Page 30 of Promise Me

“I’m not taking your bed.”

“You’re taking my bed, or I call your brother.”

Her left brow peaks.

“You just went right for it, huh, no pity?”

“None.”

A smile touches her lips, just like earlier, so I walk away.

I typically always know what to do and say to Sadie. We have our own thing, our own version of a relationship, but smiling at each other has never been a part of it.

Which is why I wait to let myself smirk where she can’t see it.

CHAPTER NINE

SADIE

The clock next to Hudson’s bed reads four in the morning.

4:00 a.m.

Who the hell wakes up this early? Oh, that’s right. Me. I do.

I sigh and roll over, inhaling the wintergreen scent of his bedroom.

Oh, it smells so good in here.

Is it totally weird that I’m lying in Hudson’s bed?

Why yes, yes, it is.

Do I still prefer being here over being at home?

Why yes, yes, I do.

Last night, after Hudson changed the sheets and told me the bed was ready when I wanted it, we sat in his living room together in complete silence since I wasn’t ready for bed yet. I got up a few times, looking at the pictures and knickknacks on his shelves. I opened the cabinets in his kitchen until I found a plate and made my own serving of spaghetti. I even grabbed a bag of baked chips from his snack drawer and ate half the bag while reading one of the thriller books from his mini bookshelf.

And guess what? Aside from a curious look here and there as he watched me, he said not one word to me.

It was the perfect night.

The only part that would have made the night better would have been if he hadn’t put a shirt on when he was changing the sheets.

I haven’t seen Hudson shirtless since we were teenagers, and even though it’s a given at this point, holy hell, is he all man now.

All rippled abs and solid muscle.

The way his gym shorts hung loose on his hips is forever posted to my brain.

It’s clear we still hate each other, but wow, he sure is nice to look at.

Quietly, I get out of bed, slip on my shoes, and open his bedroom door.

I spot his feet hanging over the edge of the couch. A small piece of me feels bad because he clearly can’t be sleeping well on that thing, but it was his choice.

I tiptoe into the kitchen and open the fridge. The light comes out brightly, so I press my body against it as a shield and glance over my shoulder.

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