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Rory is my world and I’m so proud of the little girl she’s become. That she’d want to do something like this with me that’s my dream. That she has so much input in it and cheers me on, even though she’s only able to do so much.
I’m inspired as all hell to make her proud and, maybe eventually, talk to Hudson about her.
Maybe.
It won’t be anytime soon because I’m still learning some of his mannerisms. We’re still so new that I don’t feel entirely safe with that information being known just yet. Rory will always be my priority, no matter how much I’d like to see him right now. This is my life and future. And Hudson is still blurry.
Mia orders our food and we find another small bench to sit at and eat. My phone goes off twice, but I finish up our nachos with the girls and we plan our next truck like we’re about to surround and attack it.
“Spaghetti,” Rory insists with furrowed brows. “We need it.”
“We can eat that at home,” Mia retorts softly. “Let’s do the Gnocchi.”
My daughter wrinkles her nose. “Ew.”
“Yeah, ew,” I argue. “Hard pass.”
Mia throws her hands in the air. “Well, they don’t have much unless you wanna do the fettuccine.”
“Yes,” Rory and I both say at the same time, and Mia groans.
“Fine.”
Another plate down and we get back into another line for another meal when I steal a look at my phone to see what Hudson said.
HUDSON: Watch it, Opie.
HUDSON: I find out you’re with another man over me…I might just lose my shit.
twenty-nine
. . .
HUDSON
I can’t get her out of my head.
Even when she’s not here, I want her to be. She’s been running around doing errands for me all morning and I’m half tempted to call her back just so I can spread her thighs along my desk and eat lunch.
I’m getting in over my head.
And I’ve had the civil war ping-ponging back and forth several different times but she always wins. I have no plans of giving this up no matter what kind of fucking weird looks I get or how anyone else feels about it. This is my life and I chose how the hell I live the damn thing.
Fishing my cell out of my pocket, I’m pulling Liv’s number up and hit the call button before I can stop myself and permit her some time to get her shit done. I told her I was going to take her on a date and she deserves one. It’s not my cup of tea, the awkwardness of it all is mind-numbing, but I’ve fucked this girl several different ways to Sunday.
It shouldn’t be a problem.
“Hey,” she greets me after two rings. “I’m almost done.”
“Well, drop what you’re doing because I want you in my office, now.”
“Did something happen?” she asks, sounding worried and sweet and everything I want to devour right now.
“You’re pussy isn’t in my mouth and I’m starving.”
“Oh, God…” I can see her eye roll right now with my caveman ways that never cease to demand and crave. “Please tell me you’re in your office when you’re attempting to talk dirty to me.”
Attempting?
