Page 20 of Fragile Heart

CHAPTER8

Quinn

Is that knocking?Grabbing my phone, I see it’s only eight in the morning. Who would be knocking on my door this early? I stumble out of bed, quickly rubbing my hands over my face and twisting my hair up into a bun. With a yawn, I make the short walk to the front door.

“Um, good morning?” My greeting comes out as more of a question than a statement, wondering why Hudson is knocking on my door at all but more specifically right now.

“Hey,” Hudson says casually, like it’s totally normal for him to be here. He looks me over before saying, “Did I wake you up?”

I shake my head. “No, I was awake, just lying in bed,” I lie. We stand for a beat too long waiting for the other to speak first. I finally give in. “Do you want to come in?”

“Sure.” He walks past me, still not bothering to tell me why he’s here. I look out the door to see if there’s a car out front but don’t see one. I didn’t notice one in the driveway of his rental house when I took him home yesterday morning, either. I can only assume he walked here from his house, which we discovered yesterday is only a few blocks from my apartment.

“Did you find my wallet here by chance?” he asks after I shut the door. My eyes widen. Oh, God. Does he think I stole his wallet? I would never do that, but he doesn’t really know me.

“Oh, no. I didn’t see anything, but let me look.” I walk off to my bedroom and frantically search for it, pulling back the sheets and looking under the bed.

“It’s fine if it’s not here, Quinn. I may have left it at the bar or something. I just figured I’d check here first.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think to check the bar before we brought you here. I thought you had everything.” Tears build in my eyes, and I try my best to blink them away. I feel terrible that he lost his wallet. I should’ve checked around the bar before we left.

He grabs my arm. “Hey, it’s ok. It’s not your fault I was an idiot. Don’t worry about it.”

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. I don’t know if it’s because I just woke up and I’m overwhelmed or because Hudson Porter is standing in my bedroom with his hand wrapped around my arm.

“I also came here because I wanted to apologize again for my behavior. I haven’t done that in a long time. I’ve already called my sponsor and talked to him about it, and I’m going to get my shit together again. I made a stupid decision, and I regret it, but thank you for helping me out when I clearly needed it.”

Sponsor.Does that mean Hudson is an alcoholic? Something must have triggered him to drink again. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask, but it’s none of my business. He didn’t need to come here, but he did. And that means a lot.

“You’re welcome.” He nods at my acknowledgment and releases his grip on my arm.

“I know other people saw me last night, but I’m hoping we can use discretion if the topic comes up.” He’s asking me to keep my mouth shut. I get it. If I was in his situation, I wouldn’t want everyone in my business either. And besides Holly and Jake, who, of course, called and texted me the morning after, no one has said a word about it to me.

“I understand.” He exhales, and I watch as his broad shoulders physically relax. I point my thumb over my shoulder. “I, uh, was going to make some pancakes. Do you want some?”

He thinks about it before saying, “Yeah, that’d be great.”

I turn and walk out of my tiny bedroom, and Hudson follows. He stops in the living room while I continue to the kitchen to make the pancake mix.

While I’m stirring the mixture, Hudson pops in the kitchen with a picture frame.

“Is this your boyfriend?” he asks, looking at the picture of me with my cheek pressed up against a man’s face.

“No,” I snap, a little harsher than I mean to. My attention goes back to the mixing bowl, hoping that Hudson doesn’t make a big deal about it. I keep the picture out so I won’t ever forget him, but I’m not sure I want to talk about him with a man who has made it clear he doesn’t like me all that much.

Thankfully, Hudson returns the picture to the bookshelf without any more questions. I guess someone used to having his private life dissected can tell when a subject should be dropped.

He comes back to the kitchen empty-handed. “So, I take it you’re a fan of theChampions of Olympiaseries?”

Ah, yes. He must have seen my collection of the books on my bookshelf. I have the original set and the special edition anniversary set.

I look over to see if he’s weirded out that I’m a fan, but if anything, he looks amused. “Yeah. The books were amazing. The movies were really good, too.” I add the last part so he doesn’t think I hated the movies. I’m one of those people who almost always think the book is better than the movie, but in this case, I loved them both equally. In fact, I rewatch the movies more than I reread the books.

“Just really good? Should I be offended?” He smiles. Like actually smiles.At me.And I’m pretty sure my heart skips a beat. Stupid heart.

I stop myself from gaping at how attractive he is. I have to remind myself that he’s a regular person, not just a celebrity.

“You should definitely not be offended. They’re my favorite movies. I rewatch them all the time.”

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