After a moment, Hudson sits down too, grabbing his own container and digging in.
“Why were you late this morning?” he asks.
“I overslept.”
“Do I need to get you an alarm clock?”
I want to be annoyed, but when I look at him, I can see that he means it—he’s asking out of concern.
I’m oddly touched.
“No, I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll start calling you in the morning,” he decides.
I shake my head. “I was late once!”
Hudson takes another bite of his pasta. “Now we’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
I don’t bother arguing with him. The truth is, I would love to wake up to Hudson’s voice every morning.
“What are your plans for this weekend?”
“Um, I might go see my friend.”
“Scout?”
I’m surprised he remembers her name. “Yeah.”
“What else?”
“I need to do laundry and go grocery shopping.”
He nods for me to go on.
I shrug. “Maybe read? Watch TV?”
He pauses as if he’s weighing his words.
I hold my breath, waiting to hear what he’ll ask next.
I never find out because his phone rings, making us both jump.
“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath as he answers it.
His eyes meet mine as I gather our trash and stand.
“Yes… I’m aware…” he says into the phone.
I move toward the door, my body buzzing the longer he stares at me.
Oh God! What is happening to me?
I’ve soaked through my panties, and my nipples are painful points against my bra. With each step, the lace fabric drags over the sensitized peaks, and the tension inside me tightens.
Hudson’s eyes heat, and he licks his lips. Can he tell what I’m thinking? Does he know I’m one touch away from coming?
The thought shocks me.