I watch her retreat into the hallway, and as she goes, my insides tug. It’s like a part of me is going with her. And I don’t want her to leave. Not today. Not next week. Not after the reopening. Forget about good or bad timing. I need her to know how I feel.
“Hey, Liv!” I hop up and rush out to the lobby. “Hold on.”
She’s almost to the door, and she turns to face me. “What?”
“I think we need to talk.”
She keeps backing up slowly. “Actually, we don’t."
“Okay. Fair enough.” I splay my hands, continuing toward her. “If we’re going by exact words, we don’t need to talk. But I want to talk to you.”
She pushes backwards out the door, and I follow her onto the porch. “Not now.” She takes a beat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Not right after we … after we …” Her voice trails off.
“Woke up in bed together?”
She glances around the empty porch. “Let’s not say that in front of anyone else, okay? They’ll get the wrong idea.”
“What idea do you want me to get?”
She draws in a long breath, then exhales a slow stream of air. “Listen, Hudson. I like you. A lot. I like you so much, I brushed my teeth three times this morning before I came down to the office because I didn’t want my breath to be bad.” She tugs at the two sides of her bathrobe, pulling them tighter around her middle. “But that doesn’t mean anything can happen between us. I never meant for anything to happen. And I think you know that.”
“Liv.” I glance down at my socks slipping down her calves now, pooling at her ankles. She’s so vulnerable and determined to protect herself. She’s got her own safety net for her heart. “I don’t want you to go.”
“But I feel like I’ve been wearing this bathing suit forever,” she says. “I need to go home—back to Big Mama’s—and take a hot shower and get my mind around what’s happening this week.”
“That’s not what I meant.” I run both hands through my hair, then drop my arms at my side. “I’m good with you going back to your grandmother’s house right now. I told you to take the day off and rest.” Our eyes are pinned together. “But I don’t want you to leave Abieville. I want you to stay after the reopening.”
She drops her chin, staring at her socked feet. “Hudson."
“I know saying that out loud is selfish, and I’ll understand if you can’t stay, but I just had to make sure you knew how I felt. Before.”
“Okay,” she breathes out. Then she lifts her face again. “Actually, it’s not okay. In fact, it’s kind of terrible, because now I’m questioning everything. And I liked the answers I already had.”
I hedge my shoulders. “You don’t have anywhere else to go yet. So what’s the big rush?”
“That’s the thing.” She bobs her head. “I do have options. My old roommate—Sutton—she says my room’s available again. Naomi—she’s my other roommate—she broke up with her boyfriend, and he moved out. Which is bad news for Naomi, I guess. But it’s potentially good news for me. Because I still have a place to live back in Colorado if I go back.”
“You’d go back without a job lined up? That’s kind of risky, isn’t it?”
She swallows hard. “Yes.”
“Yes, you’ll go back? Or yes, it’s risky?” As soon as I hear the words come out, I slam my mouth shut. I’m not frustrated with Olivia. I’m mad at myself. Instead of telling her how I feel so she can decide what to do with the information, I’m trying to convince her. Making arguments when she should make up her own mind.
“I’ll find something,” Olivia says, with a small hitch of her shoulders. “Maybe not the dream position I was hoping for, but even if I have to start at the bottom somewhere new, I can work my way up. I did it before at Luxe. I can do it again. Probably.” Her chin shifts now. “Maybe. Hopefully.”
“What if I told you I like you too? A lot. So much I don’t even care if you ever brushed your teeth again?”
She treats me to a long, low groan. Not the reaction I was hoping for.
“Sorry.” I throw a hand up, like I’m erasing my comment. “Forget I said anything.”
“But I can’t forget.” She sighs. “And now the whole time Hadley and Link are here, I’m going to be thinking about you instead of being a good hostess. I used to be the best hostess, Hudson. And you are ruining my best-hosting abilities. You and your piney smell and your strong arms and your”—she waves at the top of my head—“your messy bed hair. You’re so piney and strong and messy, I can’t think straight anymore. But I’m telling you right now, Hudson Blaine …” She stomps her foot, but since it’s just in a sock it comes out like a soft little pad.
“Telling me what?” I take another small step toward her.
“STOP BEING SO MESSY SO I CAN THINK STRAIGHT!”
I fold my arms across my chest. “All right, Olivia McCoy. I’m not ready to be done with this conversation, but I guess we can put a pin in it for now.”