I glanced down at Hudson’s mouth, so close to my own, and had to force myself not to lean forward. Not to just melt into him and let his lips break my fall.
“Looks like you’ve got some ideas, too,” Hudson said, his voice thick and rough.
“No ideas here,” I whispered, but my gaze belied the words because I couldn’t drag my eyes away from his mouth.
I wanted it. Wanted to feel it against my own, wanted to feel it trailing down my neck, over my breasts…between my thighs. And every other inch of my body that hadn’t been touched like that in so long.
I jerked back as if I’d been electrocuted and averted my gaze, bouncing it to the cabin, then the shed, then the hammock hanging between the two huge trees in the yard. I wasn’t sure if it was the same one from years ago or not, but the sentiment still remained.
One awful memory didn’t taint all the good ones I’d shared here with Hud. When we’d been young and had our whole lives ahead of us. When I’d known what I wanted out of life.
When I hadn’t been such a failure.
Without a word, I walked over and sat down in the hammock, leaning back to let it cradle me. I’d unintentionally left room for Hudson to my right, and I wasn’t surprised in the least when he relaxed into place next to me. With our feet on the ground, we pushed back and forth in a slow rhythm, both our gazes locked on the lake and the kaleidoscope of fall colors surrounding it.
The sight brought a pang to my chest, an overwhelming longing sweeping into my bones. I’d missed this place. It’d been as much a part of my childhood as my own home had been, and after Hudson and I had said our goodbyes on that fateful weekend so long ago, I’d never looked back. Never once come out here. I couldn’t. Not without Hudson.
We sat and rocked slowly, our bodies lined up perfectly, pinkies interlocked—when had that happened?—and shoulders pressed together. My entire right side was lit up from the inside out, sparking at every touch of his skin against mine. I’d missed this, yes, and I’d missed him. But I’d also missed this casual affection from my once-best friend that I hadn’t been able to replace. Hadn’ttriedto.
After long minutes of nothing but the call of a buzzard and the wind through the trees, Hudson asked, “You ever think about the pact?”
Did I ever think about the pact? Only every day of my life for the past ten years. Some days it felt like I could do nothingbutthink about that stupid pact.
“Sometimes,” I lied, as if the promise we’d made to each other, right here on this lawn, wasn’t seared in my brain for eternity.
“It’s coming up, you know. Few months is all.”
“Is it?” I asked, my voice tight and too high as I tried to play off like I didn’t have a freaking mental countdown to the day on a constant loop in my mind.
“You planning to show up?”
“You’ll have to wait and see, I guess.”
He turned his head to stare at me, though I continued gazing out toward the lake. I couldn’t look at him—not now when everything was surely written all over my face. How the pact brought forth emotions I’d rather keep under wraps—fear and excitement and nervousness and dread all rolled into one giant ball of anxiety.
The pact date was the deadline I’d given myself to get my shit together. Todosomething with my life other than pour shots and wipe down tables at the local bar. So I could be worthy of someone like Hudson. A real-life hero who sacrificed for his friends and family and his country. Who dedicated his life to doing so.
I swallowed down my unease and finally met his gaze. His eyes burned into mine, bouncing all over my face as if trying to read me.
“You been thinkin’ about the pact?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.
Of course, he had other things to think of, to worry about. He wasn’t fixating on the stupid promise we’d made to each other when we were only?—
“Every day, Kenna. Every day.”
The earnestness in his voice took my breath away. Sincerity was written all over his face, and I couldn’t doubt his words for a second. Had he really been thinking about it as much as I had?
“We don’t have to wait for that arbitrary date, you know,” he said. “We can dive headfirst into this thing right now.”
Dive headfirst off a cliff into a wide-open abyss where I couldn’t see what was at the bottom? No. Absolutely not. That was a terrible fucking idea. And one that was almost guaranteed to end in my heartbreak. I’d barely survived the last one.
“I don’t think that’d be a very good idea.”
“Tell me why.”
I shrugged and averted my gaze. I couldn’t rip open my heart and bare my soul to him. So instead, I stayed quiet.
“You not attracted to me anymore?” he asked, his eyebrow raised.
