Promise Me (Asher Family #1)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

SADIE

I made a small list of items to grab from my house yesterday, and running shoes were at the top of the list. But when I went to grab them, I couldn’t find them.

So I checked the app on my phone that links with my watch to see what my current stats are and learned that I haven’t run outside in months. Months.

Last thing I remember, I had a half marathon at the end of the summer that I’ve been training for.

So much for that.

I roll over in Hudson’s bed.

Looks like I’ll need to wait for the gym to open and then find out if I have the same locker. I bet that’s where my shoes are.

It’s four in the morning again, but I don't plan on sneaking down to the bakery today.

I blow out a breath.

What was my routine like?

My brain says to wake up, run, cook egg whites and spinach on gluten-free toast, and head to the bank to see if my loan for the corner space was approved .

It’s all very specific.

But the corner space is now a bar—a fully functioning bar that is actually pretty nice to hang out at.

Ugh, and this apartment.

I toss the covers off and move to the window.

The bedroom view is just as amazing as the view from the balcony off Hudson’s kitchen that looks over Main Street.

From this view, you can see the mountains behind the lodge, Lovers Lake at the base, and the cabins to the left. The homes in Lovers Hopefuls have almost doubled, but there weren’t very many to begin with, so I guess it’s okay. My small town is still small—but different.

I used to like different.

Today, not so much.

It still beats being at home, though. Sleeping and waking up in a room that’s mine but isn’t because I don’t recognize anything in it is weird. Walking around the house looking at pictures of memories I don’t have sucks. Watching my dad and brother look at me as if I am this fragile girl who might break at any moment and listening to them start a conversation around me only to cut it short because they don’t want to upset me hurts. As if the only way they know how to help me is to keep me locked up. They wouldn’t. Not for long, but I still can’t do it.

I’d rather wake up here where the idea that it's a strange place makes sense to me. With a person whose only memories of me are … less emotionally attached.

How mad would Hudson be if I just went to the kitchen to make breakfast?

Considering he got home about four hours ago, he probably wouldn’t be impressed.

I still can’t believe he’s back in Lovers.

I thought for sure he’d be a lifer away from this place. The talent he had for hockey was on another level. His dedication was just as intense. His parents drove him multiple nights a week to a different town for practices, and when others were spending the weekend partying, he was skating.

I think that’s why I'd always told myself that if he came back, I'd make amends. I didn’t think he’d ever actually do it.

I sit back on the bed, glancing around his room.

His room is bare. He doesn’t have any pictures in here other than one of him with his brothers, parents, and his baby sister Ruby when she was still in a diaper.

I pick it up, and my gaze falls to his mom.

She died when he was a senior in high school. She was sick like my mom, but her cancer was more aggressive and came out of nowhere. They got her diagnosis and said their goodbyes all in five months. I spent five years with my mom after we found out. It doesn’t make it easier, but I was luckier than him.

I set the photo down and look at my phone.

I’m still not supposed to look at it for longer than a phone call here or there, but I need to know more than Hudson told me yesterday.

I grab the phone, set a five-minute timer, and pull up the Internet.

I type his name in. It’s not like he’s going to burst in here and catch me, but I still hunch over as if I don’t want anyone to see what I’m doing.

A few articles pop up, but I need more specifics, so I type in Hudson Asher hockey injury .

Another round of articles pops up, but the first headline reads Hudson Asher Loses It All, Fame, Skill, His Team, and His Girlfriend.

I hover my thumb over it, but then toss my phone to the end of the bed.

I know it’s out there for all to read, but it’s not their story to tell .

Should I try to go back to sleep or just bite the bullet and go to the bakery? I opened it for a reason. Maybe if I go back there enough, that reason will come back to me.

I pick sleeping, but just as my head hits the pillow, my alarm blares so loudly that I’m pretty sure it wakes up the entire block.

Who the hell turned that on?

My heart practically beats out of my chest as I fumble with the phone. Of course, in a moment like this, it’s as if I’ve never used a phone in my life.

Lucky for me, even though it’s a newer phone than I last remember, the manufacturer keeps the layout the same.

I blow out a breath when the beeping finally shuts off.

But then there’s a knock at my bedroom door, and my heart races in a whole new way.

I open it to find a shirtless, sleepy, messy-haired Hudson on the other side, leaning on the doorframe with a yawn. It’s a lot to take in, but his bright gaze hits mine, and he smirks.

“Is this going to be a daily thing?”

“What?”

“Waking up early and attempting to sneak out. Because I have to tell you, Sadie, you’re not very sneaky.”

I let out a bubble of laughter.

“I wasn’t going to sneak out today—or well, I hadn’t decided yet. I wake up, but that's not what my brain tells me to do.”

He studies me for a moment.

“What does it tell you to do?”

“Wake up, work out, find a bunch of books to buy, and then research how to file a liquor license.”

Now he’s looking at me like I’ve gone mad.

“I had plans three years ago that never happened,” I say to clear it up for him.

He lets out his breath .

“All right, it’s still dark. Do you want to change, and we can go work out, or do you want to go to the bakery?”

“We?”

He nods. “I’m fully aware that you can do all these things on your own, but let’s wait till it’s been a least one-week post hospital at least, yeah?”

I want to argue, but I don’t.

He’s protective like my brother was, but this is different. Instead of keeping me locked up, he wants me to do what I want, just not alone.

I can compromise with that.

“Don’t you want to sleep?”

His left shoulder lifts as he walks into his room, opens a dresser drawer, and takes out a shirt. He pulls it over his head and nods.

His every movement captivates me.

“I’m off today and tomorrow. I can sleep later.”

“You’re off all day?”

“Yeah, it’s Saturday.”

I suck in a breath.

Saturday.

In my head, today is Mom’s funeral.

“Are you okay?” he asks, stepping toward me and bending at his knees a little to meet me at eye level. “Sadie?”

“Yes.” I pull myself together. “Let’s get coffees and then go work out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I repeat. “I just need to change and get my shoes from the gym. When do they open?”

His eyes start at my bare legs, slowly gliding up my body. They pause briefly at my boy shorts and then again at my tank top. It’s as if he hasn’t noticed my outfit until this moment.

It’s June in Wyoming, and it’s warm out. I can’t sleep with layers, and I also didn’t expect him to come in here before I put my day clothes on.

“Right. Shit. Sorry, I shouldn’t have just barged in here, and they open at five.”

He quickly moves to the door.

“It’s your apartment, Hudson. You don’t need to apologize.”

He only nods, and then he walks out.

I quickly pull on some leggings and swap my tank top for a T-shirt. I brush out my hair and step into the bathroom, which has two doors: one to the bedroom and one to the living room. I wash my face, add some mascara, and brush my teeth.

When I step into the living room, Hudson is sitting on the couch, looking at his phone.

“Ready,” I say.

He stands and walks to the door.

“I thought we were having coffee?” I ask.

“We are, but I don't have any here.”

“What? How do you not have coffee here?”

“There is a shop right downstairs that makes way better coffee than I do.”

I fold my arms and smile. “Are you complimenting me?”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

I chuckle and then follow him down the stairs.

“This place really is neat. I wanted to live here once upon a time.”

“Where? In Lovers?”

“No, your apartment. Last I knew, it was empty and vacant, and I was ready to move out of my parents’ house.”

He stops on the stairs to turn and look at me.

I can’t decipher the gaze he gives me, but the wrinkle between his eyes says he’s thinking a little too hard.

But I don’t say anything else, and he shakes his head, and we make our way to the bakery .

I let us in, and we make coffee. I don’t get as emotional as I did yesterday, but even as we hang out, nothing comes back to me on why I did this.

Why would I choose the bakery over my own dream?

“Ready?” Hudson asks, handing me my coffee.

“Would I bask in this?”

“In what?”

“You serving me instead of the other way around?”

He lets out a deep laugh.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Good.”

Our eyes meet, and I can’t help but decide that I like being friends with him a lot more than I like fighting.

We walk out the back door, and Hudson turns left.

“Isn’t the gym this way?”

“We aren’t going to the gym.”

“What? I thought we were working out.”

“We are going for a walk first.”

He’s steps ahead of me, so I jog a little in my flats to catch up.

Just Sadie and Hudson, walking down Main Street, sipping their coffee.

I giggle.

“I’m thinking it, too,” Hudson says. “It’s probably good that the sun is just now coming up, and most people aren’t awake yet.”

“They’d be taking photos like we were royalty walking around. So,” I start and catch him shaking his head. “What?”

“You talk a lot.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“You knew that, though. ”

“No, I knew we fought a lot, and you always had to have the last word, but you like just talking in general. ”

“Or maybe I’m just trying to make up for lost time.”

“I’ll give you that.”

I have so many things I want to ask him, but I don’t. I’m not silent now because he said something about it; I’m just not sure what to say first.

What do we fight the most about? What’s it like being back? Did his girlfriend try to move here with him? Does he still skate? Why didn’t I open my own business?

There are more things I want to know, but those are at the top of the list.

The silence that settles between us isn’t weird. It feels natural, as if I’ve been hanging out with him my entire life. In a way, I have, but I’m starting to wonder if I missed out.

When we reach the end of the road, he slows, then picks some flowers from Mrs. Rogers's rosebushes.

“What are you doing?”

“We need flowers,” he says matter-of-factly.

“For what?”

He points ahead of us with the red roses in his hand. “Your mom.”

My gaze snaps to the cemetery. I hadn’t even noticed this was where we were walking.

Tears fill my eyes.

“In your mind, you were going to say goodbye to her today, so it makes sense that you come to see her and tell her everything you wanted to say back then.”

He hands me the flowers. “You buy much nicer ones, but you leave these from time to time from here.”

I swallow the lump in my throat.

“Hudson, this … ”

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just thought you might like to— shit , I don’t know.”

I let out what sounds like a laugh-cry mixture. “It’s perfect.”

I take the flowers from him, and he leads the way. He shows me which one is her stone, and then he takes a few steps back to give me privacy. He walks down another row. That one, I know, has his mom.

When he’s far enough away not to hear me, I squat in front of Mom's gravestone and lay the flowers down, swapping them with faded and dry ones.

I let myself cry for a moment. How do I do this? What do I say?

Hudson made it sound like I come here often. How often?

I clear my throat.

“I have so much I want to tell you,” I whisper. “But right now, even when I should be focusing on myself and trying to regain my memory, I can think of only one thing.”

I smile.

“You’d be so proud, Mom. I did it. I finally became friends with Hudson.”