HUDSON (The Beckett Boys, Book Six)

by Olivia Chase

  The word how is on my mouth, but I'm afraid if I let it out, I will learn a bunch of shit that I'd be better off not picturing in my head.

  Isabel knows me well, too, however. She sees me about to ask. "We were drunk," she says. "At first."

  "Okay," I declare. I rise from the couch. "That's about all I need to know."

  "Don't lock yourself in your room yet, Keri, please."

  "I'm not."

  "Good."

  "I'm going to my room," I say. "But I'm grabbing some stuff, and then I'm leaving."

  "Leaving?"

  "Leaving."

  "Why?"

  "Did you really just ask me why?"

  Isabel's hands are on her cheeks now, like she's trying to absorb the heat from them. "Keri, no. You don't have to leave."

  "I think I should," I say. I allow her eyes to meet mine, and I know I look awful, but I'm not going to let her think I'm so defeated that I can't look her in the face. "I don't feel right being here anymore."

  Isabel paces back and forth in the hallway for a few minutes while I throw some things into a duffel bag. By the time I emerge from my room, she's sitting delicately on the edge of the couch, leaning forward, like she might need to leap up at any second. She looks at me with a question in her eyes.

  "Bye," I mumble, not knowing how else to do this. I don't have any experience storming out after a love triangle crisis.

  "I'm serious," Isabel says. "We were drunk the first time."

  "Great. Congrats."

  "Don't you get it?" She really does leap up this time. "It's like you and Gage. You were both drunk when you went home with him. It happened like that. It happens. All the time, it happens. We're not much different from you."

  "No," I say, opening the front door. I turn around before stepping outside. "You are different from Gage and me. You are way, way different."

  I throw the bag into my car, where my suitcases full of clothes are already waiting. In the hours before Isabel came home, I puked, packed, and tried to make a game plan.

  Isabel. The girl who shared all her products and made me waffles. The girl who did so much with me and supported my work projects with the girls, even showing up for a lot of our events. This is the girl who knowingly did something that would shred me apart.

  No. I will not be shredded apart. I will not.

  I will be okay. I will be okay.

  I back out of our driveway and head for Gage's house in Sunlight Park.

  Chapter 16

  GAGE

  The sound of my garage door opening startles me out of my grading trance. There's only one person besides me who has a garage door opener, but she wouldn't be coming over here, especially unannounced.

  When I get to the laundry room, where the interior garage door connects to, I've got a lump in my gut. What if I'm wrong about my garage door openers and somehow Natasha got ahold of one? Or what if she stole Keri's? It's not that farfetched.

  But when I open the door, I see Keri, sitting in her car, her head on the steering wheel.

  "Keri?" I hurry to her driver's side door. She raises her head, and I can see she's distraught. I open her door.

  She pushes damp strands of black hair away from her eyes and tries to catch her breath. "I'm sorry to just parade over here like this," she says. "I've just had a seriously shitty day, and kind of a shock, and I just don't want to be at my house right now."

  "Okay," I say softly, taking her into my arms. What's wrong? Is it her dad's heart? "Okay. Here, lets' go inside. We'll work it out."

  "Sorry," she says, rubbing her eyes. "I know I'm breaking our rule about being here."

  "Forget the rules," I tell her.

  Keri nods and we go into the house. "My head hurts," she mutters.

  "I'll get you some Ibuprofen." I grab a bottled water from my bar's mini fridge and bring her upstairs to my bedroom, where I head for the medicine cabinet. "Take these," I say, dropping the tiny white pills into her palm. She downs them and about half of the bottle of water.

  "Thank you," she manages after she's done chugging.

  We sit down on my bed. I rub her back, waiting for her to start talking when she's ready. Her blue eyes are rimmed with red, but they're no less beautiful. "I found out something today. Bad news."

  "Okay.” Fuck It is her dad. "What?"

  "I was walking across campus today," she says, "When you called. And when we hung up, I saw it."

  Oh, no. No, no, no. Her dad. She got a terrible message about her dad.

  I'll pay his hospital bills. All of them. Whatever he needs done, I'll cover it.

  "Isabel." Keri's face twists, and I can see her struggling not to cry again. "And Becker."

  Pecker. "Your ex?"

  "Yeah."

  Oh.

  OH.

  "No way," I say.

  "That's what I thought, and I saw it with my own eyes."

  "What were they doing?"

  "Kissing."

  "Oh, fuck."

  "Well, fighting, at first. Then kissing."

  "This was outside? In broad daylight?"

  "In a little area of the quad where you wouldn't pay much attention. I almost didn't see it."

  "But you did," I say. I run my fingers through my hair. Fucking Isabel. And fucking Becker. I want to knock the shit out of him. "Did they see you?"

  "No, but they would have if I'd stayed. I just ran away."

  "So they don't know?"

  "They do now." Keri looks truly miserable. "I confronted Isabel a little while ago, and she couldn't deny it. And before she got home, I packed up a crapload of stuff and I'm about to head to my parents' house."

  "You're going to stay with your parents?"

  "Yeah. The commute isn't that bad. And at least there I don't have to see Isabel. It sounds like it's been going on for awhile, and maybe even before Becker and I broke up."

  Jesus. "Did you tell your parents yet?"

  Keri shakes her head, still looking mournful. "No. I guess I'll just go and tell them what I saw. They'll let me stay, of course. I'm not worried about that."

  "You’ll stay here," I say, stroking her hair. The thought of her leaving when she’s so upset, of not being close to me is unbearble. "With me."

  "Here?" Keri's look is some cross between sad and hopeful. "But what about-- what we decided?"

  "Fuck what we decided."

  "Natasha?"

  "Fuck her."

  "And everything else? Random drop-ins, people driving by to see where Gage Ramsey is living?"

  "Fuck everything else." I cup her chin and aim her face towards mine, so she knows I'm serious. "You're staying with me. Okay?"

  Keri nods, then buries her face in my chest. A muffled "okay" comes out.

  "Have you had dinner?" I ask.

  "I yakked up everything I ate today, so no."

  "That’s probably why you have headache," I tell her. "Do you think you could eat something now? I can order Chinese. Or pizza. Or from that barbecue place that delivers."

  Keri looked mildly ill at the first two suggestion, but the mention of barbecue made her eyes dance for a second. "Maybe a salad," she says.

  "Yes,” I nod. “You need to take it easy.”

  "Actually," she says, "cole slaw sounds kind of good. I could maybe keep that down."

  "You got it." I stand up to go grab my phone.

  "And Gage?" She gives me a weak smile from the bed. "Maybe order Dr. Pepper and sweet tea.”

  "Will do."

  "And maybe brisket."

  This girl. I don't know how I ever tried to put a stop to our relationship. I place the order, and Keri slips into the bathroom. I hear the shower running a minute later.

  She's a tough girl, this Keri Willis. She's had some major shit thrown at her in the short time I've known her, and she's handled it all like a boss.

  Chapter 17

  KERI

  There’s a big spread of barbecue on the kitchen counter when I plod downstairs, hair wet and combed a
fter my shower, dressed in one of Gage’s soft robes. Admittedly, I feel a little better, especially being here with Gage. But alone in the fancy master shower, with the hot water running down my back, my thoughts didn’t stray far from Isabel and Becker.

  But when I come into the kitchen and see all the food Gage ordered, with him standing there next to all of it, like a kid with his science fair project, I decide to shove Becker and Isabel out of my mind. It might be tough, but look at Gage, here in his vintage Queen T-shirt, looking all pleased with himself.

  “This is a feast,” I declare. Gage got way more than just brisket. All the delicious side dishes that Rusty’s BBQ has to offer sit in takeout containers. Mac and cheese, the kind that’s like crack. Cole slaw, salad and cucumbers, fried green tomatoes, everything imaginable that’s associated with barbecue and bad for you, but so good.

  We eat in the front of the TV, having caught The Breakfast Club just as it came on. The Breakfast Club is one of those movies you have to watch at least a few minutes of, even if you’ve got it memorized, whenever you come across it. Even if you’ve got it in your video library already. Which Gage does.

  “And yet here we sit, watching the cable version that’s censored, with commercials,” I say.

  “Welcome to America,” Gage says. “First World problems.”

  We watch it all the way through, agreeing that in real life, no way would those kids just make out like that with their parents just sitting there waiting for them like that. It strikes me how normal this is, me with my head on a pillow on Gage’s lap, watching TV, eating takeout.

  This is what normal boyfriends and girlfriends do. There’s nothing remotely illicit or dysfunctional about this. Yet a picture of this scene of us together would get Gage fired.

  It’s not fair.

  My morose mood returns until there’s a magnificent clap of thunder.

  We go to the humongous window, where lightning is lighting up the sky just a few hundred feet away. Another smash of thunder.

  “Jesus,” Gage says a minute later, as the rain comes sheeting down the windows, pummeling the roof. “I’ve never seen rain like this,” he says.

  “It’s Texas rain,” I say. “You know how they say everything’s bigger here?”

  “I’ve heard it, but damn. I didn’t know you guys backed it up.”

  I enjoy the rush of amusement at Gage’s you guys. I tell him that marks him as from way far away. He tells me that y’all sounds too informal. I tell him that it saved syllables and effort, and he was forced to agree.

  The TV beeps. “Tornado Watch,” Gage reads.

  “That just means the weather in certain places is prime conditions for one to form. Tornado Warning means one’s been sighted. Then, depending on where it is, you can freak out.”

  I join Gage at the window. We watch the world get soggier and soggier for awhile. “It’s never rained this hard anywhere I’ve lived,” he says, pulling me close to him. “You do realize you’re still wearing my bathrobe?” He fiddles with the robe’s cord around my waist.

  “It makes me feel close to you,” I whisper.

  “Keri Willis.” Gage kisses the top of my head. “Miss Blue Eyes. You’re a firecracker.”

  “Not really,” I counter. “I’m not that explosive.”

  “You are in the bedroom.”

  “Just in the bedroom?” I tease.

  “And in the water. And on the bar.”

  “And on your office desk,” I add helpfully.

  “And there,” he says. “That was smoking hot, too. I still think about that all the time.”

  “Me too,” I admit.

  Gage fingers the V-neck the thick robe forms. “Storms have a kind of positive association, don’t they? In terms of cleansing, and starting anew.”

  “I fell asleep every day in Legends and Lore class,” I reply. “But that sounds right.”

  “Eager student.” Gage chuckles. “Lucky prof who gets you.”

  “Har har.”

  Gage twirls his fingers in my long hair, dry now after the movie. “Nobody should be this beautiful,” he says. “Seriously, Keri, do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

  Gage runs a finger over my cheek, and we kiss. The TV goes quiet, giving that Are you still watching? I’m about to turn off message. It casts the room in a electric, barely-there light.

  “Look,” I murmur, gesturing up at the sky.

  Gage catches the lightning bolt in time, letting out a low whistle. “Nature’s wrath. With all our tech progress, we still succumb and cower in the presence of something like that.”

  I like hearing the awe in Gage’s voice. “It’s not every day you hear one of America’s most prominent business minds truly humbled by something.”

  “Then you must not look at me very often.” Gage is still touching me tenderly. “I’m humbled by you.”

  He unties my robe’s waistband. Slowly, he pulls back the panels, revealing my naked body, and I let the robe slip down my sleeves and off.

  “You’re so phenomenally beautiful,” he whispers. “I mean that every time I say it.”

  I see his eyes, dark and gentle, lapping me up. “Thank you.”

  We kiss again. We kiss without stopping. The thunder booms and smacks above us, all around us. The rain keeps pouring, washing everything in Deer Falls, sounding fierce and beautiful as Gage’s tongue leaves my mouth and ventures down my neck.

  It’s the most erotic moment I think I’ve ever had in my life. I stand stark naked, feeling Gage’s tongue, hands, eyes, on my body, while Mother Nature rages and thrashes outside. I like to think Mother Nature’s just venting, like we all need to do sometimes, and have a good cry.

  This man, this man with his eager hands on me, is who stopped me from crying tonight. His hair, that blend of honey and butter, looks darker in this dim light. His eyes appear almost black. We hoist his shirt off, and the contours of his upper body are silhouetted, giving him the appearance of some kind of deity. I love feeling his chest, his abs, his hipbones.

  We stand there, making out with bright flashes every few seconds through the window. I feel myself getting wet for him, getting ready for him. It amazes me how my body just responds to him like this. I feel for his erection, and he gives a sound of approval.

  “What do you want?” he whispers, breath warm.

  “You,” I say. “You inside of me.”

  “Mmm. Where?”

  “Right here.”

  Gage kneels down and licks my leg from the ankle, up my inner calf to my knee. He looks up at me hungrily and continues, running his tongue up my thigh, all the way, ultimately tasting how ready I am for him.

  “Your pussy drives me crazy,” he murmurs.

  Gage drives me crazy. Amazingly, happily crazy.

  He eats me, attentive to every inch of me, all over my folds of wet skin.

  I pull him to his feet, wanting to dispose of his jeans. I unzip them, and he tugs them off, standing only in his navy boxer-briefs. He’s bulging out noticeably, and I massage his cock through his shorts for a minute. Another loud clap of thunder sounds, and Gage glances outside.

  “Have you ever seen a tornado?”

  “Yes,” I say. “Driving on I-35 from Dallas.”

  He moves my hands underneath his shorts. “What did you do?”

  “Just kept driving,” I said. “Tornadoes move east to west, and I was going south.”

  “I’d like to see a different kind of tornado,” he whispers. “Right now.”

  He leads me to the couch and gently pushes me down onto it. “Lean back,” he whispers.

  I do as I’m instructed.

  “Spread your legs.”

  I obey.

  Gage moves in between, kneeling, eating me some more, before moving up over me and rubbing his hard dick along my leg. “You want this dick inside you?”

  “Yes.”

  He shoves gently in. I envelop him, grabbing him, savoring the feeling of his thick cock. He pulls out and ent
ers me again. All the way out, and back in. And then, after a few strokes, he drives in deep, his face in my tits. “I’m going to fuck you hard,” he says.

  “Good.”

  “And you’re going to like it.”

  I let an elongated sigh out, and Gage begins thrusting into me with a look of profound elation on his face.

  I cry out for more.

  “You want more?” he rasps. “You need more?”

  “I do,” I pant.

  Gage turns primal. He slams into me, grabbing my breasts hard, over and over.

  “Know what I want?”

  I barely manage a “What?”

  “To cum,” he says, sounded ragged. “To cum all over you.”

  I reach my peak, and release myself into a hundred small sighs, pulsating from deep within me. “I’m coming,” I breathe, gasping. “Oh, Gage.”

  Gage slides out of me. In one deft move, he positions his dick, and a surge of warmth splashes onto my stomach. “Yeah,“ he sputters as another hot whoosh of cum hits my chest. “Yeah. Oh, yeah.”

  We catch our breath. Gage grabs some paper towels left over from our TV dinner. “Here,” he says, cleaning me up.

  We get up, Gage commenting that he can’t feel his knees. He grabs a couple of blankets off the couch and spreads them onto the floor. We lay down.

  The rain eases up a bit, and while thunder still sounds, it's further away. Gage and I lie in each other's arms, blankets thrashed around us, staring up through the massive windows at the lightning in the distance.

  "I always used to try to get good lightning pictures," I say. "But either they sucked, or I missed the lightning by a split second. I'll get one of those crazy cameras someday, and have a whole room covered with photos of lightning."

  Gage turns to me, amused. "I learn more about you every day."

  "I love lightning," I say, enjoying his soft laugh.

  "I love you."

  My breath halts in my throat. Did he just...?

  "I do." He swirls a tendril of my hair around his fingers. "I know we keep saying we didn't expect this, and we didn't plan on that. I guess I'm adding another one to the list."

  I swallow. "You mean it?"

  "Keri," he says, face as earnest and kind as I've ever seen it. "I mean that more than I've ever meant anything in my entire life."