“Don’t you use your spot to park?” Hudson asks as I direct him to park in the second space available at my apartment building. I’m still renting the small mother-in-law suit from Ryland and Marissa. The rent is too darn good to give up the opportunity to live in the middle of the city. Even if it does mean I share a hallway with Ryland and am forced to follow his ridiculous rules. His latest? Banning me from listening to music after three. Who doesn’t enjoy Justin Bieber?
I shake my head and then realize he’s not looking in my direction. Apparently, the big muscular hottie isn’t as interested in staring at me as I am staring at him. The compact rental car Hudson ushered me into after the party ended is filled with his body. The top of his head skims the ceiling and his arm hangs way over the middle console.
“I sold my car when I moved into the city.” The Honda was old and needed to be done even though Ryland said I could use the extra parking spot — a big concession, which I’m pretty sure came from Marissa. But ultimately, I needed the money and no car insurance helps. The cost of living in the city is outrageous.
Hudson grunts. He’s a man of few words. His eyes constantly scan the horizon as if he’s taking in any threats in the area. Or I’ve imagined it after being introduced to him as my bodyguard. It’s scary to imagine I need a bodyguard. Especially one so big.
Ben promised it’s only until Richie wakes up from his coma. He assured me Richie would rat out the person who shot him and then I’d be safe, but who knows how long he’ll be in the coma. Hudson is my full-time shadow until then. I’m doing my best to pretend everything is fine, and this is typical holiday behavior. The four glasses of wine I had pumped down my throat by Aspen helped.
I didn’t put up a fight, even though I should have. There’s no way I can go to work with Hudson hanging around my space. Honestly the whole scene is a blur. With Marissa a few feet away from me making all the sexual innuendos she could come up with, I was busy trying not to be humiliated. Sometimes she’s a great person and as a best friend Marissa would take on anyone in a back alley for you… but other times I want to strangle her.
Hudson follows me to the side of the lot and toward the front steps of the building before he stops. “Wait, didn’t you say you live on the top floor? Isn’t that an elevator?” Hudson asks carrying an overstuffed duffel bag on one shoulder.
I cringe at the mention of the elevator. “Yeah, it leads right to the penthouse, but we don’t use it.”
Hudson narrows his eyes in my direction, but it doesn’t take away from his hotness. In fact, the slight edge makes him a little more mysterious. Dammit. I must stop thinking of him as cute and remember he’s here for a job. Me.
The wind stirs and I imagine Hudson’s shirt blowing open. The muscles on his chest ripple as the wind flows through his hair, Fabio style. I’m in serious trouble.
The last few months I’ve read way too many romance books.
“Why don’t you use the elevator?”
“Well… we’re pretty sure Marissa and Ryland do…thingson the elevator.” I widen my eyes on the wordthings,hoping he’ll figure it out and not need more explanation.
He nods his head once. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” I say picking up my steps again, and this time Hudson follows without complaint.
We walk up the four flights of stairs, and even though I’ve lived here for months, I’m out of breath by the time we reach the top.
I punch in the code as Hudson stands behind me staring at the movement of my fingers over my shoulder. He takes up too much space, steals too much of my needed oxygen.
The door opens and I push my way through, stopping in front of my apartment. I don’t need to use the key to open the door. I trust Marissa not to break in to my place. Hudson takes two steps across the threshold and stops, his eyes scanning the few small rooms of the apartment.
He drops his black bag on the floor next to the door. “You understand this apartment is not safe, correct?”
I stop inside the kitchen, needing a glass of water to cool myself down, and do my best to ignore the squeaks coming from my bedroom. “Yes, it is.” A hand sticks to my hip in a move I’ve learned from Marissa. I told you she’s handy as a friend. “There’s a code.” Didn’t he see me type in the code?
“And how many people know the code?”
“How many people know the code?” My question trails off as I consider my answer. Granted, I’m still using the same code Aspen had when she lived here, but only people I trust know it. Finn, Aspen, Marissa, Ryland, Simone… Probably Trey.
In fact, the single person in our group who doesn’t know the code is Ben. Which if anyone should, he should. He is the cop.
Of course, I can’t admit any of this to Hudson. His judgy gaze is locked in on the giant window at the end of the living room. It’s the only natural light source in this place.
Playing it off like it’s no big deal I shrug and say, “A couple.”
His lips press together in a line. “Two, then?”
“Well… a few.” When he looks at me, his gaze cuts through my defenses and I can’t lie, but I also don’t tell the truth… exactly.
“Uh-huh,” he says like he doesn’t buy my lie.
“What’s that mean?” I ask. I’ve always been a glutton for punishment.
Hudson shakes his head. “You are not safe.”
