Page 18 of What About Us
Paige glances at my short nails, covered in black gel polish. If it’s the best color, how come you never wear it?” she asks, her brows pulled down like this is the most important question ever asked. “Yours are always black.”
Hudson huffs out a laugh through his nose. There’s a giant bite of hot dog stuck in his cheek when he plops down next to me. He shoots me a sly half grin. “Yeah, Jameson, why is that?”
I swallow the food that feels like a rock in my throat and flick my glance at him in a panic. Paige’s gaze stays trained on mine, searing into my soul because clearly, I have inadvertently lied to the world’s most perceptive six-year-old, and Hudson knows I just screwed myself.
“Well…purple is the best color for six-year-olds, and…” I grab my water and take a big sip.
Paige scrunches up her face.
“Well, it’s—” I stammer.
“Finnley likes her polish black, Pipsqueak. Like her soul,” Hudson says with a laugh and takes another bite of his food.
I gasp in mock indignation, and Paige looks back and forth between the two of us, a confused crease to her brow before she giggles. Breaking off a small chunk of my hot dog bun, I chuck it at him. It hits him in the side of the head.
Paige’s mouth pops open, and her eyes go wide on her dad. He lifts his head in dramatic slow motion to look at Paige, and without even looking my way, picks up a noodle off his plate and launches it at me.
I gasp when it hits my chest and drops into my lap. A giggle escapes Paige, and she tries to stifle it with a hand. Pinching a little pickle between my finger and thumb, I move to chuck it in Hudson’s direction.
In one quick motion, his arm is around the back of my chair, and I shriek with laughter as he pins my head between his chest and bicep, until he’s got my head tipped back and he’s trying to force the pickle in my hand between my lips. Paige’s howls of laughter mix with Hudson’s maniacal cackle as I squirm and try to duck my head. But he’s aways been a scrappy asshole, and my own unhinged laughter forces my lips apart.
The pickle hits my teeth before I burst out laughing, and I quickly wrap my lips around it, so I don’t inhale the damn thing. His eyes snag on the movement. His smile fades and his grip on me tightens slightly.
His eyes linger on my mouth a little too long, my heart taking flight in my chest. My laughter dies off and silence fills the kitchen. His eyes dart to mine, and then back to the pickle sticking out of my mouth. He blinks with an almost imperceptible shake of his head and releases me before he straightens. Then, he clears his throat and raises his hands in victory, while Paige commences with whoops and cackles from her place at the table.
I spit the pickle out into my hand and swallow hard.
What the hell was that?
I flick my glance at Hudson, who clears his throat and ducks his head. He picks up his fork, only to fumble it, before picking it back up and sliding a glance my way.
“God, I think you chipped my tooth.” I swipe my tongue along my teeth, and his eyes track the movement. There’s an almost hungry glint in them.
Hudson chuckles, but it sounds forced.
“Daddy, you’re so silly!” Paige giggles.
He glances over at Paige and winks. “Ok, you animals. Let’s finish our dinner.”
Chapter 7
Hudson
I purposely make abeeline for the shower the second I enter the house after my run. I even go so far as to pretend to be on a phone call when I come in from the garage and poke my head into the living room from the kitchen. I don’t expect Finn to call me out on whateverthatwas between us in the kitchen earlier, but I can’t believe how close I was to kissing her. Again. It’s like, ever since that night at Christmas, every thought of her asjustmy best friend is…gone.
Paige is sitting crisscross on the couch, watching something on TV, her back to me. She’s alternating between blowing on her nails and waving her hands in the air to dry her fingernail polish. Finn sits next to her, curled into her usual spot, with her Kindle propped on her bare knee as she sips a glass of red wine. She’s wearing another pair of spandex shorts and the faded NYU hoodie she stole from my closet last Christmas. She looks up and smiles when she sees me.
She’s unwound her hair from her braid, and all that silky, dark hair cascades over her shoulders. I want to run my fingers through it, breathe herin, and kiss her like I imagined doing at the dinner table. With my daughter sitting two feet away.
Instead, I wave before heading upstairs.
Like a fucking coward.
I can’t seem to stop thinking about how it would feel to actually be together. As a couple. Would she come home from the B&B every night to me cooking dinner? Would she be into that? Into me?
Fuuuck.I have to stop. I can’t cross that line with Finn. This shouldn’t be so hard. Maybe it’s being in such close proximity that I can’t stop thinking about her. I have to listen to her getting into the shower each day, knowing she’s naked on the other side of the bathroom door. And then, hear her blow drying all that silky hair. It’s only because I smell her literally everywhere in this house that I can’t stop thinking about her. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.
I close myself in the small en suite and turn on the shower. Stripping out of my sweaty clothes, I climb in and let the hot water run over me. Even as I try to force my mind away from her, my traitorous cock goes hard.
