to say that we might be losing out on some mortgage payments due to a few units that haven’t been able to sell as quickly as we’d predicted.”
“Why would you do that?” It took a second for the plural part of that statement to register. “Oh my gosh! Samaya! Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shoved his chest, pushing him to his back, and he grabbed my wrist before I could yank it back. I was curled over him, hand settled on his bare chest, palm warm from being pressed to his tight, hot skin.
He gave me a grin, full of wicked delight and happiness. “Because I wanted you near me and safe. And because Samaya was there for you when you were hurt. It was a small sacrifice.”
“You showed me this building knowing it’d be my favorite.”
“That didn’t mean I knew you would take it. You’re stubborn and at the time, mistrusting enough, I figured there was a chance you’d stay close to where you were already comfortable.”
“Stubborn,” I scoffed and yanked back my hand, putting space between us. He’d always known me so well. Now I understood why, but that didn’t diminish my pain over it all. Even if I was the one who started this conversation. “You did that for me.”
“I wanted you close.”
“Hudson.”
He groaned and reached for me. “No more. Let me hold you and sleep this shitty day away. You can interrogate me all you want tomorrow once I have energy to think straight.”
The words came out slow, like it was taking effort for him to speak after such a long, crappy day.
I gave in easily. I was there to help, not further stress him out.
“Okay.” I dropped to my side, rolled over, putting my back to him and then shifting until the lengths of our bodies were aligned and his arm wrapped over my stomach. He grabbed my hand and held ours clasped together, and soon the soft puffs of his breath mixed with my racing heart were the only sounds in the room.
I was almost asleep when he whispered in my ear. “Don’t leave in the morning. Please.”
Relaxed, warm, and in his arms that had begun to make me feel so safe, I had the urge to tell him I wasn’t going anywhere, but the promise stuck in my throat.
“I’ll be here tomorrow,” I said instead, and squeezed his hand holding mine. “And I’m glad I was here tonight. And just you know, I wasn’t just there for David.”
I woke and stretched, groaning from a bed so soft. My eyes immediately popped open. It took me a minute to take in the dark blue walls, the walnut dresser on one side and the white comforter I was sleeping beneath to realize I was in Hudson’s bed. Rolling to my side, I searched for him but the side of his bed was empty. My eyes were scratchy, probably from all the tears I shed yesterday, and it was that reminder of David that jolted me sitting and had me whipping my feet to the floor.
Hudson.
David.
I was there because Hudson didn’t want to be alone. I hurried to his closet, rubbing my arms to warm them from the cool air. I grabbed the first sweatshirt I saw, tugged it off the hanger and threw it on over the Hawkeye shirt he let me sleep in. Goose bumps slid down my bare legs and I went to the dresser and yesterday’s clothes I left there. Thank God I wore leggings yesterday.
I tugged them on, bumping and bouncing all over the place as a muted clang and then slam came from the distance.
Of course he was working out. At five o’clock in the morning. He’d probably been up for hours, unable to sleep.
“So much help I was,” I muttered.
Dressed, I took a quick stop in the bathroom to wash up and brush my teeth before going to search for Hudson who was probably dripping in sweat and clinging to fear.
When I reached the kitchen, the coffee pot was on and full, a coffee mug sitting out next to it. I stopped long enough to pour a cup of black coffee and continued to the other side of the loft to his exercise room.
As suspected, Hudson was there, laying back on a bench, a bar of weights above him. His cheeks were flush, sweat dripped along his forehead and there was a light sheen over his chest and abs, all of which were bare.
Gracious. The man was so damn