Page 62 of The One I Stood Beside

Jude unbuttons the top two buttons on his shirt and untucks it from his pants, sitting down next to me, putting his feet up on the coffee table. “Me too.”

Although I enjoyed pretending to be Jude’s bride, my mom’s words before I walked down the aisle stayed on my mind for most of the night.

“Hey,” I say, tucking my legs under my body and facing him.

His head is leaned back on the sofa, and his eyes are closed. “Hmm?”

“My mom said something to me right before I walked down the aisle.”

“’Kay?”

“She said three years ago, my dad gave you my hand in marriage.”

His eyes open slowly, but he doesn’t look at me.

“Do you know anything about that?”

Turning his head to face me, his expression says that he knows exactly what my mom meant. “It’s nothing.”

“Jude…”

He turns his gaze back to the ceiling. “Let’s just go to bed.”

“Neither of us is going to bed until you tell me the secret you’ve been keeping from me.”

He groans and stands, heading into the kitchen. After grabbing water from the fridge, he stays in there, leaning over his island counter. “It’s nothing to be concerned about.”

I meet him in the kitchen and sit on one of the stools. “That’s for me to decide.”

He tips back the water bottle and finishes almost half of it.

When he doesn’t say anything, I sigh. “Okay, I’ll start. Three years ago, you fell off Titan, right?”

His fingers twist the cap back onto the bottle. “I did.”

“And…” This is one thing about Jude. I have to pull information and emotions out of him.

“And I was in the hospital.”

I throw my hands in the air. “Seriously, just tell me.”

He leaves the kitchen, walking past the island. “You don’t need to know. Go to bed, Sadie.”

I hear his footsteps go up the stairs. We decided I’d spend the night in the spare room to keep up appearances that we’re in love with one another. His bedroom door shuts a few seconds later.

If he thinks I’m not getting this information now after he’s being so cagey, he’s delusional.

I lift the hem of my dress, following him up the stairs. I don’t bother knocking. Instead, I open the door of his bedroom.

“Fuck, Sadie.” He already has his shirt unbuttoned, showing the six-pack I already knew was hidden underneath. His hands move to his pants, buttoning them back up.

“Tell me,” I say, crossing my arms.

“Go to bed.”

“Are you going to tell me in the morning?”

“Probably not.” He walks into the bathroom, pulls out his toothbrush, and puts toothpaste on it.

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