Page 9 of Engaging with Her Enemy

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Becky threw her shirt across the room. It landed on top of the pile of discarded clothes. Amazing. She drove to Valdosta or Tallahassee, even Atlanta, every chance she had to shop somewhere other than Walmart like the rest of town, and now she found nothing to wear.

Because she’d see Hudson.

She shouldn't care. She ran a hand through her hair, glad the trembling had stopped. Seeing his leg had messed her up. So much so that her accounting professor had called her up after class to ask if she was alright. No. She wasn't alright, damn it.

Because it wasn't merely his leg that affected her. Nothing with Hudson was simple anymore.

Hudson and all his manliness screwed with her head. She wanted him.

Likereallywanted him.

But her wants would have to go somewhere else and hide. She couldn’t be with someone she didn’t trust.

“Becky?” Eliza pushed the door fully open. “Are you ready?” She hesitated and then grinned. “Well, that's one way to get Hudson's attention.”

Becky put her hands on her hips, wearing only her bra. “I don't care about getting his attention.” And that was a big, fat lie.

Eliza made a little noise that sounded like a teacher when they don't believe the student before walking over to the pile in the corner. She began to straighten up the clothing. “I'm jealous of all these. Oh,” she said, holding up a vibrant, purple sweater. “Definitely wear this. With your blue eyes, Hudson, I mean, any man there, won't be able to take his eyes off you.” She scrunched up her nose. “Well, I don't know if Cameron will check you out.”

“I hope not.”

“And I think you'd kill Dewey within ten seconds of a relationship.”

Becky giggled at her friend's concerned expression. “Absolutely. And Nash is taken.”

Eliza sighed. “I'm afraid that does leave Hudson.”

Swiping the sweater from Eliza, Becky reached for her camisole. Eliza's hand landed on top of hers.

“We're going to Rhonda's, not church, and you're not waiting tables and bending over. You can handle a little cleavage.”

“For my non-interest in the one available man there?” Becky raised her eyebrows. “Or is it for the bikers that hang out at the bar?”

“Either. Nothing is wrong with bikers. Most of them are very nice. Besides, you'll feel better if you know you look hot. Think of it as a confidence booster.”

Becky released the tank top. “That should be your personal motto. Charm them with your assets. I've seen you play pool. Those men can't think straight when you lean over the table. Including the bikers.”

Eliza rolled her eyes. “My assets are significantly less than yours. After breastfeeding Carrie, mine aren't even close to being in the same position.”

“Fine. Slutty purple sweater it is.”

“Good. I'm going to go get in the car.” She left, obviously expecting the issue to be resolved.

Becky slipped on the soft sweater. It did offset her light blue eyes. She shouldn't care about Hudson or what he thought. Her priorities needed to stay focused on finishing college. At night. Without anyone else in the town finding out.

Because what if she failed?

Right now, she was on the edge of failing her accounting class anyway. Nothing the professor said made any sense. Her brain flipped numbers around when she read them. Instead of fifty-four, it was forty-five. And sometimes, no matter how many times she read it, she never caught the mistake. And goodness knows, don't get her to try and comprehend a word problem. All the circling and underlining in the world didn't help.

Hudson once told her that she must put all her focus into baking and only had a little left for school and numbers because her cookies were terrific. The skinny, geeky guy had won her trust with that simple statement. His unwavering belief that she wasn't stupid. That she had talent.

He was the only one who'd supported her in high school.

And then he’d destroyed her with his dumb joke.

She should really let it go. They were only eighteen, after all. But that didn't mean she'd make the same mistake and confide in him again.

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