Hudson puts his fork down, an obvious hitch in his voice that gets everyone’s attention. “We, uh . . .” He clears his throat and tries again. “We . . . we . . .”
“Dude,” Garrett asks slowly, squinting at him. “Are you having a stroke?”
The other guys around the table seem just as bewildered, and I gather this isn’t something they’ve ever witnessed with their friend.
Hudson throws an irritated glance at Garrett before tossing a similar glare around the table, nostrils flaring as he takes in a breath like he’s trying to compose himself.
I place a hand on his shoulder. “You good, man?”
“Yeah. Yes.” Hudson responds before taking a sip of water. “I’m fine. Just . . . a huge fan, actually. I don’t watch much TV, but my wife and I never miss your movies.Fatal Facets, Pilots of the Pacific, Credit Card Millionaire, Truly Yours Again. . .”
A pin-drop silence falls over the table, and I swear no one moves.
I keep my gaze pinned on my plate, because if I look up and catch anyone else’s, I will absolutely lose it.
It isn’t unusual for people to get a little flustered when they first meet me, but watching Hudson, a man who likely has thirty pounds and two inches over my six–foot–one height, get tongue-tied? It’s pretty fucking funny.
I get the sense that not much rattles him, that he’s likely the most calculating and stoic of the group. So watching him stammer even has his friends in shock.
“Holy shit,” Troy whispers, clearly covering his smile behind a napkin.
“Jesus,” Dean follows, both disgusted and stunned. “Hud, is that a tear at the corner of your eye, or do they just water more since you’re so ancient?”
Hudson gives Dean a scathing look. “Shut the fuck up, asshole. Firstly, I’m only a couple of years older than you. And secondly, I’m a hundred times more composed than you were the first time you met Troy.”
“We can all vouch for that,” Dev agrees and turns to me. “Dean has an altar dedicated to Troy in his bedroom.”
My brows rise, and I look over at Dean to see if he’ll argue, but he just smiles proudly.
“Let’s not forget the pajama bottoms he wears each night with Troy’s face on them,” Garrett adds, taking a bite of his tart.
Darian nods. “He didn’t wash his hand for days after shaking Troy’s for the first time.”
“True story.” Dean nods. “But it was more like weeks.”
“Fucking nasty, bro,” Garrett condemns. “The sad thing is, I don’t know if you’re kidding.”
“I’m not.”
I can’t help but laugh, my previous melancholy over having lost touch with my childhood friends lifting off my shoulders.
Troy mentioned these guys multiple times this week, telling me how they’d become his closest friends, and I can see why. Twenty minutes in their presence, and I already feel like I’ve known them for twenty years.
“It’s fine,” I say, looking at Hudson, who is once again staring at his plate. “I’m flattered, actually. Honestly, you guys all seem more interesting than me, but can we all forget that I actually starred inCredit Card Millionaire?”
Dean nods somberly. “Not gonna lie, man, that one was pretty terrible.”
I laugh, though that familiar anguish threatens to pull me under. Not only was it a terrible fucking movie, but it was the last straw that broke my marriage. “You have no idea how many times I’ve wished I could go back in time and make a different choice.”
It’s then that the waitstaff comes in, and I’m spared from the way Dean’s eyes narrow on me. I get the feeling that under the class-clown act lurks a man who misses nothing.
“What were you going to say about your company, Hudson?” I ask, taking a sip from my latte.
Hudson finally seems to have settled his nerves, some of what I think is his usual sternness coming back in his demeanor.“We displace earth for large construction sites like buildings, malls, and so on and so forth.”
“He’s being modest,” Troy adds. “His company excavated the Blazers’ baseball field.”
“Wow,” I say, impressed.
