“I can’t believe you’re really here.” He finally swoops in for a hug that almost lifts me off my feet. “Jane Matthews, are you kidding me with this? Why haven’t you called me? Why didn’t you come and say hello?”
“Put me down,” I squeak as I smack his shoulder. Hudson hugs have always felt like being attacked by a very sweet bear, but I like my feet solidly on the ground these days. Besides, I’m not sure lifting me won’t strain his back. Been there, done that. My ex hobbled around for weeks while he recovered. Once was enough to destroy every fantasy I’d ever had about being fucked against a wall or in the shower.
“Sorry, Jane. It’s just... wow! How long have you been back in Chicago?”
“Six months.” I cringe internally. I’ve been the worst best friend.
“And Oliver?” His jaw tenses around my ex’s name. His shoulders tighten. The cords in his neck strain.
“He’s in London.” With two corgis and some skinny bitch who reads the weather forecast while taking off her clothes online. The funny thing is I never saw it coming. But Hudson had. He’d disliked Oliver from the start. I couldn’t understand it back then. I was happy. My best friend was supposed to be happy for me to. But he wasn’t. It’s the main reason communication between us dwindled to random texts and memes. It wasn’t like our friendship exploded or even imploded. But it was easier to avoid him than deal with his ire toward Oliver.
“Is that good?” Hudson asks. The set of his eyebrow tells me he thinks it is, but he doesn’t want to offend me.
“Yes. But it’s been hard. Moving home and starting all over again. New life. New job.” New doctors. New everything. “The only thing that’s still the same is my childhood bedroom.”
“So that was your voice when I called Brewed Nation this afternoon,” he says, swiping his gold hair back from his face. It’s a little shorter now. No longer shoulder length, but still wavy. The color richer than it once was. Matches the stubble covering his sharp and square jaw. He still wears those rubber O rings around his wrist that he used to tie it up with. “On the phone. This afternoon. I thought...” I catch the humorous cast of his lips even while he digs a hand into his pocket and angles his head to scratch the side of his neck. “I knew it was you, but I thought there’s no way you’d be in Chicago and not tell me about it.”
He’s so at ease. Unlike me. My confidence has taken hit after hit and I’m still trying to find my footing. “I’m sorry.”
I’ve always been into the neat look. Oliver was so suave in a suit with his gelled hair and silk ties, but Hudson has this surfer style that suits him down to the ground. It looks so good on him. I don’t recall ever noticing him look this good though. Is that a tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve? I lick my dry lips. “I should have told you. But if it helps I have a couple of barrels in a truck at your loading bay.”
His gaze follows mine back to the alley and lights up as it comes back to me. He lifts a hand in the air and waits for me to do the same before he slaps it lightly. He curls his strong fingers around mine and shakes them. It’s a familiar gesture. One we’ve shared a thousand times. “Hell, yes. Brewed was on to a good thing when they hired you.”
“I do my best,” I say as I follow him to the back of the truck.
The way he acts. It’s like no time has passed. Nothing has changed. We’re still the same people, hanging out and having fun. It’s the sweetest sensation. Especially since everything has changed for me. It’s his easiness that puts me at ease.
“You are the best. It would have taken Pete a solid forty-eight hours to fix the problem. Minimum.” He opens the back doors and operates the tail lift into place so he can shift the barrels out of the truck. “And he never would have guaranteed same day delivery. And here you are going above and beyond. There is no way you’re getting paid to deliver this late.”
“Well, no.” But I had my own selfish reasons for coming tonight. Even though it means I have to take the van back to the warehouse before I can even consider going home.
He rolls both barrels to the side of the service door and snags a set of keys from his pocket so he can unlock it. Then turns back to me. “Wanna stick around? Have a drink? On me.”
“I still haven’t recovered from the last time you got me to sample your experiments.” I shake my head. I still haven’t drunk vodka since that weekend in college. “And I need to get the van back.”
“Well, I better...” He glances over his shoulder into the dimly lit storage area, before staring at me once more.
“I’m going to go.” I point my thumb over my shoulder and then open the van door to climb in.
“Hey, Jane,” he calls after me.
“Yeah, Hud?” I rest my hand on the door handle, but honestly it was so good to see him, I’m glad for the opportunity to take in his face.
His eyes brighten. “Tomorrow’s Saturday.”
“Yes.” I already know where he’s going with this and that knowledges seeps into my muscles like a soothing massage. Six years might have passed. Our friendship might have been on hold. But apparently Hudson doesn’t hold a grudge. My eyes suddenly burn in the corners, and I have to blink to clear the nostalgia.
“Do you work Saturdays?”
“No.” I start to smile.
A huge grin breaks over his entire face. “Tell Harley and Alice that their favorite son will be over for breakfast, okay?”
I climb into the cab. “Okay.”
***
Saturdays were always our day.
Hud would work with his Pop at his hardware store every day after school. Sundays were for chores. But somehow every Saturday after he and his sister moved in next door, he’d rock up at my kitchen table for breakfast and he’d stay until the sun went down. We’d hang out in my room, listening to music or reading, or if the weather was nice we’d head to the park with his sister Lily or go for a run.
My parents adored him. Not quite as much as they love my brothers Cody and Justin, but I’m pretty sure at one point they were quietly rooting for me and Hudson to date, so they could claim him into our family. It was never like that with us though. We were just friends.
I pull my top over my head and toss it onto the bed with the others I’ve tried on this morning. He’ll be here any minute, and I have nothing to wear.
I don’t even know why I’m bothering going to so much effort to try and look good. It’s only Hudson. He’s seen me in my jammies plenty of time. He’s seen me in a bikini and in my bra and panties. But that was years ago. When I ran regularly. When my body didn’t jiggle. When I didn’t have scars. Before the idea of taking my clothes off for anyone became that much scarier.
Not that I’m thinking about taking my clothes off with Hudson. That’s not what I meant. Only he looks so good. I want to look good too. Like if I try hard enough on my appearance it could put us on equal footing.
Mom opens the door and slips her head through the crack. “Hey, baby.”
“Mmm.”
“Hudson’s here.” She blinks as she takes in the state of my childhood bedroom. While the band posters have been here since before I went to college, the mess is unusual for me. She settles her gray eyed gaze on me. “He filled out nicely, don’t you think?”