Page 98 of Here's to Tomorrow

There is a small part of me that is thrilled to go to the beach because it means a weekend away from this town. There’s also a tiny part of me that realizes how major it is that I’m willing to face this for Hudson, on my birthday of all days. There’s ahugepart of me that’s fucking scared—with good reason—as all get out.

“Hey,” Hudson says, walking over and cupping my face in his hands. “We don’t have to. You just talked so fondly of the water before and I know how much you love Lake Q. I thought it would be nice to have a little mini vacay for your birthday. We won’t be swimming or anything because it’ll be mid-October and probably too cold, but at least we’ll be going somewhere and it will only cost us gas. I have full access to my grandparents’ old beach house. The new owners are awesome about letting us use it.”

I grab his hands and pull them from my face. “I know. I was just worried about getting off work for a second but then remembered Clyde still owes me for working my birthday last year,” I lie.

I don’t know why I lie…or maybe I do.

I’m not ready to tell Hudson yet. I should be, but I’m not. I need to mentally prepare myself for all of that and right now, that’s not happening.

He stares at me—hard—for a second and I hold my breath, worried he’s going to see through my bullshit. He either does and lets it go or doesn’t and moves on. Either is fine by me at this point.

“Okay. Two weeks. Your birthday. Talk with your boss. We can go up on Saturday morning and come back Sunday night.”

I fake a smile and give him a thumbs-up.

He gives me a real smile and my heart starts to hurt, because this issonot going to end well.

“Well, as delicious as the coffee and cereal was—which you’re welcome for because obviously my culinary skills are impeccable—I need to hit the shop,” he announces.

“So eager to get rid of me,” I tease, giving him a flirty smile.

He smirks, and I just know something dirty is about to leave his mouth. “I’d love nothing more than to bend you over that stool you’re sitting on, and I’m probably going to be sporting a semi all day just thinking about the fact that you’re not wearing any panties right now, but I gotta run.”

I laugh.So much for him being a gentleman.

* * *

“Perry!” I shout as my cousin plunks down on a stool at Clyde’s.

“Well, if it isn’t my ex-girlfriend. How are you, sugar? Ready for another round?” He waggles his brows at me.

I called him first thing in the morning the night after I met Joey—even before I called Maura, but we vowed to never tell her that—so I could tell him what Hudson thought we were to each other. Now he won’t stop making fun of Hudson.

“Ew!” I shiver to drive my point home. “Knock that shit off. It gives me the creeps.”

“But it’s still funny as fuck. I cannot believe he actually thought that,” Perry says,stilllaughing about it.

“True.” I lean against the bar, resting my head on my hands. “So, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out, I don’t know, looking for a job or something?”

“Hey! I’m getting close! Maybe. Why don’tyouhave an interview yet?”

“Jerk.”

Though I still haven’t had a single firm call me back since my phone interview, I’m not as upset as I feel I should be, and I have Hudson to thank for that. He’s managed to make me see Wakefield in a whole new light, making me not want to leave as much now.

“Why are you smiling?” Perry asks. He leans in across the bar. “Did you forget to take your crazy pills again this morning, Rae? Tsk, tsk,” he mock-whispers.

“Ohmygod! Go bug someone else,” I yell, attempting to swat him with my wipe-down rag.

He jumps down from the stool, his hands raised in the air. “I’m going, I’m going. Love you, crazy!” he shouts, turning away and heading back to his friend Colt, who is laughing at his antics.

I roll my eyes at them, knowing Perry will be getting a taste of karma momentarily, because Clarissa is their waitress today.

“Yo! How you doin’, girl?” Benny calls out, walking behind the bar and getting to work.

“Hey! What up, Big Ben?” I say, giving him a high-five and returning to the task at hand: pouring beers.

We automatically fall into a pattern, working around one another for an hour or more.

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