I’m not ready for that.
“You’re not ready for that, I get it.” The way he knows me amazes me. “So we can text. Please. It’s better than nothing at this point.” I hear a faint knock on the other end, one of his employees probably. “Shit. I’ve got to go.” A pause. “Just…text me. Okay? I want to hear from you.” Another pause. “I love you. I miss you.”
The line goes dead.
I slowly pull the phone away from my ear, staring down at the black screen. What do I do with that? With the turmoil I hear in his voice? He sounds as miserable as I do. He sounds…broken.
Before I can stop myself, I shoot off a text to him.
Me: What’s your favorite animal?
Hudson
The smile that crosses my face is instant. She’s playing our game, Five. You can bet your sweet ass I’ll play right back.
Me: An otter. What’s your best kept secret?
I know I’m playing with fire sending that question, but it’s the first thing I thought of.
Rae: I drink from the jug of orange juice all the time. And I yell at anyone else that does it because it’s MY orange juice. What’s yours?
Me: I ate the yellow snow one time.
Rae: OMG. How old were you?
Me: I was four. Or six. Same difference. (Counting this as a question.)
Rae: I never want to kiss you again.
That’s a damn lie.
Me: What’s a lie you just told?
Rae: I never want to kiss you again.
Me: What’s your favorite quote? Mine is “Fuck bitches, get money.”
Rae: Liar. “Crap has always happened, crap is happening, and crap will continue to happen.” What’s really yours?
Me: Don’t have one. Who said that?
Rae: I’m counting this as one of the five. Chuck Palahniuk.
Smartass.
Me: Was that you who called?
Two minutes—I count—go by before she answers.
Rae: Yes. Wouldn’t it suck if it wasn’t?
Me: I’m glad I didn’t mention the time I ate the yellow snow when I was sixteen, then…
Rae: OMG. Are you joking?
Me: Sorry, out of questions.
Rae: HUDSON!
Me: RAE!
Me: I love you.
Rae: I know.
I stare at my phone for minutes, waiting for another reply, needing another reply.
I don’t get one.
“Who the fuck just killed a kitten? You look depressed, man.”
I didn’t even notice Gaige walk into my office. Partially because the door was open from when Liam popped his head in a few minutes ago, and also because I was so consumed by my little text exchange with Rae. Or her lack of real response. Whatever.
“Hey, man.”
He raises a brow at me, folding his arms over his chest. “What’s going on?”
“I was just texting Rae.”
“Like, as in she participated too?”
“Yep. Full blown conversation. We…we did Five.” I can’t stop the twitch to my lips just thinking of us going back to our roots, playing that silly five-question game in the beginning of our relationship.
Gaige’s eyes go wide, catching the significance. “Five? But that’s awesome! Why do you look sad?”
“I told her I loved her.”
“Okay…”
“She said, ‘I know.’”
His lips slam into a flat line in a nanosecond, his hands finding his hips. He stands there, looking deep in thought. Or constipated. I’m not sure which.
“Well, good.”
I throw my arms up. “What the fuck do you mean ‘good’? How is that good?”
He shrugs. “I don’t see how it’s bad.”
“It’s not even a real damn response!”
Again with the fucking shrug. “But it’s some sort of response. Better than radio silence.”
Throwing myself back in the chair dramatically, I sigh. “How the fuck do women even like you? You’re like this giant bag of…dicks.”
“Did you just call me a bag of dicks?”
“Don’t be one.”
“Because I said it’s good she’s even responding to you? Are you hearing yourself? Wait. Are you going crazy? You’re not making any sense.”
“You’re not sense!”
Lifting his hands like he’s Chris fucking Pratt warding off those ferocious little velociraptors, he says, “Right. Let’s pretend you didn’t just fly off the handle and move on, huh?”
I glare at him.
“Right,” he repeats. “You want to go to Clyde’s tonight? I know Joe’s still at Elle’s, so I’d figured I’d invite ya out. Just eat some grub, grab a few beers, maybe watch a game or some shit.”
“No.”
“Want to just get rip-roaring drunk?”
“Yes.”
It feels like my head is Santa’s workshop and a dozen or so little elves are making about a hundred toys per minute.
Getting drunk sucks.
Lie.
Getting drunk is fun. It’s the hangover that sucks.
Gaige and I decided getting drunk was something that “needed” to happen. So we did. Or I did. He stayed sober. All I remember is going to Clyde’s, eating a basket of fries, doing five shots of Patrón, guzzling down three beers, and then washing that all down with two shots of Jameson. And we were only there an hour. Yeah, I was begging for this fucking hangover.
Gaige drove me home—but not before I puked down the side of my car out the window—tucked me into bed, and left me to my own devices after he made sure I wasn’t going to swallow my own barf in my sleep.
Such a good friend. (Note the sarcasm there.)
“Knock, knock!” Liam hollers, walking right in my office. “You look like shit, boss.”
I groan, holding my head in my hands. His voice sounds like someone took a pillowcase full of silverware and shook it up real fast. And I hate the sound of silverware clinking together.
“Heard you got pretty wasted last night.”
Peeking up at him, I glare but don’t answer.
“Heard you even puked down the side of your car.”
My stomach twists into knots at the thought and I press my hand to it, trying to hold back the vomit climbing its way up my throat.
“Shit. Sorry. Anyway, your girl is here. Want me to send her back?”
I spring out of my chair in an instant, the nausea hitting me so hard I reach for the trash can and actually do vomit this time.
“Yeah, I’m out. I’ll give ya five and send her back,” he says, hightailing it out of the room.
I empty my stomach, which turns out to be mostly liquid, starting to feel a little more like myself with every heave. Straightening back up, I wipe my mouth and look around for the extra bottle of mouthwash I stashed in here years ago. I take a swig, cringing at the stale taste. Swish, spit, repeat. I do a breath check and decide I’m good to go.
Then I realize I’m not so good because I’ve been pacing for the past two minutes.
Rae’s coming to see me. On her own. She’s taking the initiative in this. She wants to see me. Does this mean she’s ready to move forward? To forgive? Because I’m so fucking ready for that.
Wait…what if she’s not? What if she’s here to break this off officially? FuckfuckFUCK.
“H-Hudson?” My head snaps toward the door at the sound of her voice. I swear it, my fucking knees go weak and I have to grab hold of the corner of my desk to keep me stable. Or maybe that was just the sudden movement and little bit of wooziness from the booze still hanging around. Yeah, that seems more logical.
“Rae.” I smile at her, motioning to the chairs on the visitor’s side of the desk. “Come sit. I’m glad to see you.”
She wrings her hands together, obviously nervous about something, and takes a seat next to me. Panic rolls over my spine. Maybe she is here to make this break official. I gulp loudly. I can’t take it if that’s what she’s here to d
o.
Remember when you were younger and you played the Quiet Game with your friends? The one who stays quiet the longest gets the loser’s chocolate milk at lunch? That game you always tried your hardest to win? It feels like we’re both playing that now. To the extreme. That’s how silent the room is right now—Quiet Game winner worthy, and it looks like neither one of us is ready to give up our chocolate milk.
I take a deep breath, deciding that’s a risk I’m willing to take. She jumps a little at the sound, tilting her head to glance up at me.
“What—” I clear my throat, the nervousness creeping in, and try again. “What are you doing here, Rae?”
Confusion coats her face, and her eyes grow cautious and unsure.
“Oh, no. It’s not that I’m not happy to see you—because I am—I’m just wondering why you’re here,” I reassure her, realizing my question sounded like I didn’t want her here.
This doesn’t do anything to clear her eyes of uncertainty.
I sit up in my chair, not sure why she’s still looking at me like I’ve gone insane. “Um, did I say something wrong?”
“You invited me, Hudson. Last night.”
I invited her? When…?
“Oh shit.”
“What?”
“Huh?”
“You said, ‘oh shit.’ Why?”
I groan, grabbing my head and giving it a good squeeze, trying to get the stupid to fall out. Must be stuck, dumbass.
“Did I…call you last night?”
She shakes her head. “No, you texted.”
I did? I pull my phone from my pocket, opening up my texts to see what all I sent in my drunken haze.
Me: Tpmrrw? Seee yu? Come bye?
Rae: Yes.
I want to laugh at my atrocious spelling skills, but I don’t. All I can focus on is that Rae responded within seconds and ignored all the signs pointing to drunk. Because she wanted to see me too.
Pocketing my phone, I stare at her, her lips pursed, waiting for an answer of some sort. “I, uh, kinda got wasted last night. That was a desperate drunken text.”
I feel the heat radiating off her. She’s angry. I just don’t know why. I’d be flattered as hell if I was the only thing someone could think about when they were drunk.
“You were out last night, partying it up, huh? During all of this shit we’re going through, you decide it’s a good idea to go out and get hammered? With who? Fuckin’ chick magnet Gaige himself? Great, Hudson. That’s just great.”
I lift my hands up, holding them out to her, surrendering to this war I had no idea we were in. “Hold the phone. I went out to clear my head, to relax a little. That’s all that was.” That doesn’t seem to ease her at all. “And don’t you dare bring Gaige into this. He doesn’t deserve that hint of distaste in your voice. He’s never done anything for you to believe he’s anything but a damn saint and you know it. In fact, neither have I. I’ve never lie—”
I stop, catching my biggest mistake.
She sits forward in her chair, her eyes falling into slits. “No, please continue, Hudson. Go ahead and tell me how you’ve ‘never lied’ to me. Go for it. Lie right to my face. Again. I dare you.”
I don’t say anything, the venom in her words eating a hole in my heart.
“Nothing to say, Hudson? Fuckin’ typical,” she spits, shaking her head in obvious disgust.
Grabbing her bag, she lifts from the chair, and I panic. She’s leaving. I grab at her wrist, closing my fingers around her, stopping her in her tracks.
“Stop. Please.”
She does.
Even though she hasn’t turned around to look at me, I hang my head, the shame of my lies weighing me down. “Rae. I’d never do anything like you’re suggesting, and you know that. Don’t turn this shit with your dad into something it’s not. That’s not us. We don’t do that.”
Nothing. I tug gently on her wrist and she finally looks back at me, piercing me with her sad green eyes.
“We don’t do this. We don’t pick stupid fights over insane things. And we definitely don’t walk out just because we’re upset. I let you do it before, and if my sleepless nights and cold sheets are any indication, that was the biggest mistake I’ve made. Just please. Please. Stay.”
She pulls her wrist free, marching around me and sitting back in her chair. Taking a calming breath, I follow her, sitting on the edge of my seat next to her. I reach out and pull her hand into my lap. She won’t look at me, so I reach over and pull her face toward mine.
“We’re done walking out. If we have shit to work through, we’re doing it then. I don’t want a relationship like that. I’ve had one before and they’re shit.”
She casts her eyes down, a tear making its way down her cheek. “That, what I accused you of, that was wrong. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.” She pauses, collecting herself. “That’s not me, Hudson. I…fuck! I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel like I’m going nuts.”
I don’t disagree with her, because I feel like I’m going nuts too. This whole thing just reeks of fuckedupness. It’s gotten messy and ugly, and I hate it. I want our clean, beautiful, easy relationship back.
“I only went out last night because I can’t fucking bear the thought of going back to an empty house. Joey’s still at my mom’s. I don’t know how to tell her, to talk to her about any of this.”
“Tell her what?”
I swallow, scared to say the words. “That you moved out.”
Rae laughs and it’s so damn beautiful. “I didn’t move out, Hudson. I’m just clearing my head too. That’s the only way that made sense at the time.”
“I…I miss you. And I know that’s not fair to say, but it’s the damn truth. I want you back in our house, in our bed, in my life every damn day. I just…want you.”
“I want that too.”
“Then—”
“No,” she interrupts. “I’m just… I still need some time, Hudson. I know that’s not what you want to hear, and honestly, it might not even be the right answer, but it’s the truth. Just…not yet.”
I nod, not in agreement but because I don’t trust myself to speak, especially since all I want to do right now is beg. Beg her to come home, to forgive me, to let me love her for the rest of our days. But I don’t. I keep my mouth shut.
“I should go. I’ve got some work to do and you’re probably busy catching up on work.”
She gets up to leave again and I feel the panic hit me once more. I don’t have any plans to see her again. “Go on a date with me!”
The words tumble out of my mouth, my eyes wide and surprised. Her reaction mirrors my own.
“O-okay,” she agrees.
“Okay?”
“Okay. I would really love that.”
I take a few steps toward her, crowding her against the office door, smirking down at her. “I’d really love that too.”
She tries to turn away from my words, hiding a smile that’s formed on her lips at my mocking her. I grab her chin and pull her face back to mine. I hold her gaze and lower my mouth to hers, sealing our lips together in a hard kiss. I feel her body start to sway, her tongue darting out, begging me to tangle mine up with hers. I pull back and peer down at her, my lips tingling with the memory of hers. She’s breathless and her eyes are glazed over in a dense sexual haze, and I fucking love it.
I give her another quick kiss, ending it before she can even react. “How’s Friday?”
“Huh?”
Chuckling, I say, “How’s Friday for our date?”
She clears her throat, letting out a small sexy laugh. “Good.”
“Good or really good?”
“Really good.”
I smile, leaning down to close my lips over hers again, letting this one linger. It’s slow and loving. The perfect mix of I want to rip your clothes off and make slow, sweet love to me. I wrap my tongue around hers at the same time I do my arm, using both as anchors. I cup her face, getting just the angle I want, exploring he
r mouth even further. I know it’s time to back off when she lets out a low moan.
It takes another five seconds before I force myself to back away. Resting my head against hers when I do, I suck in air, letting the magic we create together settle around us, letting her feel how amazing things are with us, how fucking right they are.
“I love you, Rae,” I whisper, my lips brushing lightly over hers with every word.
“I know.”
The Game of Five
Rae:I’m secretly attracted to Channing Tatum…’s ass. Celebrity crush?
Hudson: eAsy. Emma Stone. See what I did there? (And don’t make fun of my awesome taste in movies.)
Rae: Easy A reference. Nice. (Counting as question.) If you had to pick…smell horse poop the rest of your life or eat your least favorite meal every day?
Hudson: Your strangeness is a concern. Meal. Do you like chili cheese hotdogs?
Rae: Stop being gross, Hudson. It’s unattractive. What’s your favorite pet name? Like, for another person.
Hudson: Does asshole count?
Rae: Yes, and so does that question.
Hudson: Dammit. What’s one thing you wish for almost daily?
Rae: Perk to start delivering coffee and scones. Yours?
Hudson: You.
Hudson: Shit. Sorry. It…it just came out. I’m sorry.
Rae: I miss you too.
Hudson: Does Friday make you nervous too?
Rae: Beyond.
Rae: Wait. Too? Does that mean you’re nervous?
Hudson: Beyond. And that’s Five.
Hudson: Are you ready for tomorrow?
Rae: No. You?
Hudson: Yes. And no. Five?
Rae: You’re already down to 3. Make them good.
Hudson: I CAN’T HANDLE THAT SORT OF PRESSURE!
Rae: Suck it up.
Hudson: If you could own one thing, anything in the entire world, what would it be?
Rae: Hmm… Google. Then I’d be rich as hell. And smart. Google people are smart, right? (doesn’t count!)
Hudson: I think so.
Rae: Then Google. You?
Hudson: Your heart.
Rae: OMG. CHEESEBALL! That was so LAME!
Here's to Forever Page 8