Found in You(83)

It was when we were in the penthouse and the quiet between us persisted that I realized it wasn’t only me lost in my head. Hudson had disappeared inside his head too. It wasn’t unusual for him to be quiet and within himself—that was the man I’d first met and been drawn to. But even when I’d seen him consumed with his work, he always had a sliver of his attention pinned to me. Though subtle, it was unmistakable.


Tonight was different. We exited the elevator and without a word, Hudson immediately headed to the library. I trailed after him, unsure. Though he hadn’t been home since the arrival of the books, he didn’t even give them a glance. He beelined to his desk, threw his jacket across the back of his chair and sat down.

Without looking at me, he said, “I have some work to do. It will likely be a late night. I don’t expect you to wait up.”

“Oh. All right.” There was more shock to my tone than hurt. We’d never been alone and not all over each other. It was…strange.

For several seconds, I stood frozen, not knowing what I should do. Then common sense kicked in. “Do you need anything? A nightcap, perhaps?”

He sifted through some papers on his desk, furrowing his brow at one of them. “I may make myself a Scotch later.” Then he turned to his computer and was gone from me.

I could make him a Scotch. I wanted to, actually, because then I’d feel needed, wanted. Like I had a purpose in being there.

But Hudson’s tone was definitive. He didn’t want me to serve him, for whatever reason, and even if I ignored him and got him his drink, I knew already that he wouldn’t acknowledge it. Probably wouldn’t even notice.

I made him the drink anyway, leaving it on the corner of his desk. He saw me, I knew he did. But like I suspected, he didn’t respond.

He’d gone somewhere, somewhere far away. Somewhere he was unwilling to take me.

I slipped away to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, still unmade from the night before. Hudson Pierce, obscenely rich and powerful, and he didn’t even have someone who came in to make his bed daily.

Trivial thought, but it was what crossed my mind first.

Then the questions swept in, the constant examination that my mind never seemed to tire of. What had triggered this distant mood of Hudson’s? Had it been the last conversation with his mother? The night in general?

Maybe he simply had work to do. He’d expected me to be at The Sky Launch all night. He hadn’t planned to entertain me. And I shouldn’t have expected that he should. We’d found each other, but that didn’t mean the rest of our lives stopped. We still had things to do, responsibilities. Especially a man such as him.

I was sure it wasn’t me, it wasn’t us. He’d claimed me, the last time only two short hours before. I was his. His mood wasn’t because of me.

As further proof, if I needed it, he’d brought me to his place when he could have easily taken me to my own. He wanted me there, even if he couldn’t let himself be with me entirely. I knew that. Knew.

I took a deep breath, letting my tense muscles relax as I exhaled.

Then I let go.

Let go of all of it—the thoughts, the worries, the doubts. I wasn’t doing psycho. Not anymore. No more obsessing. No more examining. Just let go.

Clarity settled in. People got moody. I was still practically a stranger to Hudson’s life, relationships were new to both of us—I couldn’t expect either of us to be perfect at communicating with each other. We had to learn, and that took time.

We had time.

I stared at the empty doorway, considering what to do with myself. Watch TV? Or read a book? There were plenty to choose from. I could join Hudson in the library, work on unpacking the books.