Page 85 of Roughing It

Grasping the distraction Hudson tossed my way, I ask, “I am?”

“Yep. Gotta make sure you learn as many skills as possible before you,” he pauses, a series of emotions flickering over his face, “leave.”

Frustration. Sadness. Wanting. I know because they’re mirrored on my own.

Kirk studies me through the camera. “BB?”

Forcing a smile, I chirp. “Yeah, sorry. I’m so jealous of you and Marcus. Have fun!” With a wave and an air kiss, I end the call.

The shift in the mood is noticeable. Hudson stares up at the ceiling, his brows knitted together, lost in thought. My throat stings. I need to touch him. Scooting closer, I rest my cheek on his chest, tracing the veins in his forearm. A rumbly sigh reverberates beneath my ear, and I smile. I love how Hudson reacts to my touch—even from glancing grazes like walking my fingers over his skin.

And it’s the same for me. The heat of those pine-green eyes sends shivers down my spine, increases my heart rate, and makes me wet. I wonder, not for the first time, how someone I’ve known for sixteen days—and liked for less—can make me feel this way. My stomach aches at the idea of going back to Austin. I don’t want to think about the car coming for me in two weeks. About the choices I have to make. About what I’ll be giving up.

Instead, I turn my face into Hudson’s broad chest, inhaling his earthy scent and pretending I don’t have any worries. “So, shooting a bow, huh?”

“Yep.” His heavy hand settles on my head, stroking my hair.

“Not at anything, though, right?”

“Stationary targets.”

“I think I can handle that.”

We linger a little longer before Hudson gently shifts me and gets off the bed. “We leave in ten.”

On my side of the cabin, or at least where all my clothes, shoes, and assorted bric-à-brac lie, I search for something to wear. But my mind wanders, and I call to Hudson. “What’s Trail Creek like?”

He pokes his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth. “Huh?”

“Trail Creek. How big is it?”

“Um, around nineteen hundred people live here year round.”

So around the same size as Hawthorn. I scowl at my clothes as if they’ve offended me.

“But it triples in the winter and summer thanks to vacationers. Why?” Hudson leans against the door, the toothbrush gone.

“Just curious.” I slip a sweatshirt over my head and attempt to pad past him. He stops me, his thumb brushing my cheek.

“What’s in your head?”

“Thinking of all the arrows I’m going to let fly,” I lie. I’m not about to tell him the thought of living in a town this small freaks me the fuck out or that I asked because, for a second there, I let myself pretend I could stay.

I shake my head and smile. Now’s not the time. I offer him my hand. “Ready?”

He studies me, nods, and laces our fingers together.

Pushing all thoughts of leaving and Austin out of my head, I let Hudson lead me on today’s adventure.

“Hey there, BBs! Can you believe my adventure in Trail Creek is halfway over? It’s day sixteen, which means Hudson and I are down to two weeks together. We’ve seen your questions about what we have planned for after, but we aren’t ready to share yet.”

Hudson grunts from off-camera, and I glance at him. I know how much he dislikes the “Blakely Show” despite agreeing to be a part of it. The more time I spend with him, the more my social media persona feels like the mask he accused me of hiding behind. A mask that stifles and suffocates me more each day.

While I wasn’t exactly happy before Hudson, at least the job was simple. Giggle, be quippy, say something outrageous. Now, it feels like work, like precious moments away from getting to know him, being with him. Like the thing that’s going to take me away from him.

I remember how belligerent and defiant I’d been when he first called me out about my behavior on camera. How I’d claimed there was no difference in my off-screen and on-screen personalities. But in my heart, I knew he was right all along.

The reflection I saw in the mirror today wasn’t one I hated even as I examined each tiny wrinkle around my eyes and scrutinized my untamed waves. Could I be this person always? This woman who wears makeup when and because she wants to, doesn’t care if her hair is perfectly smooth, isn’t afraid of whateveryone else thinks. Is there room for Blake Lee Shaw in Blakely Bradshaw’s world?

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