“So what type of guys do you date?” he asks looking like he cares about the answer.
“You heard about the guy in the mailroom. There were absolutely no ambitions in his life whatsoever. He played video games, but not the way Finn plays video games. He stayed up all night playing World of Warcraft online with friends and then he’d be late to work the next day. One month he had to borrow thirty bucks from me, which hesaidwould help buy a prescription but in reality, he needed to renew a gaming subscription.”
Hudson laughs. “Sounds like a real winner,” he says with complete sarcasm. “I’ve definitely got him beat.”
That he does.
“And your most recent breakup?”
Former SEAL or not, this guy has a promising career as a police detective working in interrogation. “An equally poor decision. He was a failed DJ.” I shrug, not knowing what else to say about the situation. “He had good taste in music.” He didn’t judge me for my Nickelback love.
Hudson laughs, and my insides soak it up. “How do you become a failed DJ?”
It does sound ridiculous when I hear myself say it. “He gave up. Now he sells gossip magazines at one of those newspaper kiosks you see on the streets.”
“Well I’ve learned one thing about you,” Hudson says shaking his head.
“What?”
“You have horrible taste in men.”
I smack him on the shoulder again. It’s not a shocking observation. “Because you never dated anyone a bit crazy?”
He shakes his head in denial. “When you’re in the military and spend most of your time overseas, it’s pretty hard to date.”
“You never dated anyone?” And I assumed my history was bad.
“A couple of people here and there. But nothing long term.” He leans back on the couch and the room goes silent for a few seconds. “What exactly am I to you? Another bad decision?”
Maybe. My gaze falls to my lap and I twist my fingers together. This would be better in email form. Give me time to type out an answer a few hundred times before hitting send.
When I raise my head, he’s still looking in my direction with that steadfast determined expression he gets where he’s going to wait me out for an answer.
“You’re someone who is leaving.” The words rush out of me and I wish I could take them back.
His lip quivers, fighting between a smile or frown. “I don’t want to leave. I hate the snow in Maine.”
Wonderful, just like normal. A guy would move to San Francisco, not for me, but because he doesn’t like snow. Yeah. I fall somewhere under snow.
“You wouldn’t go back to Maine?”
For a split-second after my question, he smiles. His eyes almost twinkle in the fading light coming through the large window of the living room. It’s enough time for me to get excited and for a bit of anticipation to spike my nerves. Is this the minute when he leans over and tells me he’ll stay here forever? Isn’t that what I’d like, one time to be enough for somebody?
But then his face falls, and it’s lost. Every hope and dream I’ve had for the last week and a half. Hell, every idea about finding the perfect guy for me, the one I dreamed about since I was seven washes away with one of his glances.
“No, Ridge needs me in Maine. Without him I’d be an unemployed military dropout. He’s growing his business, and I made a commitment.”
“Yeah, I get it,” I cut him off from whatever million excuses he would give me, proving once again nothing else matters because I’m not enough. Ridge has a growing business. The only thing I have is a heart. Plus, it’s absurd to get that excited. We barely know each other. Simone took a promotion in San Francisco on the hopes she’d run into Trey again one day — and she did — but that’s not normal. That shit only happens to lucky people. Not me. Never me.
I start to stand before Hudson pulls me back. “Don’t take it that way. It’s that there are commitments in Maine. My word is important. It’s the one good trait I can claim.”
I guess he doesn’t see me as a commitment. I’ll spend at least two hours in bed tonight analyzing whether that’s a good or bad thing.
Hudson twists a piece of my hair from in front of my eyes and leans in. He kisses me sweetly on the forehead. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy getting to know each other now.”
I can’t decide if his line is one of sincerity or a horrible pickup line from someone trying to get action. My heart wants to break into one million pieces. I want to run into my bedroom and hide under the covers, but I don’t pull away when he leans in and kisses me softly on the lips.
Another bad decision. I’m so good at making them.
