Joe didn’t miss a beat. He was ready the second I finished my nonsensical tirade. “I think that if you really want to win Steve back, you’ll do it.”
“Thank you,” I said, but I didn’t sound convinced. I guessed hearing my goal spoken back to me didn’t sound as good as I thought. It was like ordering flan. It always looked good on the menu, but it made me doubt my choice as soon as it was served at the table. Joe’s certainty that I would get Steve back filled me with a certain apprehension that I hadn’t felt before. Perhaps it was the nice day I was having or the beautiful surroundings or the kind of company that was confusing me from my goals.
“I can’t eat another bite,” I said.
“Me, either. I’ll clean up, and then I’ll take you home. I’ll send you off with your dessert in a box.”
“Thank you. I’ll help with the dishes.”
It didn’t take long to clean up, and soon we were back on our bikes, heading to my house. He carried my boxed cheesecake in his basket that he usually used for deliveries. I wanted to tell Joe that he didn’t need to escort me back, but I was still a little nervous about the bike, so I let him accompany me. I was happy to discover that the ride back was easier than the ride there had been. I must have been getting the hang out of cycling.
When we got back to my place, I thanked Joe again, and he repeated his invitation for me to visit anytime. Then he was gone. He didn’t ask to come in. He didn’t try to kiss me. He didn’t try to get me to join his cult. Either he was playing the long game, or he really just wanted to be friends. I didn’t know what to think about either of those options.
Opening the garage, I parked the bike. Just as I was kicking the kickstand, there was a roar of an engine, and a black vintage Camaro drove up and parked in the driveway. Hudson stepped out. He was wearing grey jeans and a tight black t-shirt.
And muscles.
He was wearing a lot of muscles.
CHAPTER 10
“The Voice and the Essence”
I put my hand above my eyes, like I was trying to shield them from the sun even though there was no sun blinding me. Just Hudson. “Hudson, is that you? I don’t recognize you in real clothes.”
“All clothes are real clothes,” he said, marching his way into the garage. “If it covers your body, it’s clothes. Don’t put titles on clothes. Don’t give into society’s stupid rules.”
“Says the man with actual commandments.”
“I don’t have commandments about clothes.”
“I’ve literally got my boobs in new bras because of you.”
He cracked a smile. “Let’s not talk about clothes.”
I put my hand up. “Okay. Truce. Peace on the Western Front. We’ll only talk about disgusting food. At least, that’s what you call it: Food. I just call it disgusting.”
He cracked a smile again, and his eyes searched my face for something, but I didn’t know for what.
“What is that?” he asked, pointing at my bike.
“It’s my bike. I was biking. I was doing something new. I was following a commandment.”
“You bicycled? You pushed the pedals withyourfeet?”
I rubbed my legs. “I used my whole body. I’m sore from head to toe.”
He lightly touched my forehead, let his finger glide down the side of my cheek. “You even got sun, like you’ve been outside.”
“I was outside. There’s not a lot of room to bicycle in the house.”
“I’m so proud of you,” he gushed and embraced me in a side hug. He held the hug for a long time. “I didn’t tell you to bicycle, but you did it anyway. I’m so proud of you, Eliza. You’ve come a long way.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him I had just eaten six-hundred grams of carbohydrates and that there was a box of cheesecake in my basket, which Joe had given me before he left. The news would have crushed Hudson, and I didn’t want to ruin his happy moment.
“Why are you here?” I asked him. “Are you going to stuff cruciferous vegetables down my throat? Are you going to take me to a girdle salesman? Are you going to make me climb a mountain? Oh, wait. You already did those things.”
He pulled out of the embrace and looked down at me, his face awash with pride and joy. He smiled, and he almost knocked me back with the power of it. He was too good-looking. Too good-looking to be hanging around me. He should have been hanging around supermodels or Tik Tok influencers or reality TV stars. He should have been on magazine covers, showing off his stomach or on a pedestal somewhere, encased in bronze.
