well worn and soft, with the lettering and Hawkeye logo stamped across the chest but even that was beginning to fade after so many years of use. I took it from him and ducked into the bathroom.
There, I made quick work of brushing my teeth, splashed my face with soap and water and cringed at the dry feel of my skin afterward. But the makeup and memories from the day had to go.
Once I was dressed in the shirt he gave me and my own folded in my arms, I stepped out of the bedroom and set my items on his dresser. Hudson was at the windows of his room staring out into the inky night, hands at his hips, wearing only gray athletic shorts and his muscles.
“My dad has cancer.”
He said the words like he was trying them out, and I hated how wrong they sounded.
“I know.” I doubted he was looking for another reminder of his prognosis or the positive outlook jargon so instead, I allowed him his time to let the truths he spoke settle in his mind.
While he looked at the nothingness through his bedroom window, I scooted around the edge of the bed and his body at the window and slid onto the side I’d slept on last time. The covers were warm, immediately enveloping me in the heady scent of Hudson’s minty shampoo mixed with cologne. I breathed it in, the scent certainly made to release relaxation pheromones.
Perhaps it was his bed, the firmness of it so much more high quality than anything I’d ever slept on including my own bed downstairs.
I rolled to my side, facing the windows and where Hudson still stood, unmoving.
“Come to bed. Your fears and worries will still be there in the morning.”
“What a fucking horrid thought,” he said and glanced at me.
I winced, realizing how that sounded. “Sorry, I didn’t mean.”
“I know what you meant.” He came to me then, arms now loose at his sides and he sat down on the bed and turned, his hips at the bend in my legs, draping an arm over my side until he was half-leaning over me.
He was so close, so comfortable and familiar with my body. I inhaled a quick breath as he leaned in closer and brushed his thumb over my cheek. “Thank you. I know I said it earlier, but I’m glad you were there tonight. I know you came for David, because he asked, but I am glad you were there, and even more so that you’re willing to be here.”
I was speechless. I’d often seen Hudson confident, edging on arrogance, and I’d seen him sarcastic and kind and tender and sad. Over the last two months, I’d seen a wide variety of emotions this man could shed like a second skin.
But this softness? This understanding?
I shivered beneath the blanket from the intensity of it. And a part of me, a very large part of me wanted to push up to my elbows and press my lips to his, to kiss away the pain between us, my lingering mistrust and hardened walls and Hudson’s pain and fear of what was to come.
I debated a moment too long. Hudson moved back and gave me a smile that said he saw my struggle and would wait until there was none. He pushed off the bed and grinned down at me.
“I need to use the bathroom. Do you need your purse?”
“No.” My phone was in there, but I already knew Hudson would set an alarm. He woke up hours before I usually did so he could exercise before work.
Blasphemy, I teased him for it once. It wasn’t human or natural to wake before the sun when temperatures were freezing to move your body. That’s what comforters and electric blankets were created for.
He returned to his room minutes later. The bed dipped from his weight and a gust of cold air wafted under his raised sheets. I turned to him, propped my arm up on my elbow and settled my head in my palm.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Only if it’s easy to answer.” I understood him. No more heavy tonight.
This skirted the line, but I forged ahead anyway. “This building. Was it really one of the listings available to the people who lived in my old one and the other ones torn down?”
He rubbed his hand over his face. “Lilly—”
I poked his chest. The answer didn’t so much matter, more the reasoning behind it. “Tell me.”
“It would be safe