Soulmates are Overrated

Chapter Ten

"Where were you?" I repeat, frustration laced in every word.

He expects me to back down, but I won't.

"I just got tied up," he wrings his hands together and I hope it's because he's anxious. I hope every word I say is affecting him.

"That's really what you want to go with right now?"

His eyes dart across my face, searching for something. I make sure to keep every feature still. He straightens and I know it's because he's realized that I'm not buying his act. "I was busy, okay? I don't need to explain myself to you." His voice rises, but it's not a yell.

He's right. He doesn't need to explain himself to me. I'm not his mother, and I'm not his wife, but I can't help being disappointmented.

I drop back into my seat, not necessarily backing down, but not having the energy to continue. Maybe I can pry it out of him later.

"The meeting didn't go as expected. Not in the slightest." I admit.

Hudson sits in the chair across from me.

There's this awkward tension between us, and I'm not sure if it was from the unfinished argument or if it's all just in my head. Either way, I can't wait for this conversation to be over.

I continue, "They said our ideas are a good start, but we don't have 'the spark.' Our pitch doesn't provide the hope for someone to find their soulmate."

He takes a moment to roll the information around in his head. His eyebrows meet. His face wrinkles in concentration. The blue pools of his eyes have settled from their frustration into something calmer. His gaze moves slowly and meets mine, a smirk spreading across his lips.

Shit. I dart my eyes around the room as a heat creeps up my spine.

"Like what you see?"

I curse myself for even taking the time to admire his stupid features. Rolling my eyes, "you mean the disheveled mess that is your appearance? Yeah, you're more of an eye sore than anything else."

He glances down at his messy clothing for a second before muttering something under his breath. He stands up and fixes the way his shirt is tucked into his pants and readjusts his tie. "Who said I was making out with someone?"

"Oh, please." I point a pen in the direction of his hair, "your hair has obviously been run through a couple times."

Hudson reaches a hand up and pats the top of his head, finding the stray hair. "Shit."

I chuckle. "I thought that you of all people would be prepared to cover something like that up."

"I wasn't...doing that," he blindly runs his fingers through his hair. "I had to stop by my parents this morning, and my sister apparently lied to me when I asked how I looked. That explains why she was laughing," he tries to get a clear reflection of himself in the window behind him.

"Your sister?"

"Yeah."

"But if you were with your parents, why are you such a mess?"

"Their dogs decided to go on an adventure this morning. So I went over and ran up and down the streets to help find them. When I did, they were digging through the neighborhood dumpster. I'm surprised I don't smell like trash."

I suddenly feel a pang of guilt in my chest.

He didn't miss our presentation on purpose. He went to help his family like a responsible and caring son would. There's more to him than I thought.