“Don’t even mention it. Now go before you turn blue.” She shoos me away, making me laugh. I do as she asks because I really do want to get out of these clothes as soon as possible.
Hudson is still behind me, but he’s been uncharacteristically quiet during this whole exchange. Maybe it’s better this way. With every interaction we have, my resistance crumbles away some more, and I still can’t decide what to make of it. I haven’t come across a guy that’s intrigued me in the slightest since Sebastian ended things last year.
This whole time, I thought the reason was because I’m better off without a guy, that it’s not worth risking my heart as well as Mira’s. But ever since Hudson walked into our lives—his half-naked state not helping in the least—my resolve has been tested to the extreme. Even though his looks definitely don’t hurt, there is so much about him that draws me in.
We make it back to the house, where Rose swiftly guides me through the kitchen and up the grand staircase. The long hallway stretches ahead of us, and she opens the first door on the left. The bedroom she reveals is decorated in a nautical theme, white and navy blue everywhere.
“Wow, it’s beautiful.” I walk in and look around. Big ocean canvases line the wall above the dark wood bed that is almost overflowing with white and blue striped pillows. There are small decorations scattered around the room, some made out of rope, and even a stunning shadow box filled with sand and seashells. “I love this.”
“Isn’t it awesome? It’s my favorite bedroom here. Mom loves to decorate, and Dahlia and I help her sometimes. We had the best time with this house when Hudson bought it for our parents.”
My mouth drops open, apparently ready to catch some flies. “He bought this house for them?” It’s not that the thought of Hudson buying his parents a house seems farfetched, more so the opposite. From everything I’ve learned about him so far, this seems exactly like the thing he’d do.
So sweet.
“Yup. First thing he bought after he got his initial record deal. He wanted to make sure everyone else was taken care of before he bought stuff for himself.” She gives me a proud smile.
It’s the first time I realize she doesn’t have the same smile as Hudson and their mother, making me wonder if the twins look more like their dad, since I still haven’t met him.
I’m staring at her, still a bit shell-shocked after the news that Hudson bought this house.
“Well.” Rose rubs her hands together. “Let’s get you taken care of. I’ll be back in just a minute with some clothes. The bathroom is right over there through that door. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind a hot shower. I’ll just leave the clothes on the bed for you. Pick whatever you want.” She gives me another smile before she heads toward the door.
“Thanks so much, Rose.”
“Anytime.” She looks back at me, studying me for a moment. “I like you, Charlie, I really do. Somehow, you’re...different.”
With that, she walks out the door, leaving me to wonder what the heck she meant by that.
After a quick shower, I’m relieved to see Rose left me a few clothes on the bed, just like she said. I pick a beautiful blue flower dress that thankfully fits—well, mostly. It’s a little snug around my torso, but it’ll work for the next few hours.
When I open the door, Hudson is waiting for me, casually leaning against the opposite wall.
“Hi.” I take him in, all freshly showered. His hair is still damp and pushed back unruly, like he just raked his hands through it a few times—his signature look. It looks good on him—very good—and maybe it’s made me wonder a time or two if this is how he looks in the morning when he wakes up.
“Hi yourself.” He looks me up and down before his gaze lands back on mine. “Man, blue suits you so well. You look absolutely stunning. Remind me to thank my sister for finding this dress. It looks like it was made for you.”
This time it’s not just my cheeks that are hot, it’s my whole body. I feel like someone just dumped me in front of a heater. “Thank you.”
“Charlie?” His voice is as smooth as honey as he pushes himself off the wall, stalking toward me. The hallway is bright enough for me to see the determination in his eyes.
“Hm?” I suddenly feel a little dizzy—I think.
On second thought, has someone put a spell on me?
“Did you want me to kiss you earlier?” The directness of his question stuns me for a second, but I can’t dwell on that since I’m lost in his gaze as he comes closer. His movements are painfully slow while my heart feels like it’s going to gallop out of my chest at any moment.
Anticipation. Pure, unapologetic anticipation of what’s to come.
I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.
“Do you want me to kiss you now?” Another step closer.
My heart starts beating even faster, and I’m sure there’s a group of hummingbirds in my stomach, flapping their wings wildly against my insides. It’s like someone pressed my ON button because my body is coming alive everywhere.
Why is this starting to feel like foreplay?
My gaze darts back and forth between his eyes and his mouth. His lips look beyond inviting—all soft, pink, and full—practically begging me to do something about this tension that is starting to consume me. I try and swallow past the big lump that has formed in my throat while my eyes track him like a hawk.
“Charlie?” His voice has an edge to it I haven’t heard before. It’s short of a growl—impatient, and so incredibly sexy.
For a moment, I stop thinking and just feel.
Then, I wet my lips and nod. “Yes. Kiss me.”
He closes the distance between us faster than I thought possible, and then his mouth is on mine. He kisses me like he’s starving for me, like he needs me to breathe. His lips are soft yet demanding.
Exploring, wanting, taking.
The kiss deepens, and I’m completely lost.
“Hudson.” His name leaves my lips in a soft moan.
My hands are in his hair, pulling and tugging, while he holds my face protectively before his fingers slowly wander down my body, landing on my hips. He pulls me away from the open doorway and over to the side, pinning me against the wall with his whole body deliciously pressed into mine.
This is the kind of kiss I’ve heard and read about. After all these years of never experiencing one, I thought they didn’t exist.
Boy, was I wrong.
This kiss is everything. It makes me feel alive in a way I’ve never felt before—all-consuming and powerful. It goes deeper than just a physical connection, making me drown in the overwhelming sensation of it all.
Hudson pulls away slightly, kissing my jaw all the way over to my ear. “You taste like fucking heaven.”
A shudder runs through my entire body when he finds a sensitive spot, and my eyes roll back into my head. My hands have a mind of their own and grip his hair even tighter, pulling him as close to me as possible, so I can savor this feeling for as long as I can.
A voice is trying to break through my subconscious, but I’m in a bubble. The only thing I can hear is us—all the little moans and groans mixed with whimpers and harsh breaths.
He’s kissing his way back to my mouth, and I welcome him like it has been years instead of mere seconds when I last kissed him.
“Uh. So sorry, guys, but, Hudson, your phone’s been ringing nonstop. I think it might be important.” The words finally pierce our bubble as someone walks around the corner.
Hudson’s lips stop moving, and his whole body freezes while I stare straight at Gabe as he averts his eyes to the ground. I’m still so caught up in the moment, it takes me a minute to fully snap out of it.
“This better be good.” Hudson’s unhappy groan is loud enough to echo through the hallway as he pushes away from me to walk over to his brother.
Chapter Twelve
Like Gabe suspected, the phone call was indeed important. Hudson had told me last week that he was supposed to fly out to Los
Angeles for a meeting with the big bosses of his music label a few days after the party. Apparently, it was an extremely important meeting that got moved up several days without anyone telling them. Hence, his manager was losing his mind, trying to get the band flown out to L.A. that very evening. Sadly, that meant our night ended right then and there, in the hallway at Hudson’s parents’ house.
Even though I understood, I was also upset about it, barely able to get any sleep that night. Maybe it was a premonition of some sort.
He’s been gone for two days now—one of them filled with drama coming from L.A.—and despite everything, I miss him. I’ve gotten so used to him being around practically twenty-four seven that the unexpected trip threw me a bit for a loop. At least it’s given me the chance to focus some more on my baking, especially since that’s one of the only things that helps me work through my emotional chaos anyway.
Since Monica wants to catch up with me—and probably gossip like there’s no tomorrow—I took my laptop to the bakery and set it up in my kitchen, a few feet away from me and all the ingredients, safely propped up on a little crate I found.
Hannah has proven to be a lifesaver once again, taking Mirabelle out for a trip to the zoo. That way, I can focus on my baking and my best friend—who happens to think I’m trying to bake my little heart out.
Sadly, she might have a point.
Looking around the bakery, I’m not sure who’s supposed to eat all the cakes, pies, and pastries I’ve already made and still plan on making. Since I’m an emotional eater, I know I’ll make a big dent in it for sure, even if it means I’ll end up with a stomach ache.
Monica’s been a little ball of barely contained irritation ever since I took her call a minute ago. She skipped pleasantries all together and jumped straight into what’s been on my mind the last twenty-four hours. “Mo, would you please calm down? Take a deep breath and stop cursing for a moment, so we can get through this together, okay?” I sigh, frowning at the screen in front of me. I give her another moment because I know why she’s so worked up.
Hudson’s ex.
The one I had no clue about, not a bleep of knowledge of who she was or what she looked like, or that she almost became Mrs. Mitchell at some point.
Now, I know all about it. Not only did Monica fill me in on everything she knows, but there’s also been no escaping the social media pictures and comments that have surfaced since yesterday. The same ones I’ve been trying to avoid and forget as much as I can.
No one needs to see pictures of the guy you’ve come to like and his ex-fiancée, especially when he just left your arms hours before.
Seeing them after we had our moment—at least I thought we had a moment, a very hot moment—hurts more than I thought it would. It has also made me question everything between us.
The last time I saw Monica, she talked me into letting go and having some fun. But those few minutes with Hudson felt like more than just fun, and I’m not sure I’m okay with that, or ready for it yet—especially after this new development.
“All right. Give me one moment to get comfortable, and then I’m ready to talk shit about you-know-who.” The screen wobbles, and I hear her moan and groan as she settles in—at least, I think that’s what she’s doing. She’s still wearing a big frown when her face appears on the screen again. “Okay, I’m all ears now. So, you were at the birthday party, almost making out with Hudson twice. Then you got wet with him in the pond, and after getting all cleaned up, you got it on in the hallway. Is that correct?”
Monica never fails to make me laugh, even when I’m in a weird mood like right now. “I guess that about sums it up.”
Getting it on in the hallway. Her words repeat in my head, and a burst of heat shoots through me as the memories of Hudson and me flood my mind. It still seems surreal, almost like a dream, like it never actually happened.
When his hands and lips were on me, it instantly wiped away any trace or conscious thoughts of previous men. It felt like Hudson was my first touch, my first kiss, every other memory just floating away into nonexistence, not even worth comparing anything to it.
“Will you snap out of your hot thoughts? I can see you blush from over here.” She taps her fingernails on the laptop, impatient as always. “Well, I’m glad you actually did follow through on your promise of going on a date and having fun. But what I don’t like is everything that happened in L.A. yesterday.”
And just like that, my hot thoughts are replaced with the harsh reality of what went down.
I know Monica wants to talk about it, and weirdly enough, this time, I do too. Even though I’m usually the last person to gossip, I can’t help myself and dive into the topic headfirst. “I don’t really know what happened, Mo. The only thing I know is that he’s in L.A. until tomorrow for some important meetings, and yesterday, all these pictures of him and his ex having dinner surfaced, spreading like a wildfire even I couldn’t escape.”
I inhale deeply, the anger and hurt bubbling up all over again. “I mean, did you see the pictures? They looked so dang cozy. Did they look cozy to you too?” Throwing my hands up in the air, I fling little pieces of dough everywhere.
She lets out a big breath before rubbing her hand across her forehead. “Shit. They did look cozy. What a son-of-a-mothertrucker. I can’t believe he gets you all hot one day, and then the next day, he’s out dining with his ex-fiancée when he knows there’s paparazzi everywhere. He better watch his ass when I come to Brooksville. Sexy ass or not, no one messes with my best friend. Didn’t she pull a number on him when they split last year?”
I shrug my shoulders. She knows I have no idea about that kind of stuff. Torturing myself with yesterday’s pictures was already more than enough for me. “No clue. That’s your territory. You’re the celebrity fangirl, not me.” Staring at my dough, I suddenly feel a little overwhelmed with everything. “Thanks, Mo.”
Her voice is soft this time. “Hey, hey. You’re not crying, are you? None of that, all right? Gosh, I will most definitely kick his butt.”
I can’t help it and laugh. Monica has a way about her which is why we get along so well.
Letting out a long sigh, I rub the back of my hand across my forehead, careful not to smear dough all over my face. “I don’t know what I was thinking, to be honest. Me and a famous rockstar? In which universe does that ever work? Maybe in fairy tales and cheesy chick flicks, but not in real life. Plus, I’m not even sure if I’d want that after the last few days. This is totally normal in his world, isn’t it? All the media attention and seeing these posts about the ‘dream couple reuniting’ and stuff like that. So much drama. I’d have to deal with this constantly. I mean, this is his life. With this new development, there will probably soon be paparazzi everywhere, including here, hoping to catch a glimpse of the power couple. Or one of them alone, at least. I’m actually surprised they haven’t been here yet.”
Monica’s eyebrows draw together so tightly, they almost look like one big unibrow. “Ugh, I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry. Even though I’m extremely pissed about the whole spiel, I really don’t think there’s something going on between these two. I’ve learned over the years how much the media obscures reality. I wouldn’t put it past that woman to meet up with him and calling all the paparazzi herself. I think her spotlight has been rather dull since she and Hudson called it quits, so I wonder about her motives in all of this.”
I only shrug, not sure what to say. All I know is that I feel incredibly disappointed and just plain sad. For a very short moment, I thought that maybe, just maybe, I might have something special with him. But that feeling is long gone. “I don’t think I can deal with this spotlight life.”
She points her finger at me. “Remember you told me Hudson said the media usually leaves him alone when he’s home? I think that’s true. I barely found any pictures online about him in Brooksville. It’s just too far away from the main celebrity scene for the paparazzi to care about. I mean, who wants to spend hours on the roa
d to take a picture of him grocery shopping or something boring like that? Besides, I’m sure his family would’ve said something otherwise, especially Hannah. Even though I have a bone to pick with him, I don’t think he’d mislead you like this.”
“I have to agree with her on that.” The deep voice comes from behind me, making me gasp.
Thankfully, I recognize it after the initial surprise and turn around. “Gabe! What is it with you guys always sneaking up on me? I’m starting to wonder if that’s a family trait.”
Gabe stands in front of me with a boyish grin on his face. He’s wearing a pair of light blue ripped jeans and a dark gray T-shirt. This family definitely knows how to wear casual clothes and look like a million bucks.
I still can’t get over the fact that I now know my favorite author—personally—and that he’s actually standing right here, in the middle of my bakery. He’s still as good-looking as he was a few days ago—short, messy brown hair, brown eyes, and a slight stubble on his face.
Taking his hands out of his jeans pockets, he holds them up. “Sorry. I wasn’t planning on being sneaky.”
“Sooooo…” Monica’s voice surprises me as she draws out the word. “You’re the famous Gabe, huh?”
For a moment, I actually forgot about my best friend.
Oops.
Her eyes move around, and I know she’s checking out Gabe. “Nice.”
At this point, she’s almost purring.
Oh boy. I know what that means.
She’s found a new target, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. Since I can’t say anything about it right now, though, I’ll file it away for later. “Mo, this is Gabe. Gabe, this is my best friend, Monica.”
He stares at the screen, lifting his right hand a little. I don’t know him well enough yet to read him, but to me, it almost looks like he’s mesmerized.
Interesting.
Monica’s beaming at him. Despite not wearing any makeup, she’s as stunning as always. “So, Gabe, do you also live in Brooksville, or are you just there for a visit?”
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