“It happened spontaneously,” I said, as Kel jumped up and offered Hudson his chair. The sudden movement woke the chicken, who’d been dozing on the wedding invitations.
Hudson murmured an embarrassed, “Thank you,” to Kel and colored slightly as he glanced at him and quickly looked away. Then he carefully lowered himself onto the chair and put his crutches on the floor beside him.
Kel seemed flustered, and he blurted, “You should keep your foot elevated,” before dashing from the room. He returned moments later, awkwardly pushing an ottoman from the nearest guest room, which he positioned in front of Hudson.
“You didn’t have to go through all that trouble, but thank you,” Hudson mumbled, as he swung his leg with the cast onto the ottoman.
Kel turned pink and told him, “It was no trouble. Really.” It was so obvious they both had a crush on each other. I wondered which of them would crack first and make a move.
After Kel squeezed into the other chair with Buddy, an awkward pause hung in the air. Finally, I blurted, “I’m fucking starving. Anyone else? I’m not sure if I’m feeling brave enough for whatever vegan sushi is, though.”
“Oh hell no, I’m not eating that,” Hudson said, as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his black basketball shorts. The motion made his enormous biceps flex, and it seemed for a moment like Kel might start drooling. “I saw what the chef’s planning, and it’s seaweed wrapped around brown rice and kale. I kid you not. I’m going to order lunch for the three of us. I know my coach wants me to eat healthy, but there are limits.” He started scrolling through his phone, and after a moment he muttered, “I want cake. To hell with my diet, I’m going to treat myself.” He’d never reminded me more of his brother.
After an indulgent lunch of Mexican food and cupcakes, Kel left to take the dogs for a walk, and Hudson went to hide in one of the guest rooms while I tried to go back to work. My concentration was shot, though. The barely muffled sound of dance music with its thumping bass made it impossible to forget a party was going on, so after a while I went ahead and opened the blinds.
Harper was completely in his element. A crowd had gathered around him, and he was animatedly telling a story while gesturing with the drink in his hand. His guests hung on every word, and when he finished he was met with uproarious laughter and applause.
He was truly something special. Not only was he a natural leader, he was also the most beautiful and charismatic person in any crowd. Even that one, which was comprised entirely of exceptionally beautiful people.
What the hell was he doing with me? Seriously. It was as if life had presented him with an endless, sumptuous buffet, and he’d selected a dry piece of wheat toast. Okay, so I could see why someone might want wheat toast once in a while, but not three meals a day, and definitely not forever. And yes, I seriously needed to bail out of that analogy, even though it was pretty apt.
I sighed and rested my head on my arms, which were folded on the desk. It had been crazy to think I could just go with the flow and enjoy my time with Harper, however long it lasted. That wasn’t me. I was cautious to my core, the exact opposite of a risk-taker. I was also the guy who overthought everything and always had to have a plan. No wonder this thing with Harper was so tough for me.
It didn’t help that I’d been rejected countless times in my life. My entire career was one long story of rejection, and that had trained me to expect failure. It felt like it was woven into my DNA at this point. Nothing worked out for me, not my career, any of my hopes and dreams, not a damn thing. Why would this situation with Harper be any different?
He’d move on, and I’d get hurt. Even with that assumption, I’d underestimated just how attached I’d get, and how quickly. I was developing real feelings for him, and they were getting stronger by the day. How could I stick this out, knowing I was setting myself up to be totally devastated?
It was cowardly to cut and run. I knew that, but it felt like a matter of self-preservation.
By the time Harper burst into the office sometime later, I’d succeeded in pretty thoroughly depressing myself. Meanwhile, he was all sunshine and energy, and he exclaimed, “I miss you!” Loco was standing on my desk, pecking at a scrap of tortilla I’d saved her from lunch, and she and I both turned to look at him.
I said, “I honestly have no idea if you’re talking to me or the chicken.” Loco also seemed confused. Not that that was anything new.