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Treat it like a business transaction. Keep things polite, but with an increased distance.
Why does the thought make me feel like there are shards in my chest?
That’s how it has to be, though. Otherwise, before long, I’m going to find myself in real trouble.
25
SUMMER
“He’s tight-lipped lately,” Olivia remarks about Hudson after he leaves from his visit with Salsa.
“And that’s unusual for Hudson?”
Olivia flashes a grin. “It is when he’s around you.”
The truth of my roommate’s words causes sadness to detonate behind my chest. Ever since that kiss at the rink last week, Hudson’s been clammed up like back when I first met him. We haven’t mentioned it since, but the sudden frostiness in Hudson’s mood and curtness in his speech make his feelings about the incident crystal clear.
Not only does he not intend for there to be a repeat, he obviously regrets that it happened in the first place.
I shoo Olivia’s legs off my usual cushion on the loveseat and plop myself down. “Hudson and I kissed,” I finally admit. “For real.”
In an instant, she bolts to an upright position on her side of the sofa. “When? Just now?”
“Last week,” I sigh.
I don’t even have to glance to my right to know the outraged look my best friend is leveling at me. “And I’m only just hearing about it?”
“I know,” I groan apologetically. “It’s just …” I trial off, using a shake of my head to fill in the blank that I can’t find any words for.
“Let me guess. Ever since the kiss he’s been …”
I finish her thought. “Tight-lipped,” I repeat her own words.
After a beat of silence, Olivia simply says, “Wow.”
“Wow?” I echo, arching an eyebrow in her direction.
“He really likes you.”
I chew my inner lip in doubt. “Normally, when a guy likes a girl, and then they kiss, he wants it to happen again. He doesn’t suddenly become as cold as a freaking ice sculpture.”
“Unless,” Olivia counters, “he’s afraid of how much he likes the girl.”
I roll my eyes. “So melodramatic.”
“And you like him,” she taunts, leaning towards me to jab her index finger into my sides. “Admit it. Admit it. Admit it.”
I try to swat away her juvenile finger jabs, but she keeps getting through my defenses. “Fine!” the word finally erupts from my mouth through the fits of laughter her jabbing provokes. “Of course I like him! How couldn’t I? He’s sexy and funny and sweet even though no one looking at him from a distance would ever know it. He saved a cat from a life on the streets even though he wasn’t even allowed to have animals in his house and then agreed to a ridiculous fake relationship so she’d still be able to have a home! He wants to read every book I talk about, he makes me believe in my own talent when he talks about listening to me play, and he makes my shitty ex seethe with insecurity when he sees us together. How couldn’t I like him!?”
A thousand-pound sigh swooshes from me after I let out all those words. Olivia’s brow has taken residence much higher on her forehead than usual, telling me even she wasn’t expecting me to be that honest.
“But,” I say, adding an emphasis to the word that’s more intended for myself than my roommate, “he’s not the relationship type.”
“He said this?” Olivia asks, tilting her head in a probing gesture.
“He doesn’t need to. He’s … Hudson. He only has room for hockey in his life.” I roll my eyes at the words, know it’s exactly how Hudson feels. Judging by the couple comments he’s dropped about him, it’s probably something his father’s drilled into his head from a young age.
“What if he’d make room for you? If he knew that’s what you wanted?”
