“Peyton,” Hudson repeated. He hadn’t known the neighbor’s name until that moment. He wasn’t sure why it mattered. A person was a person no matter what they were called, and in Hudson’s experience, most people were shit.
“Did you actually speak with him today?” Eli asked. “As in made words with your mouth in close enough proximity for him to hear them?”
Hudson dragged a hand down his face, then shook his head. “I might have.” He wasn’t eager to admit that he’d been completely taken aback by how absurdly gorgeous the man was in person.
Hudson had been just out of the shower when his doorbell rang. He hadn’t bothered rushing since he couldn’t give a single fuck about solicitors, and he had no intentions of ever speaking to any of his neighbors.
And if it was Eli, he’d just let himself in. If it was the delivery of their new product, that could sit until he was finished.
So he’d taken his time getting dressed and fixing his hair, then wheeled to the front door. Somehow, he was both surprised and unsurprised to see the neighbor still waiting for him with the little box and a familiar post-it note in his nervous, trembling hands.
But it wasn’t the poor fucker’s nerves that shook Hudson and had him rolling back on his earlier declaration that he would never speak to that man. No, what really got him was that Eli was right: Peyton was sweet. He was very obviously exasperated by Hudson’s attitude, which was only fair, but he was patient. And God help him, but he was so painfully good looking it made Hudson feel things. It was all he could do to just take the fucking brownies and shut the door in Peyton’s face, because if he hadn’t, he might have said something he’d regret.
Like—God forbid—inviting him in for coffee or beer or…whatever the hell he had in his fridge.
“And?” Eli pressed, interrupting his inner spiral. “How did it go?”
Hudson groaned and shoved at his friend who refused to be moved. “It was fine.”
“Liar,” Eli countered.
Hudson growled at him. “Okay, I was an asshole, is that what you want to hear? He was nice and waited for me as I took my sweet fucking time to answer the door. He still offered me brownies after I was rude as hell, and he did it with a smile. And yes, the brownies are delicious, and I regret throwing the other stuff away. But I’m still not interested in making friends.”
Eli turned his head and groaned into Hudson’s bicep. “But his food is sogood. Imagine what your life would be like if you could have this all the time!”
And that thought was terrifying because Hudson knew what it was like to have, and he also knew what it was like to lose. He had no room for that kind of pain anymore.
“Then you go make friends with him,” Hudson said irritably. His frustration was rising again and he knew it was mostly the fault of his bad day, but it was easy to latch on to this whole Peyton thing. “In fact, why don’t you ask him out since you seem so goddamn obsessed.”
Eli lifted his head up and fixed Hudson with a glare. “Don’t be a dick just because…” He stopped abruptly, knowing he was about to cross a line.
“Because?” Hudson pressed because he reallywasan asshole.
Eli sagged back. “I’m sorry. It’s hard watching you go through all this shit because of her.”
Hudson immediately deflated. His best friend had been one of the first people to point out what a horrible narcissist his mother was. When Eli first brought it up, Hudson had gotten angry—defensive. But that was the moment the glass has shattered and there was no way for him to unsee it. There was no way for him to stop his brain from removing the veil and forcing him to look back at his childhood, and everything she’d put him through as an adult. And there was only one way to describe it: toxic.
And abusive.
Eli had been there when he finally cut her off and had to pick up the pieces when he was forced to confront his trauma. In fact, Eli was there every time Hudson needed him, and it wasn’t fair to be an asshole to him just because his neighbor forced him to confront uncomfortable feelings.
“I don’t want to play nice with him,” Hudson said very quietly. “I don’t need any new friends. What I have right now is enough.”
“I know you think that.” Eli reached over and took Hudson’s hand. “But it might not be the worst thing. You can’t just have me and work and nothing else.”
“I have other people,” Hudson grumbled.
Eli snorted. “Other people are work people. They don’t count.”
Hudson tried not to flinch at Eli’s stark honesty, pursing his lips in irritation before letting out a heavy sigh. “Why the fuck not? Why can’t a man be happy with work friends?”
Eli laughed very softly. “Some men can, but you forget how well I know you. You’re angry and you’re hurt.” He held up his hand when Hudson’s mouth fell open to argue with him. “You’ve been hurt enough that it ruined your trust in most people, and it’s understandable. But it doesn’t change who you are at your core. You’re a good man.”
“You may be the first and only person who has ever said that to me,” Hudson said, ignoring yet another sting of truth. He had never, ever been a kind man, but he supposed Eli wasn’t talking about kindness.
“I won’t be the last.” Eli reached for his hand again, squeezing it gently when Hudson gave over. “You just have to start giving people a chance.”
“Who? The fucking baker?” Hudson grumbled.