I head for the refrigerator, opening it to put the pie away, and just before I close it, I grab us both a beer. I feel like we both could use a drink right about now.
I pop the cap and slide him his, wordlessly, and settle at his side. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak, but I feel his eyes on me as I pop my cap and take a long sip.
“Why?” I ask carefully, trying to hold back the emotions.
For a moment, I think he’s not going to answer me. Or worse, tell me to fuck off.
I shift next to him, my arm brushing his. When he shifts a little closer, I feel a sense of relief.
“Why, what?” he bites.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, picking at the label of my beer.
Hudson takes a long drink of his beer.
“Is it because you don’t trust me?” I ask, the bitterness and hurt forcing its way out of my mouth.
“No,” he says plainly, shifting away from me. I should let him go, but I can’t.
It’s like a compulsion, a desperate need to feel his skin against mine, his warmth. And something tells me he needs it, too.
So I move toward him, even as he walks away.
“Hudson…” I call out.
He shakes his head, heading for his living room.
“Hudson!” my voice elevates as my pace picks up to catch him. I’m not letting him get away.
Not now.
Not ever.
“Answer me!” I call out as I all but chase him down the hall. He heads for his bedroom, moving to slam the door in my face, but I catch it with my free hand and push it back.
“Hudson—” I grab his arm, and he turns around to throw me off. I see the beginnings of tears in his eyes, the familiar set in his jaw.
It reminds me of when I surprised him at work. How he’d turned into someone else instantly.
But we got through that, and we can get through this, too. I’m sure of it.
More sure than I’ve been about anything in a long time.
“What?” he snaps. “What do you want me to say, Trey?”
“How about the truth?” I ask, stepping closer.
“Why? What’s the point? Why does it matter?” His words are cold, harsh.
“Because that’s what best friends do.”
Hudson laughs, but it’s not sweet or fun. It’s drenched in sarcasm and bitterness.
Then he turns around, his gaze finds mine across the divide between us.
I take another step toward him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask again, almost begging.
