Page 10 of What About Us
“I’m not, though. She needs a mother.”
“Listen, I know you loved Tristen. I do. And forgive me if this hurts you, but she’s never been much of a mother to that little girl.”
He sighs and nods. “Nope. And logically, I know Paige’s better off without the disappointment of that, but I just don’t know how to be everything for her.”
“Hey,” I say, and I tilt my head up to look at him. “That little girl adores you.”
“I know.” He swallows like the words cause him physical pain, and he goes back to looking up into the darkness. “I know she does. I just wish her mom could see how amazing she is.”
I nudge him with my body lightly. “I know I don’t have the best role model, but you’re an amazing dad, Huddy. The best I know. And Paige has other people in her life that know how amazing she is. Me, your parents, and her aunts and uncles. She’s going to be fine.”
“Thanks, Jameson.” He lifts his arm and pulls me to his side, planting a kiss on the top of my head. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
Butterflies take flight in my stomach when my hand finds the bare skin of his torso, and it’s such a strange feeling. It’s been happening a lot lately. More than I care to admit. I can’t be having feelings for my best friend. I’dchalk it up to the emotional couple of days we’ve had, but that would be a lie.
Lately, whenever I see his name light up my phone, or when he cracks a joke laced with just the slightest bit of innuendo, it feels different. I could seriously hurt Wrenley for putting the idea of us being together in my mind. I’m kidding. Sort of.
When she found out Hudson and I were thinking of opening a B&B together, she asked if there was something more between us. There wasn’t—there isn’t—but now, the little touches that seemed so innocent before feel weighted somehow. I wonder if he can feel it, too.
I close my eyes against the wave of longing and confusion I feel. We’ve only ever been friends. He’s my rock and I’m his. Especially since we’re both divorced. I don’t know how many times I cried to him over Jeff, and how many times he reassured me that I was going to be happy again one day. And now, I am. I’ve healed and I’ve moved on from my broken marriage.
And now, he’s hurting. Not for his marriage; I know he’s over Tristen. But he’s hurting for Paige, and that’s something I can’t fully understand, having never been a parent.
I’ve been trying to tell myself that being this close to him, being all domestic and shit, is just a side effect of the emotional turmoil of the last few days. It has to be. Sure, post-divorce, things are different. We talk on the phone every day and text throughout. All we’ve ever been is friends, but I can't deny that it feels really good being in his arms. And that worries me. He’s all I have. So, we can never be more.
“We should probably try to get some sleep,” I say, but neither of us makes a move to stand up. When he doesn’t answer, I lift my head from his shoulder to look at him.
His eyes take a slow path over my body, his gaze heavy on me like a physical presence. It’s not sexual. It just…is.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“Am I failing her?” he asks, looking at me. “Paige, I mean. I feel like such a failure,” he whispers.
“You’re not a failure. This all would have happened either way. You can’t blame yourself.” I reach up to brush a piece of hair from his forehead. “You’re doing the best you can.”
“Maybe my best isn’t good enough,” he murmurs. “What if something happens again, and I can’t fix it?”
I give his side a little squeeze. This isn’t like Hudson. He’s normally so confident, so self-assured. He must really be worried.
“She’s ok. You’re both going to be fine.”
“It’s just that she has struggled so much since we came back from Timber Forge. I just got her sleeping through the night again, and now this happens. It feels like I’m drowning.”
“You’re not,” I say, resolutely. Shifting, I reach up to take both of his cheeks in my hands and add, “I won’t let you. Ok?”
His eyes search mine and I feel his hand fist the back of my shirt before he nods. “Ok.”
His gaze is so intent on mine, it makes me feel dizzy, exposed. I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him to me, still sitting next to him. “You’re exhausted,” I say, pressing my cheek against his shoulder. “You should try to get some sleep.”
I feel him nod, but he doesn’t move. So, I pull back to look at him. He lifts a hand and tucks my hair behind my ear. His eyes dance between mine before dropping to my mouth. Seconds tick by. Then, he’s pulling me across his body to straddle his lap.
I should stop him. I should stop this before we both do something we’ll regret, but I can’t. I want to be close to him. I shouldn’t, but I do.
The thin cotton of my raggedy old sweatpants does nothing to create a barrier between me and the warmth of his lap. His hand on the small of myback feels so right, but it’s when I feel him hardening underneath me that my breath catches, and my gaze snaps to his.
He cups my head in both hands and brings our foreheads together, so we’re breathing each other in. And that’s when I start to panic.
“Huddy—”
