Page 76 of Mr. Big Shot

“Maybe not to you…”

She murmurs the words toward her window, and I realize I’m really the lowest of the low in her book. This mess has gotten too out of hand. I want to apologize to her again about Saturday, but I know it won’t go over well.

If I could go back in time…

No. That hypothetical game won’t work, and it doesn’t matter. Even if I rewound to before last Saturday, even if I never showed up at her apartment, never kissed her, never gave in to my desire—I’d still be in this mess, trying to navigate this complicated relationship.

“I’ll text her when I get home and tell her we’re just friends,” I promise solemnly.

Scarlett’s shoulders sag. “Thank you,” she says with a small voice.

Very few people have the ability to burrow deep down inside me, but Scarlett is one of them. All I want to do is make her happy, and I’ve yet to figure out exactly how to do that.

“For the record, Scarlett—”

“Don’t.”

I have to. I can’t sleep knowing she might have the wrong idea about our situation.

“I was the only person in the wrong last weekend,” I trudge on resolutely. “I should have never put you in that position.”

“Pull over.”

I can’t. I’m on the highway.

“Scarlett.”

“Just forget about it, Hudson!” she explodes. “I’m not dumb. I know why you feel weird about everything that happened. I know you’re worried about the implications of us sleeping together, and in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve backed off, haven’t I? I’ve given you space. No more working out. No more strange little friendship.”

What do I say to that?

Was there ever a world in which Scarlett and I slept together and then continued on with our normal lives? Because I can’t even imagine it. Saturday night was too important. Having her for that brief moment—it upended everything.

I’m so angry at myself for letting things get to this point with Scarlett. I went into that night with a sense of wild abandon, almost like I couldn’t rationalize the consequences. My judgment was clouded by need, a need that had transformed into a vicious never-ending pain. At least it felt like that for me.

I can’t even comprehend how I let this relationship get so far away from me. There’s no one on earth with a tighter grip on their emotions than me. I’ve always been practical and by the book, stern, unfeeling to a fault, even. But had you asked me if that was a problem before, if I was looking to change, I would have laughed in your face.

So then how did I get here? How have I screwed this up so badly?

“For the record, I liked our strange little friendship.”

This actually makes her chuckle sadly. “Yeah…me too.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Scarlett

Hudson and I put our friendship on ice, but it doesn’t mean we aren’t acutely aware of each other 24/7. I try my hardest to avoid him in the office, but it just isn’t possible. Working on the same floor, in the same department, means I bump into him all the time, and that’s not even including all the mandatory meetings about the McNealand acquisition that’s getting underway.

The Monday after his mom’s birthday, he and I happen to end up on the same elevator first thing in the morning, and there is no way to avoid the weird tension and awkward eye contact. To make matters worse, the pack of people buffering us thins out by the 55th floor, and then it’s just Hudson and me! Alone in a stainless steel box! If it were flammable, we’d be nothing but ash, that’s how much tension burns between us.

I stand facing the doors, holding my breath. I don’t want to get so much as a whiff of his cologne. My plan is to flee the first second I can.

“Scarlett.”

He says my name with this exquisite pain in his voice, like I’m torturing him, just as the doors are about to slide open, and I squeeze my eyes closed, hold my breath, and dart out of the elevator as fast as possible.

He’s not allowed to Scarlett me! Not even now, a week into our weird exile from each other. I’d be lying if I said my anger hadn’t started to simmer down. There’s only so long I can hold a grudge. It’s harder than it seems! I don’t have the emotional bandwidth for it. I’d rather spend that time, I don’t know, stalking Real Housewives forums on Reddit.

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