Page 117 of Force a Date

“They told you.”

Hudson’s greens rise back up to mine and he contemplates my words before cocking his head to the side. “Were they not supposed to?”

Fuck.

I guess common sense isn’t so common because I believed that Miles was going to keep his mouth shut. Especially when I said I was keeping it small and very intimate. Meaning just Mia, me, and a few people we talk to.

“I was coming to tell you tomorrow,” I claim honestly. “Everything happened so fast.”

“Everything seems to be with you, doesn’t it?”

I don’t know if that was meant to be an insult or jab, but I ignore it. “I appreciate…everything you’ve done for me. For giving me the job and?—”

“It was to get you to shut up,” he imparts, still staring at me as if gluing me to memory. “You wouldn’t stop.”

“I needed the job.”

“I saw that.”

I couldn’t pry my focus off him if I tried right now.

Every emotion comes back in full force and makes my stomach twist with emptiness.

Each brush of his lips on my body.

His fingertips brushing my skin and the dirty words he’d whisper in my ear as he began kissing the nape of my neck. The way he’s looking down at me makes it feel as if he’s doing all of it at once right now.

But Hudson hasn’t moved.

And if there were one thing I was going to miss in this town, it’d be him. Nonetheless, he doesn’t want kids—I can’t blame him. I came with something that he was supposed to have, too. Something he deserved to have because Hudson would’ve been one hell of a father to that baby.

“You’re movin’ to California.” It’s not a question, but a validation of the ways I’m moving right now.

In a perfect world, I’d convince him with another agreement to come with me. I’d spend years being his lunch and coffee bitch just to know that he was within eyesight at any time.

“Not for the reason I’m sure you’re thinking,” I offer, waiting for a glare, a scowl, or anything that might protrude from how he’s feeling right now.

With his placid expression, I can’t read anything.

And I hate it.

“And what reason would that be?” he presses back and I realize that he hasn’t released my fingers yet.

“Rory’s father. I’m not moving to L.A. but Eureka. I got a food truck job there and…I wanted to get away from my mom.”

Hudson gapes at me placidly for a second before giving me an acknowledged nod. “Makes sense.”

“Does it, though?”

Hudson doesn’t respond, so I just outpour everything since I won’t need to make that trip to the shop tomorrow.

“You would’ve kept me here, but I understand what I did and what that meant to you. I just wish…you didn’t have to go through what you did, so that maybe…it wouldn’t have been as hard. I feel as though having to look at someone else’s daughter might bring up memories of your own. Of what you were supposed to have. And I’m sorry that you don’t have it. I can’t imagine?—”

“It’s forgotten, Opie,” he tells me, sounding sincere as hell about it but my brain can’t register that we’d come to peace this quick.

Especially not after I planned a move across the country and now he’s forgiven me.

“What does that mean?” I ask. “You’re not mad at me anymore?”

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