Beautiful Collide (Saints Of Redville #3)

Chapter 37

37

Molly

There is no way I’ll be able to avoid Hudson today.

We’re back in the practice arena, which means more chances to bump into him.

If it weren’t for our next fundraiser we are already planning, I would have told Dane I needed to take a few days off. But with the event looming, I can’t afford not to be present.

The worst part? Hudson will be here.

Because, of course, Hudson wants to be more involved in team philanthropy.

To drive me crazy.

Stop.

Just because he makes my brain mush doesn’t mean he’s a bad person.

I put Hudson in a box that he doesn’t belong in.

I know this.

He knows this.

But in my defense—

Oh, shut it, Molly. You fucked up. Just admit it.

Fine.

I fucked up.

I shouldn’t have judged Hudson before I got to know him, I shouldn’t have taken out my personal issues on him, and I shouldn’t have lied all those years ago because I’m a chicken who’s too afraid to tell her brother about what happened during that period he wasn’t in my life.

I speed walk through the doors of the arena and head straight for the back office I’ve been using to coordinate Dane’s donations to the event.

“Molly,” one of the staff greets me before leaving me alone in here, a box of empty balloons tucked under her arm.

The medium-sized room is bigger than a closet but smaller than a conference room.

But somehow, even its extra square footage feels suffocating.

The walls are painted a dull beige, the kind that absorbs light instead of reflecting it. A small, cluttered desk is shoved into one corner, a filing cabinet in the other, and a long granite counter stretches across the back wall.

It’s not cramped, not really.

At least, I tell myself that.

Still, the air feels thick, like the walls are slowly creeping closer with every second I stand here. I leave the door open, needing the illusion of space—of an escape route. Closing it would feel like letting the past swallow me whole.

I didn’t lie when I told Hudson it’s storming back with a vengeance.

I can’t help but groan, heading to the table and gripping its edge. “Why are you like this, Molly?”

My thoughts are a mess. Tangled up tightly like a web of yarn that can’t be unknotted.

What the hell am I going to do?

And not just about my annoying attraction to Hudson.

But also with Dane.

It’s obvious that my role needs to change.

Working for him is no longer necessary.

He’s okay.

And doesn’t need me.

And that’s okay.

Then why does it hurt so badly?

“It wouldn’t be abandoning your brother,” I try to convince myself. “You’ll still be in his life to bug him. He would never let you out of his sight anyway.”

My eyes well with tears.

Why does everything have to be so damn complicated?

I’ve spent so much of my life the past few years trying to repay the debt to Dane. Without that purpose, what will I do? Do I even have hobbies? Likes and dislikes?

Who am I?

Who is Molly Sinclair?

I don’t even know.

“Pathetic.” I shake my head. “You’re pathetic, Molly.”

The faint sound of the door creaking has my heart racing.

I left it partly ajar, but there’s no mistaking that this isn’t a gust of wind. Someone is here, and I’m on the verge of tears.

Real smooth, Molly.

Footsteps echo behind me.

The thing is, I don’t even need to turn around to know it’s him. It’s like my body knows before my brain does. My shoulders stiffen, my heart picks up speed, and a familiar heat blooms low in my chest.

The footsteps aren’t heavy, but they carry a confidence that could only belong to him . Hudson Wilde moves like he owns every room he walks into, even when he doesn’t. Even when he shouldn’t.

It’s infuriating.

Even if my spidey senses weren’t tingling, the closer he gets, the surer I am, thanks to the scent of his familiar cologne wafting in the air.

“Molly.” His voice carries his usual teasing tone.

I don’t answer.

I keep my eyes trained forward on the wall in front of me.

There’s a small crack in the paint.

I should tell someone to touch that up.

Maybe if I don’t look at him, he’ll go away.

But of course, that won’t happen.

He’s made it his lifelong mission to break down my walls.

The scary part is, he would if I let him.

“You’re avoiding me again,” he says as he steps closer.

I let out a sigh, finally turning to face him.

Damn.

I shouldn’t have done that.

The man is freshly showered. His dirty-blond hair looks brown as the water still clings to each strand. Droplets of water drip down his face.

He showered fast.

Or maybe he took a page out of Slate’s playbook and dunked his head. It doesn’t matter because this man should be illegal. He should one hundred percent come with a warning label.

It’s unfair—actually unfair —how good he looks without even trying.

The ends of his hair curl slightly where they’re still damp, making him look just this side of boyish. Except nothing about the rest of him is boyish.

His jaw is sharp, dusted with just enough stubble to make him look rugged. A single droplet trails down his neck, disappearing beneath the collar of his T-shirt.

My gaze dips lower without permission, taking in the way the shirt clings to his broad shoulders and chest, still damp enough to hint at the hard lines of muscle underneath.

And just like that, my mouth goes dry.

My heart stumbles, and heat creeps up the back of my neck like it’s trying to expose me. It’s maddening, really, the way my pulse betrays me every time he’s within a ten-foot radius.

Hudson Wilde isn’t just handsome—he’s infuriatingly, stupidly hot.

And right now, standing there like he just stepped out of a cologne ad, he’s every bit the kind of trouble I don’t need.

“I’m not avoiding you.” I plant a hand on my hip, feigning confidence. “I’m just . . . busy.”

Hudson’s lips twitch, a hint of disbelief flickering across his face. “Busy, huh?”

“Yep.” I pop the p .

He arches a brow, his expression equal parts amused and skeptical.

“All right, I’ll bite.” He tilts his head, that infuriating smirk tugging at his mouth. “What’s got you sooo busy you can’t spare two minutes to talk to me?”

“What do you want, Hudson?” I snap, sharper than I mean to.

The words land heavy, and regret churns in my stomach. He hasn’t done anything to deserve this. Not today, anyway.

We had a moment that’s been on a constant loop in my brain. I’m wound up too tight, and it’s spilling out the wrong way.

Hudson crosses his arms, but nothing about it is defensive. If anything, he looks more relaxed—more determined.

“I want you to stop running.” His calm, steady voice dares me to argue.

“I’m not running.”

His gaze pins me. “We both know you are.”

“I can’t help it,” I admit before I can stop myself. My voice is smaller now, faltering.

“Why?”

The quiet word cuts through me like a blade.

I swallow hard, looking anywhere but at him. “I don’t know.”

“You act like this—us—is a bad thing.”

“Maybe it is,” I whisper, biting my lip hard enough to hurt.

My fists curl at my sides.

Hudson’s jaw tightens, his expression hardening just slightly.

“Do you actually believe that?” His voice lowers, steady but sharp. “Or is this about your brother?”

The mention of Dane punches through my armor like a wrecking ball. My stomach twists painfully.

I could say yes.

I could tell Hudson that Dane would never trust him, that he’s too protective, too stubborn. And while that’s true, it’s not all of it.

The bigger part?

That’s on me.

It’s about the fear gripping me, the fear of what could happen if I let someone in.

“You wouldn’t understand,” I murmur, my voice barely audible.

“Try me.” He steps closer, the teasing gone from his tone. Now, it’s gentle but unrelenting.

“It’s not that simple.” I shake my head, wishing I could shake away the truth.

“It can be.”

“I’m not sure I can,” I choke out, my voice cracking under the weight of it all.

“Hex.” The way he says my name—steady, unflinching—hits me straight in the chest.

Like a quiet challenge.

Like he’s daring me to keep lying to him.

I look up, and for one stupid moment, I let myself feel it. The pull between us. The way the air thickens when we’re too close. The way his eyes—blue and unwavering—make me feel seen and exposed all at once.

But then reality slams into me like a tidal wave.

Dane would never understand.

And Hudson? I don’t trust myself to let him in.

Not when the stakes feel this high.

“I can’t,” I whisper, stepping back. The space between us grows, but it doesn’t feel like enough. “I can’t do this.”

Hudson doesn’t move for a long second. He just watches me, his expression unreadable, and then he nods once.

“For now,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight I don’t want to unpack.

Then he turns and walks away, leaving me there.

Leaving me with the unshakable feeling that this isn’t over.

Because it isn’t.

Not even close.