After the Storm

Chapter Nineteen

The older Hudson nodded, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Yeah, only for a few months. You know I was just renting an apartment by myself and I'm here so often that it really didn't make sense for me to keep paying. Your parents were nice enough to let me stay here and pay some bills..."

Taylor took a step forward. "Are you having money problems, because if you—"

Mark raised his hands. "No, Taylor, everything is fine. There's nothing to worry about, seriously."

I kept my eyes steady on Taylor's face, which was donning an uneasy expression.

"Seriously, I'm okay," Mark insisted.

"You'd tell me if things weren't?"

"Of course." Mark placed a hand on his nephew's broad shoulder. "The biggest problem in my life right now is that my being here has messed up Camille's accommodations."

"Oh, please, don't worry about it!" I rushed out, hoping my words were still comprehendible.

I'm sure we'd be able to work it out. I could be fine on the roof, if need be, so long as I had a pillow and blanket.

And maybe a glass of water, but I didn't want to sound greedy.

"Yeah, please don't worry about that. She can stay in my room," Taylor said easily.

Just like that, problem solved.

Wait. His room? Would he be in it?

I hadn't seen Taylor's room yet. But that was about to change. We wished Uncle Mark a good night and he apologized again. Then Taylor, with my suitcase in tow, took three long strides until he came to the next door in the hallway.

This must have been how Ana felt before Christian showed her the Red Room.

That was what it was called, right? I'm not sure why I'm referencing that series; I never even read it.

"I'm warning you now, this hasn't been my bedroom since I was fifteen," Taylor said, snapping my mind back to the present.

"Okay."

When Taylor finally pushed the door all the way open—he was moving at a snail's pace, or at least it felt like that—all I saw was black.

And then Taylor flicked on the light, and blues and greys and purples hit my retina.

Some teenagers have a mature bedroom theme when they're fifteen years old. I did. The colour palette was cream and burgundy, and my quilt and curtains had a matching Victorian pattern.

Taylor's room, however, did not fit that description. He told me it hadn't been his bedroom since he was fifteen and by the looks of it, it probably hadn't changed since he was ten.

The bed, which sat in the corner of the room, had NHL themed sheets, with all thirty teams' logos on them. He had a bookshelf which contained more trophies and ribbons than novels. Jerseys from LA's major sports teams covered the navy-blue walls.

"What do you think?"

I could hear the tentativeness in his voice. He shouldn't be embarrassed of his room. I thought it was...

"Adorable. Absolutely adorable."

Yeah, that totally wasn't what Taylor wanted to hear. He let out a small moan.

Jesus.

Thank goodness there was a teddy bear on the dresser to cool the mood.

"Before this gets awkward, let's just get the sleeping arrangements out of the way. You can sleep in my bed, and I can sleep on the couch out in the TV room."