Page 27 of What About Us
Huddy:That’d be great.
Finnley: You bet.
I still have to clean up breakfast, and though no one asked for their rooms to be serviced while they’re out for the day, I still have my other daily tasks to complete. I haven’t been out to the garden in a couple of days. So, there are definitely weeds that need pulled.
I slide my phone into my back pocket and head back into the dining room to make sure the guests have everything they need.
Chapter 10
Hudson
I just dropped Paigeoff at the tiny community center for her first day of summer camp. After waving goodbye and watching her walk through the doors, I walk across the parking lot and attempt to get my head in the game before going to Hutch’s for the day.
I’ve been on edge since last night in Finn’s room. It’s not like we’ve never shared a bed before, but it’s different now. My feelings for her are most definitely not of the friendly variety anymore. The longer I laid there with my best friend pressed against me, the more my mind wandered to what it would be like to have that every night. It was torture keeping my hands to myself, when all I really wanted to do was turn toward her and bury my face in her hair. Or between her thighs.
My arm started falling asleep, so I shifted. Instead of moving away from me, she moved her head farther down my chest and let out a little contented sigh. When I gave her a little shake to wake her, she just mumbled something incoherent and threw her leg over mine. Trapped under her tight, little body, I’d resigned myself to a night of torture and wrapped my arm around her. Turns out, it wasn’t torture.
The morning wood I woke up with made it painfully clear that I am royally fucked. When I cracked open my eyes, she was laying with her back to me. Her thick curtain of hair was in my face, and her ass and back were pressed firmly against the front of me. I deserve a fucking medal for the restraint I showed, because it took everything in me to not rub my cock against her ass.
I totally lied to her this morning when she questioned me in the kitchen. Ok, well, not totally. I do miss my bar, and I do feel unsettled. And even though I know I’ll stay busy helping Hank and Hutch, it’s not forme. I feel a sense of peace helping my family, but I can’t do that forever. Eventually, I have to find something that will fulfill me again. I absolutely don’t want to fall back into old habits and lose precious time with Paige though. So, whatever I decide, I’ll have to work hard to find a good balance.
The real reason I’m out of sorts is Finn. I can’t stop thinking about her. I swear there is something going on with her medically, and I’m worried she isn’t taking care of herself. She thinks she’s slick, covering her dizzy spells and losing her balance as one-offs, but we’ve known each other half our lives and she isn’t fooling me.
Just as I’m about to climb into the cab of my truck, a female voice grabs my attention from across the lot. It’s been years since I’ve spoken to her, but the intonation of her voice is unmistakable.
Erin Parker and I started hanging out in seventh grade, and by high school, she was calling herself my girlfriend. No matter how much I tried to tell her I just wanted to be friends, she did not get the memo. She wasn’t psycho or anything, just really fucking clingy. She was pretty enough and fun, but she was always touching me, sitting too close, needing to have her leg pressed against mine, or hugging me for being such a good friend. At thirteen—hell, at seventeen—it was a bit much.
Our junior year, she was so jealous when I was paired up with Finn as lab partners. She brought me a cookie every single day for six months andwould make a big show of it in front of Finn. Little did she know that Finn couldn’t have cared less who paid attention to me. It was ironic, really. Erin tried to make Finn jealous, when I was the one who was secretly pining for my best friend.
Erin waves aggressively, calling out my name from across the blacktop lot. I quickly duck into the cab of my truck, pretending I don’t hear her, then slam the door and crank the engine. In my peripheral vision, I see her pick up the pace, andfuck me,she’s fast. I’ll most definitely run into her at some point because Timber Forge is absolutelythatsmall town. However, after the night I had—envisioning rolling my best friend over, spreading her legs, and burying my face in her cunt—a run-in with Erin Parker is not on my bingo card for today.
I quickly throw my truck into drive and try not to burn rubber when I haul ass out of the parking lot toward my brother’s place.
It’s not a long drive, and after stopping for coffee, I’m soon pulling down the private dirt road that leads to my brother’s property. Lined with towering pine trees, its secluded, and I’ve joked more times than I can count about how people probably think he’s a serial killer and this place is where he brings his victims. Of course, it’s not true, and nine times out of ten, he manages to make a joke about his dick needing space to spread out.
Dumbass.
It’s strange, because it’s not that far from town—maybe fifteen minutes—but it absolutely feels like another world out here. From the road, all anyone can see are trees, but through an “s” curve at the very end, there’s a break in the trees to turn off. The private road—which Hutch keeps gated and locked when not in use—leads around the back side of his property and comes out on the west side of a small lake.
When I roll to a stop next to a vehicle I don’t recognize, Hutch’s golden retriever, Oakley, comes barreling for my truck. I kill the engine and step out, giving him belly rubs when he drops and rolls over to his back.
“Where’s the coffee?” Hutch calls, emerging from the inside of his “house.”
I use that term really fucking lightly because his house is currently a bright orange 1980 Westfalia Camper van. Even though it’s completely restored, it’s still a fucking van. He literally lives like he’s camping every day. No idea how that shit is comfortable at six foot six, but he’s modified the bed, and he makes it work.
“In the truck, asshole,” I say and drop my attention back down to Oakley, who is currently pawing at my pant leg for more attention.
I glance up at my younger brother, who stands there, chest bare, in lace-up work boots and jeans with the zipper hanging open. A gangly brunette stumbles down from the van, her hair disheveled. She stops short when she sees me, her eyes flicking from mine to Hutch’s, then grins before wrapping an arm around his neck.
“Thanks for the fun, big guy.” She plants a kiss on his cheek, and he squeezes a handful of her plump ass in a pink dress that barely covers her cheeks.
“You, too…” he trails off and tips his head, eyes squinting in thought.
I shake my head because, of course, he doesn’t remember her name. I don’t know where he finds these chicks.
“Anna,” she supplies with a titter of high-pitched laughter, completely unfazed by the fact that he couldn’t conjure up her name if he had a gun to his head.
“You, too,Anna.” He shoots her a wink. Eyes on her ass, he watches her walk past me, before she climbs in her car and drives away.
