you’re for real about her, it shouldn’t matter who gives a fuck, me included. Nobody loves Vanessa, but I don’t give a shit. She may not be anyone’s favorite except mine, but I love her and she loves me. So to hell with all of you.” And that was why he’d been my best friend for almost two decades. Calvin was a damn good guy.
“Good. Thanks.”
“No need to thank me. Thank you. Now, I don’t have to worry about her getting with some prick anymore.”
“So we’re cool?”
“Baby, we’re ice cold.”
We both stood and he gestured like he was coming in for a hug and then waited for my approval. When I shrugged, he pulled me in and slapped me hard, really hard, on the back.
Then he said, “And just so we’re clear, I never—ever—want to talk about you getting laid again. That part of our friendship is over now. We had a good run. Now, get the fuck out of here before I change my mind and drown you in this cursed money pit you built me.”
“Deal.” I knew when to press my luck and when to fold, and I had somewhere else I’d rather be anyway.
As I drove away from his house, I was feeling pretty damn high. I was two-and-oh on people taking the news well and couldn’t wait until Lex and I were out in the open with everyone in our lives.
Maybe then it wouldn’t feel like a dream.
Maybe then it would be without-a-doubt real.
I missed a call from Lauren when I was in the shower, but she didn’t leave a voicemail, so I decided I’d just call her back some other time. A different time when I wasn’t scrubbing and buffing every square inch of my body for her son’s father’s benefit.
To say things were a bit complicated was an understatement. Hell, I was still letting my mind wrap around it.
I smiled at my reflection in the foggy mirror. We’d officially made it to Friday and Lauren would have Jack for the next few days.
And I’d have Hudson.
It wasn’t until my phone buzzed again that I got suspicious—and then immediately livid.
Cal: Where should we send the thank-you card for the velvet painting of Beep and Boop you gave us for the wedding? Your house or your boyfriend Hudson’s?
I threw my phone down onto the bed without even replying.
It had been a long time since my temper had shown its steaming head, but she was back in full force. And it escalated when I circled back to Lauren’s call and could only assume Hudson had told her too.
Why was he trying to ruin this? I was barely coming to terms with the possibility that whatever we were doing wasn’t just a fling or a deep-seated morbid curiosity.
As soon as I was dressed in jean shorts and a tank top, assuming we’d go to Huey’s and play darts, I sat on the ramshackle Adirondack chair I’d stolen from the beach house on my porch, argued with myself, and waited for Hudson’s blabbermouth to get there. I wasn’t going to waste even one second before I let him have a piece of my mind.
Let me tell you, he had a lot of nerve pulling his stupid truck into my driveway while wearing a damn smile an acre wide. Before he was even out of his pickup, I was at the edge of my porch and my sanity.
“How dare you tell my family about us!”
“How dare I?” He seemed completely unfazed as he lifted a duffel bag out of his back seat. If he thought he was staying the night, he had another thing coming.
I was pissed.
He couldn’t be bothered though and walked right up to me, planted a kiss on my temple—which I tried and failed to dodge—and then strolled his happy ass past me and into my house. The nerve!
I stomped in behind him as he made his way into my kitchen and pulled one of my beers from my refrigerator.
Who did he think he was?
“Ahhh, that’s good,” he said after tipping the cold brew back.
“Hudson. I am mad.”
He nodded. “I can see that. It’s cute.”
“Cute?” I seethed. “Cute?! It’s anything but cute. Why did you tell everyone?”
He leaned against the counter, cool as a pain-in-the-ass cucumber, and crossed his legs at the ankle. “That’s easy. I didn’t.”
“Then can you explain why Lauren called and why Cal is sending me text messages calling you my boyfriend?”
“Oh, that. Yes. I told them. And, babe, I am your boyfriend.”
I was