He almost smiled, but squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to reign in his emotions. When he opened them again, they were pleading. “Alayna, don’t quit. Don’t quit me.”

I looked away, knowing how easy it would be to give in if I kept staring into those gray eyes. “Hudson, I have to. Not because of this, well, not only because of this, but because of my past. I’m not well enough to be with someone who has his own issues.”

Truthfully, I didn’t know if I was well enough to be with anyone.

“You are, Alayna. You only tell that to yourself because you’re scared.”

That drew me to face him. “I should be scared. It’s not safe. For either of us. You should be scared, too.”

He let out a heavy breath. When he spoke again, he was resigned, as if he didn’t expect his words to make a difference yet he spoke them anyway. “I don’t believe that. I think spending time with another person who has similar compulsive tendencies can provide insight and healing.”

I leaned my head back against the seat and stared at the car’s ceiling. I wanted to believe like he did—that we could make each other better. But I couldn’t. All I’d witnessed and experienced in my life around addicts told me otherwise. Besides, if he’d wanted me around him to confide in and give some understanding, he should have told me his secrets from the beginning. And he hadn’t.

As much as it pained me, I had to break things off. I had to do the right thing once and for all.

But there were my own financial woes. As irrelevant as money might have seemed at the moment, being able to keep my job at the club had an enormous impact on my own mental well-being. “I won’t quit.” I turned to face him. “But I can’t have a relationship with you, Hudson.” My throat felt tight, but I kept on. “All I can give you is the fake. I have to protect myself here.” I should have ended all of it, but I didn’t have the strength for that. This had to enough.

Hudson’s shoulders lowered slightly. “I understand.” He nodded as if to reaffirm that he understood, making me suspect that he didn’t understand at all but was accepting my decision anyway. “Thank you.” He straightened, his poise returning, and I knew that he was back to his regular confident self.

I had one more thing to say, though. I leaned toward him, placing my hand firmly on his knee. “Hudson, you’re not broken.”

His expression faltered briefly, his eyes cast downward. When they rose again I saw them pass my exposed cle**age. His brow rose. “What are you...? Is that...?”

I looked down to see what he saw. The corset. Damn, I’d forgotten. A familiar tug of desire formed low in my belly, followed by a more painful ache in my chest. “Yes. I’d worn it for you.”

He sighed. “Wow. That was…that was very thoughtful of you.”

We still wanted each other, and it would be so easy to let that want rule us.

But I was stronger than that. I could be stronger than that. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. I am, too.” His eyes lingered on mine for a moment, before he shifted gears entirely. “This may be poor timing, but I need to get back to my mother’s show.”

“Sure.”

“And since you’re supposed to be sick, you will need to go home.”

I listened as he ordered Jordan to drive toward my apartment.

“When is our next show, boss?” I asked, half praying the answer was soon, knowing that the more time before I saw him again, the better.

“I’m not sure. I have to fly to Cincinnati tonight.” He pursed his lips. “And I am not your boss.”

“Cincinnati? Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight. I have a meeting first thing in the morning. My jet’s leaving early evening.” A private jet. Of course. “I’ll text you later to arrange the Hamptons. We’ll leave Friday afternoon.”

“So you’ll be gone all week?” I don’t know why I asked. It shouldn’t have mattered.

“I’m not sure yet.”

“Oh.” He already felt distant, like he’d already gone. I turned my head to hide the tears that were filling my eyes.

The car pulled over to the side of the road. I looked out the tinted window and saw we were in front of my apartment. Jordan got out of the car, and shortly after, my door opened.

I didn’t want to get out. It felt awkward and awful—my second sort-of-not-at-all break-up in a week. Why did this one hurt so dang much?

Without looking back at Hudson, I stepped out of the car.

“Alayna.” He called me just as I stood fully. I pasted on a fake smile and ducked my head back in. “Thank you for today. I think you’ve truly made an impression on my mother. Good work.”

I stayed at the curb until Jordan had shut the door and gotten back into the car. A shiver ran through me, despite the hot summer day. Wrapping my arms around myself, I headed up to the small studio apartment that felt big for all the loneliness it held.

At my door I found a bag of gourmet coffee and I dissolved into tears, completely melted by his gesture. My elastic band lie. Hudson never missed a beat. I wracked my brain trying to figure out when he had arranged to have it delivered, and realized it had to be before the limo conversation. It was a sweet gesture. I wondered if he wished he hadn’t done it now.

Whether he regretted it or not, it gave me an excuse to reach out to him once more. I pulled out my phone and typed a carefully thought out text. “Thanks for the coffee. And for everything else.”

It was a goodbye to the great whatever it was we’d had, fleeting as it was. I needed the closure. Maybe he did, too.

I pushed send and had a moment of panic, wondering if I’d done the right thing by ending our relationship, wondering if I could undo it, praying that his response would show me he was having the same doubts as I was.

But Hudson didn’t respond at all.

Chapter Thirteen

I stalked Hudson online again that night.

Not because I felt I needed to learn more about him, but because the distance between us felt so overwhelmingly vast. It was a familiar feeling, one I’d felt with guys I’d dated only to discover later, in therapy, that I’d been overreacting. But this was different. We were apart for real, not only in my psycho head. And I couldn’t bear it. I had to get closer to him in whatever way I could, even if it was only via the Internet.

There were already new blog posts and news feeds from the fashion show. The event had great reviews, and more money had been raised than projected. I flicked through the pictures of models, a little wistful that I had missed that part of the day. And there were pictures of me with Hudson, kissing outside the limo when we were on our way in. I stared at those the longest, saving one particularly close shot as my wallpaper desktop.