“Maybe I could join you later,” she said, burying her head in her pillow at my first attempt to drag her out of bed.
“But I need you the whole time,” I whined. “Please?”
The pleading worked, but she tried again to get out of going as we were getting in the cab. Then at The Bowery, she suggested that she make a coffee run and join me later.
“There’s a beautiful Keurig inside. Best coffee ever. I’ll make you as many mugs as you want.” Maybe Liesl wasn’t really big on packing.
“Fine.”
It was much easier to go inside the building with Liesl along. As we went up in the elevator, I wrapped my arm around hers, grateful for the support. Though I hadn’t been living there for two weeks, moving out was big. It reeked of finality. And with my recent decision to let Hudson back in my life in some way, I wasn’t quite looking for finality. I needed Liesl to talk me out of anything stupid.
Like deciding to leave my stuff there and not move out.
When the door opened to the apartment, I waited for Liesl to step out first. She didn’t move so I went ahead of her. I turned around and put my hand on the side to keep the elevator open. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Uh…” her eyes grew wide. Then she pushed my arm out of the door and pressed a button on the call panel. “Don’t hate me!” she called as the doors shut.
What the fuck? I heaved a frustrated air of breath out of my lungs and closed my eyes. Either Liesl had somewhere else she wanted to be or she had something up her sleeve. And if it was the latter, there was no doubt Hudson was involved.
Might as well find out what was up.
I opened my eyes and peered around the corner of the foyer toward the living area. It was empty. Not just empty as in no Hudson, but empty as in no furniture. None. I wandered into the room to be sure I wasn’t going crazy.
Well, if I were going crazy, the delusion I was having was of an apartment with no furniture. I glanced at the dining room. Also empty. Strangely, the place didn’t feel any more cold and lonely than it had when I’d been there the last time. But the emptiness put me off. I couldn’t understand what it meant. Was my stuff gone as well?
I backtracked and pushed the door open to the library. This room was only mostly empty. The sofa and desk and all the rest of the furniture were gone, but the shelves still contained all my books and movies. The books I’d pulled that Celia had marked were gone from the floor, but several boxes were stacked against the wall.
I walked toward the stack, intending to peek in and see if the books were there, but it was sealed.
“Those are new books.”
Ah, there he is.
I turned slightly to find Hudson leaning in the doorframe. Again he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Dammit, he hadn’t even planned on going to work if he was dressed like that. And he looked extra yummy. Somehow he had arranged that as well, I was sure of it.
He nodded again at the box I was still touching. “They’re for you. To replace the ones that had been damaged.”
“Oh,” I said. Then I frowned.
“What is it?”
“I have nowhere to put all these.” I hadn’t intended to take them. They were beautiful and I loved them, but in New York City, that many books were a luxury.
He sighed softly and I could tell the rejection of his gift hurt, no matter what the reason. But all he said was, “I’ll keep them for as long as you want me to.”
“Thank you.” I caught myself scanning his body. It was impossible not to. He was so good-looking, and I missed him so much. Though I’d planned my move on a day that he wouldn’t be around, I was happy to see him. Elated, actually.
I wondered if he could see that in my smile. “I didn’t expect you to be here.” I’m so glad you are.
“You didn’t say I couldn’t be.”
“It was implied,” I teased.
He caught my eyes with his. “You don’t seem that horribly pissed to see me.”
God, the butterflies were stirring in my belly. Not the tug of fixation that used to make me act crazy, but the twitters I felt only with Hudson. It had confused me when I first felt it those months ago, but now I recognized it for what it was—a combination of nerves and excitement and attraction and anticipation. It was such a gloriously delicious feeling.
Surprisingly, it eclipsed the still fresh wounds from his betrayal.
Still, I was scared. And I didn’t know what he was up to. His stuff was gone from the apartment. I didn’t like what that had to mean. What did it mean? “Where is everything?”
His lips drew tight. “Your stuff is still all here.”
“But where’s your stuff?”