The Fixed Trilogy: Fixed on You, Found in You, Forever With You (80 page)

He waited a beat, but then he did step back and I slid past, careful not to touch him, though every cell in my body yearned to do just that.

I managed to hold my head high as I walked away from him, even when he called after me. “I’m never giving up, Alayna. I’ll prove myself. You’ll see.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

I went into work that night to find a package with my name on it waiting in the office. “What’s this?” I asked Gwen.

“Beats me. A courier left it for you about half an hour ago. No message.” She went back to counting the money in the safe.

No way to know unless I opened it. Inside, I found a brand new Kindle. I’d never had an e-reader, but I’d used the Kindle app on my computer. I turned it on and found the device was filled with books. Flipping through them, I recognized the titles as the ones on my bookshelves in Hudson’s library. I picked up the wrapping, searching for a card, and finally found one—a simple note, handwritten:

In case you’re missing your books as much as I’m missing you. – H

I stared at the card for several minutes while I tried to quiet my pulse. He was really going to fight for me, then. The realization thrilled me. Gifts weren’t going to cut it though. I couldn’t give a shit about material items. The note—that I’d cherish.

Gwen swung the safe door shut and came to glance over my shoulder. “Ah, so lover boy’s trying to win you back.”

“Supposedly.” I tucked the note in my bra and waited for her traditional love sucks speech.

It didn’t come. “There could be worse things,” she said with more than a hint of melancholy.

It was possible she was right.

***

Sunday, a delivery service showed up at Liesl’s with a new futon mattress, much thicker and of higher quality than the old one. The card this time read:
You should be sleeping well even though I’m not. – H

I glared at Liesl. “How does he know I’m sleeping on a futon?”

She shrugged. “Maybe I said something in one of our texts.”

“You’re texting him?” Wasn’t she supposed to be on my side?

“He had your phone charger delivered the other night to the club. Guess he figured that’s why you hadn’t been responding to him. So I plugged it in and holy Jesus, Laynie, that thing was filled with texts.” She pulled her long hair over one shoulder. “Some of them made me feel a little bad for the guy. I texted him back.”

I swatted her shoulder—or more like shoved. “What the fuck?”

“I told him it was me and not you.” As if that were the reason I was pissed.

“That’s private, Liesl.”

Again she shrugged. “Someone should be reading them. That’s all I’m saying.” She turned to the deliveryman, who just walked up with his clipboard looking for a signature. She signed then looked back at me. “It’s plugged in on top of the fridge if you’re interested.”

It was much later, when I couldn’t sleep despite the comfortable new mattress, that I pulled my phone down from its hiding place. There were more than a hundred unread texts, plus a handful that had been marked read that I hadn’t seen. Apparently Liesl had only viewed some of them.

I curled up on the new futon and began reading. Like the notes he’d been sending, most were sweet, but some were sexy, others desperate. I took my time absorbing each one, intermittently crying and smiling and sometimes even laughing.

Even though I’d responded to none of them so far, each was written as if I would. I rolled my eyes at one sent earlier that day.

I ordered a futon for me as well. Maybe sleeping on it will make me feel closer to you.

And then later, after eleven p.m., he sent several in a row:

God, this sucks shit. I wasn’t sleeping before but at least I was comfortable.

I’ll continue to endeavor, though. If this is how you’re sleeping, I shall as well.

You know, we could both be together in the bed at the penthouse. If I remember correctly, the lack of sleep we got had nothing to do with the comfort of the mattress. ;)

Before I could stop myself, I shot a text back:

Hudson Pierce using an emoticon…will wonders never cease?

It was two in the morning and he responded immediately. He really
wasn’t
sleeping.

I’m hoping they don’t cease. If I ever have you in my arms again, that will certainly be a wonder. Goodnight, precious.

That night I slept with the phone next to me. Though I didn’t often reply, I read the texts he sent from then on. Each and every one.

***

The gifts continued through the week with jewelry, tickets to the symphony, and a new laptop. On the days I worked at the club, the packages would be waiting there. Obviously Hudson was still monitoring my schedule, which was both irritating and sort of a turn-on.

Thursday, though, there was nothing on my desk when I arrived. I told myself it was silly to be disappointed. He didn’t have to give me something every day to prove he was thinking about me. And I didn’t want him thinking about me all the time anyway, did I?

I was still mulling around the question, still thinking about
him
, when the club opened for the evening. Since one of the bartenders had called in sick, I stepped in to help at the upstairs bar. We were hopping before the clock even hit eleven, so I was somewhat distracted when Liesl bent near me. “Did you see the suit at the end of the bar?”

“No,” I said with a scowl. If she thought I would be interested in ogling man candy, she was wrong.

She winked. “Well, check him out then.”

I finished topping the beer mug in my hand and, against my better judgment, shot a glance to the end of the counter.

He was sitting in the same seat that he’d been in the first time I saw him, wearing the same suit, if I wasn’t mistaken.

And the way he stared at me? His eyes held the same heat as they had that night before my graduation. That burn that was more than lust, more than desire, it was possession.

Was it wrong that I smiled?

When I could finally tear myself away from Hudson’s magnetic stare, I made a Scotch, neat, and delivered it to him.

“The service here is excellent,” he said when I handed him his glass. As he took it from me, he brushed his fingers against mine.

Or had that been me that had done that?

Either way, the contact sent goose bumps running down my arms and warmth spreading through my chest. It had been so long since I’d touched him in any form. My body yearned for more while my head sent warning bells to run, run, run.

And my heart played some sort of Switzerland in the whole transaction, deciding not to make its desires clear.

With the war going on inside, I didn’t know what to do or say. I stood frozen, my gaze locked on his. It felt so good—so
right
—to do nothing but get lost in his grays. Couldn’t I find a way to do this every day of my life?

“Order!” a waitress called from down the counter.

I blinked, recovering from the trance Hudson had me in. “I have to go.” Silly to explain. I didn’t owe him anything. “Um, will you be wanting another when you’ve finished?”

“No, just the one. But I might sit here for a while, if you don’t mind.” His eyes moved down my body. “The view is stunning.”

I turned before he could see my blush.

When he left, over an hour later, he settled his bill with Liesl. I only noticed he was leaving when she handed me an envelope. “This is from the suit.”

I opened it and found a hundred dollar bill and a certificate to his spa in Poughkeepsie—the same gifts he’d given me that night in May.

“Liesl, I’ll, um, I’ll be right back.” Maybe it was because I was disappointed to see him go, but I came up with an excuse to run after him.

“Hudson!” I yelled when I found him outside headed toward the parking garage.

He stopped and waited for me to catch up.

I held the envelope out toward him. “I can’t accept this. I’m in charge here. I can’t leave for a week to go to a spa.”

It suddenly occurred to me that we hadn’t talked about my job since our break-up. “Unless you’d rather I wasn’t working here.”

“Don’t ever think that.” His tone was harsh, final. “If you think you can’t work with me as your owner, I’ll give you the club.” He would too, knowing him.

And that was definitely not a gift I could accept. “I just want to keep my job, thank you.”

He softened. “It’s yours as long as you want it.” He pushed my hand that still held the envelope back toward me. “And the certificate—keep it. You can use it anytime you want. There’s no expiration.” His fingers lingered on mine.

Was this what we’d been reduced to? Stealing touches at any opportunity possible? Making up reasons to talk?

I pulled my hand—and the envelope—away from his. “Fine. Whatever.”

A chill ran through me, though the night was warm. Frantically, I searched for something else to say. “There’s another thing.” I took a deep breath. There really was something I’d been avoiding. “I need to get my stuff from the penthouse.”

His mouth tightened. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

I ignored him. It was the easiest way to deal with statements like that. Especially when I so liked the way they sounded on his lips. “I want to come get the rest of my things Monday.”

“I can have it packed and moved for you, if you’d like.”

“I’d rather pack it myself.” If he packed, I’d end up with all sorts of things that didn’t belong to me—things he wanted me to have. As sweet as it might be, I didn’t want his gifts. I also didn’t have any room for them in the apartment with Liesl. Even if we got a two-bedroom place together as we’d been talking about doing, we couldn’t afford anything that big.

“At least let me arrange a truck.” His tone was insistent, but his eyes were pleading. It was hard to resist.

So I didn’t. “Okay. You can do that.” Only because it was going to be a pain to do it myself. And he did owe me.

“It’s done.” His lip curled up at the edge. “This doesn’t mean I’m done trying to win you back.”

“I didn’t think for a second that it did.” Though I bit back a smile, my pleasure at his declaration showed in my voice.

Hudson tilted his head to study me. “You say that as if you almost enjoy my groveling.”

I rolled my eyes and turned toward the club with a wave. But I couldn’t resist calling back over my shoulder, “I couldn’t say, H. I haven’t really seen you grovel yet.”

***

Friday and Saturday saw more gifts delivered—a coffee table book of pictures from the Poconos and concert tickets to Phillip Phillips.

“He’s, like, recalling your entire relationship with this stuff, isn’t he?” Liesl said on Sunday as I opened the box that had arrived that morning. “I hate to say it, but he’s kinda good.”

I wadded up the brown packaging paper from the box and tossed it at her. “Shut up.”

“What’s this one?”

“I don’t know yet.” I pulled out the John Legend CD I found inside and read the song list on back. I knew of the artist but had never listened to any of his music. The case wasn’t sealed so I opened it easily and found Hudson’s note.

This is the song that makes me think of you. Track 6. - H

R&B. Huh.
Hudson rarely listened to music around me. When he did, he deferred to me to choose. I didn’t even know what style he liked. Was this it?

I looked back at the song list and found track six. “
All of Me
,” I read out loud. “I don’t know it. Do you?”

“Never heard of it. Let’s stick it in.” She grinned and added her own, “That’s what she said.”

Shaking my head at her, I pulled out my new laptop, put in the disc and pushed play on the track Hudson had indicated. I leaned my head back against the futon and listened.

The song started with a haunting piano line. Then a tenor voice crooned about a beautiful woman with a smart mouth who had the singer distracted and spinning. He was a mess, but it was all good, because no matter how crazy she made him, she was still everything to him.

It was the chorus that had me in tears, when he sang about
“all of me”
loving
“all of you”
and offered to give all of himself to her in exchange for the same.

Sure, it was just a song, but if it really held the message that Hudson meant for me to hear, well, I couldn’t help but hear it loud and clear. If he could really give all of himself to me—no more walls, no more secrets—then what was left holding us back? The past?

But my own history was imperfect. I’d even shown him my flaws on more than one occasion. He’d forgiven me and stuck around. Fixed me and found me and made me whole.

And now…

Not saying a word when I set the song to repeat, Liesl sat next to me and pulled me to her shoulder.

“Liesl, I don’t care anymore,” I sobbed into her shirt. “Even if I shouldn’t be with him, I can’t live without him. He makes me feel better about me. I don’t care anymore about what he did in the past. I only care that he’s around in my future.”

She rocked me back and forth. “No one’s telling you what you should or shouldn’t do here. Either way, you got my support.”

“Good, because I think I’m going to give him another chance.” I wasn’t quite sure what that chance would be yet—dinner? A date? Lots of dates?

That was a decision for tomorrow.

***

Though I didn’t have a lot to pack up from the penthouse, I wanted to get started on it early enough in the day that we’d be long gone before Hudson arrived home from work. Getting Liesl anywhere before noon, however, proved difficult.

“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.