got it from the campus library, actually,” I said before continuing. “You could be losing faith in yourself.”
“Meh.” He made a face and shook his head. “That doesn’t feel right. What else you got?”
“Okay.” I nodded, trying to remember it all. I started listing things off with my fingers again. “It could be a ghost possession. Or, you know, any negative emotion you’re feeling, or?—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Hudson waved his hands to interrupt. Then his eyebrows spiked. “Did you just say…ghost possession?”
“Well, it’s definitely not a demon,” I added quickly, unable to look at him now because I knew exactly what was coming next. He was going to call me crazy. “I mean, you’d be acting completely unnaturally if it was some kind of demon possessing you. You’d probably be chanting some foreign language and speaking in a voice that didn’t even belong to you while?—”
“So, you’re thinking ghost possession?” he asked, gaping at me baldly.
“Well…” I cleared my throat and stalled by scratching the back of my neck. “It’s all just speculation from people who are way out there, but uh, yeah. Some might say, well…” Wincing, I glanced at him and just said it. “If you had perchance been present when someone died, there is a theory floating around that their spirit could’ve gone into you instead of, you know, moving on to…well, wherever it was supposed to go.”
“A ghost,” he said bluntly. “You think I have a ghost possessing my body?”
“I didn’t say that’s what I thought,” I was quick to swear. “I’m just telling you everything I read. And yeah. That was one theory from a list of many, much more probable things that could be plaguing you right now. I didn’t even say whether I believed in ghosts or not.”
“Well, do you?” he asked.
I scowled back. “Do you?”
He didn’t answer, just wiped a hand over his face. “So you think I’ve had a ghost inside me for—what—ten and a half years now?”
“Wait.” I sat up in alarm. “Were you around someone when they died?”
Hudson nodded slowly. “Back when I was a kid, yeah.”
Oh shit.
Well, this changed things.