Page 38 of All the Beautiful Things

I was there because Hudson didn’t want to be alone. I hurried to his closet, rubbing my arms to warm them from the cool air. I grabbed the first sweatshirt I saw, tugged it off the hanger and threw it on over the Hawkeye shirt he let me sleep in. Goose bumps slid down my bare legs and I went to the dresser and yesterday’s clothes I left there. Thank God I wore leggings yesterday.

I tugged them on, bumping and bouncing all over the place as a muted clang and then slam came from the distance.

Of course he was working out. At five o’clock in the morning. He’d probably been up for hours, unable to sleep.

“So much help I was,” I muttered.

Dressed, I took a quick stop in the bathroom to wash up and brush my teeth before going to search for Hudson who was probably dripping in sweat and clinging to fear.

When I reached the kitchen, the coffee pot was on and full, a coffee mug sitting out next to it. I stopped long enough to pour a cup of black coffee and continued to the other side of the loft to his exercise room.

As suspected, Hudson was there, laying back on a bench, a bar of weights above him. His cheeks were flush, sweat dripped along his forehead and there was a light sheen over his chest and abs, all of which were bare.

Gracious. The man was so damn good-looking, ancient poets should have written sonnets about his body. I waited in the doorway until he was done with his set. The cherry on top of a crappy twenty-four hours would be him dropping the weight bar on his face.

As the bar clanged in its holder, Hudson turned toward me and down to grab a towel he’d thrown on the floor.

“You’re awake,” he said, but it was muffled by the towel he was scrubbing over his face. “How’d you sleep?”

“I thought I should ask you that. Up early?”

“Sleep sucked.” He tossed the towel on the floor and straddled the weight bench, hands to his knees and his chest heaving from exertion. He turned to me and flashed an impish grin. “Company was nice though.”

“I’m not sure how much help I was if you couldn’t sleep and had to come start working out in the middle of the night.”

“It’s after five.”

I arched a brow. “How long have you been in here?”

He sighed. “Point taken. And it wasn’t you. My mind wouldn’t settle. There’s so much to do. Doctor’s appointments, figuring out if he’ll need a nurse, or if I should move back home. We’ll have to go through his current projects to figure out what I can take on, what we can divvy out…”

As he rambled, staring at me but not seeing me, I moved toward him quickly until I was straddling the bench with him and facing him.

“Hey.” I placed my palm on his cheek. “You have time for that. His first appointment isn’t until next week yet.”

He brought his hand to mine and held my wrist. “It still all needs to get figured out.”

“But not in the middle of the night. And not this morning. And I’m here to help. However you need.”

His stormy eyes scanned mine and then dropped to my mouth. God. I remembered how good it felt to kiss Hudson. How warm his lips were. Even now, sweaty and unshaven, I was drawn to him. I fought a shiver that wanted to break free as his tongue appeared, swiping along his bottom lip. Like he knew what I was thinking. Remembering.

I now understood why they kept their secrets. I didn’t truly fault them for it, not really, anymore.

My stumbling block came in the form of something that hadn’t happened yet. What happened next time it was easier to hide something from me than talk to me?

What happened the next time they didn’t trust me with the truth?

I could survive it once and understand after some space, but if it happened again? I wasn’t sure I could pick myself back up after that.

Hudson’s hand fell to my thigh. He didn’t apply pressure, didn’t push that hand forward or squeeze. I still felt it like a vise had wrapped around my heart. One touch from Hudson and my pulse skittered into a tailspin.

“I really want to kiss you,” Hudson breathed. It was more of a whispered prayer or wish. He leaned in incrementally.

And oh God. I wanted that. I’d missed him. So much.

“I wasn’t in here only because of my dad, you know.”

He was closer. Still leaning in. If I didn’t move, I’d let him do whatever he wanted with me. Would that be so wrong?

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