Promise Me (Asher Family #1)

Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

HUDSON

“A good old time,” I say into my empty living room as another letter flips around on my TV screen.

I shake my head as the man spins the wheel again.

He’s only missing the “O” and has plenty of money to buy a vowel, yet he just went and landed on bankruptcy.

Figures.

I eat a bite of the spaghetti I made for dinner and lean back on my couch. Then someone knocks on my door.

I don’t bother grabbing a shirt because there are only four people it could be; Linc, Luca, Miles, or my dad.

Since it’s unannounced and Linc is busy, I’m guessing one of my brothers is bored.

It’s weird they are knocking, though.

I swing the door open and almost stumble back at the caramel eyes staring back at me.

“Hi,” Sadie says and lets out a breath.

I just gape at her as if she’s some thug who walked up to my door holding a knife and demanded I give her all my prized possessions .

What the hell is she doing here?

I adjust my stance, widening my legs and crossing my arms.

She smirks.

She fucking smirks.

Sadie Collins does not smirk. Ever.

“Can I come in?” she asks.

“Why?”

She doesn’t answer right away, but she, too, crosses her arms.

“Your warm welcome only reassures me that this is exactly where I need to be.”

I think over my words carefully. I’m pretty sure assuming she hit her head much harder than we all imagined isn’t right. But how else do we explain that she thinks coming to my place is where she needs to be?

I should call Linc.

“By all means, please take your time to decide.”

She leans against my doorframe, and my gaze slowly drinks her in.

Her hair is pulled into a messy bun on her head. She isn’t wearing any makeup. Her loose T-shirt and cotton shorts hit her midthigh, and her green slip-on sneakers cover her feet. She doesn't have a purse or anything else in her hands.

And she’s scowling.

“Come on, Hudson, let me in.”

Rejection is on the tip of my tongue, but I promised her brother I wouldn’t fight with her, so instead of telling her no, I step back to give her space.

Her shoulders drop.

“Thank you,” she says and walks past me, a flowery scent floating trailing behind her. I breathe deep, my heart pounding inside my chest.

What the fuck is that ?

I shut the door, watching her move to the couch. Slowly, so as not to draw attention to the rabid animal in my apartment, I move toward my kitchen, where my phone sits.

“Let me guess, you’re going to text my brother.”

I freeze.

He did tell me to, but that’s not why I’m doing it.

“We both know he’ll freak out the moment he notices you aren’t in your house.”

“How do you know he didn’t tell me to leave?”

I let out a huff of laughter. “Yeah, okay. Linc Collins told his little sister, who hates me, to go to my apartment. That makes total sense.”

She rolls her eyes at me and then lies down on my couch, pulling the white fleece blanket my sister got me for my birthday last year off the back of the sofa and over her body, curling up like she plans to stay.

“I don’t care what you say to him, but …”

I hold my phone in my hands, my thumb hovering over what I should text him as I wait for her to finish her sentence.

“I need space, and I came here because you’re the one person I know isn’t going to baby me or try to remind me of anything.”

I swallow, the pain in her voice hitting my chest harder than I anticipated.

I’ll never forget the questions after my injury. It was like everyone expected me to have a plan from the moment I was released from the hospital. Are you staying in Washington? Are you going to find a way to stay with the team? Do you think you’ll get a new job?

I didn’t have a single answer; I only wanted some space to figure it out.

I type out a quick message.

Hudson

Sadie just showed up at my door. I know you’re going to be pissed, but she’s fine. She’s resting on the couch. Just let her stay here for a bit.

Linc

What the hell?

Three dots appear.

Linc

Yeah, she’s not in her room.

I shake my head.

Hudson:

Obviously.

Linc:

I’ll come get her.

Hudson:

Don’t.

I send the one-word text in a rush.

Hudson

She’s fine. I know our history, but I promise you, she’s fine.

Linc

She needs to rest, drink water, and be in her room. For the love of God, tell me she isn’t watching Wheel of Fortune right now.

I clear my throat, move to grab the remote, and turn my TV off.

Hudson

She’s not.

“Now I know for sure you texted my brother.”

I ignore her and go back to the kitchen as if that gives us enough space from the other.

Linc

I don’t like this.

Hudson

I’ll text you if I think you need to come get her.

Linc

Don’t fight with her.

Linc

Get her some water.

Linc

I don't think she’s eaten.

Linc

No screens, either.

The little dots appear again, and I grumble what I think is a quiet fuck , but Sadie laughs.

“You get why I left now, don’t you?”

I set my phone down, ignoring the fact it just keeps beeping with notices of new messages.

“He’s just worried.”

“I’m still an adult, though.”

I nod. “Yeah. You are.”

The silence between us thickens. I’m about to head into my room when I hear what sounds like sniffling.

Like before, I freeze.

I’ve been exposed to all the versions of this woman, but the side of her that cries is the one I’m unfamiliar with.

I force the lump in my throat down and tread slowly to the living room.

She quickly swipes at her tears.

“Don’t tell Linc,” she says quietly.

“I won’t, but to be fully transparent, I need you to stop doing that.” I point at her, and she peers up at me.

“Stop what?”

“Crying. It makes me uncomfortable.”

Her eyes have taken on a bright gold tone now as she wipes another teardrop, never taking her gaze off me.

Then she laughs.

Full-on belly laughs.

I step back .

“Coming here was exactly what I needed, thank you.”

I look everywhere but at her. I’m not heartless or someone who doesn’t understand emotion but fuck all right now if I’m lost on what to say or do next.

“Okay” is all I come up with.

“I’m sleeping right here too. No arguing.”

I nod.

As I said, I know our history, but I’m not a dick.

“I’ll change my sheets, and you can sleep in my room. Give me five minutes.”

“I’m not taking your bed.”

“You’re taking my bed, or I call your brother.”

Her left brow peaks.

“You just went right for it, huh, no pity?”

“None.”

A smile touches her lips, just like earlier, so I walk away.

I typically always know what to do and say to Sadie. We have our own thing, our own version of a relationship, but smiling at each other has never been a part of it.

Which is why I wait to let myself smirk where she can’t see it.