Chapter 3
Piper
My fingers curl into the material of his sweater as Hudson kisses me. I cling to him as my stomach drops to my feet and my heart races in my eardrums.
The scent of his cologne, warm and woodsy, washes over me, putting all my senses on high alert. His tongue nudges against the seam of my lips and I open for him, sighing softly as his tongue meets mine. Our kiss is deep and sensual.
At complete odds with the playboy prankster.
More meaningful than any kiss I shared with Jeff or my college boyfriend or any other man.
In the span of ten heartbeats, Hudson sweeps me off my feet and confirms a long-held suspicion. No man has ever lived up to him.
My palm slides up to his cheek. His arm bands around my waist, pulling me against his body as he leans into me. My breasts are flush against his chest, and I shiver from the contact.
I’ve thought of this moment for forever. Dreamed it, wished for it, wanted it. And now, on Christmas Eve, Hudson is kissing me the way he does in the fantasies I try to ignore.
Wholly. Completely. Desperately.
My mind reels as I savor the feel of his lips on mine. The heat of his hands sinks into my skin as he brushes his fingers along my lower back, up the side of my body.
A gale of laughter from the dining room forces me to pull back. My eyes swing to the doorway, but Hudson and I are still alone in the kitchen. Hesitantly, I take a step back.
My cheeks feel flushed. My body trembles with nerves and awareness and anticipation and—gah, all the things I’ve been missing out on for too long.
“Christ, Pipe,” Hudson breathes. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
“What?” I gasp, convinced I heard him wrong.
“Since high school,” he snorts. “Fuck that. Since before high school.”
I shake my head, a hand coming up to rest on my cheek. “No. No way. Because I tried to kiss you—”
“It wouldn’t have worked,” he cuts me off, his eyes turning more blue than green. “Not then. I wasn’t ready for a woman like you.”
His words rip that old wound wide open. “Right,” I mutter, nodding. “I’m not your type and—”
“You’re too good for me,” he corrects, his voice unwavering.
“You always were. Fuck, you still are. Back in high school, my type was temporary. Fleeting. The moment only. And back then, I didn’t have it in me to prioritize a relationship, a woman, over hockey.
Or even balance it with hockey. But now… ”
He trails off and my world crashes down around me. Everything I thought I knew, understood, no longer makes sense. I glance around Sandra’s kitchen. This is insane. Crazy. Wild.
Exhilarating.
“What are you saying?” I press.
Hudson closes the space between us and grabs my hand.
He presses my palm against his chest and holds it there.
“I’m saying I never fully realized, until today, how much I miss you.
You’ve been a constant presence in my life for so fucking long and I hate that you’re not anymore.
I didn’t realize how far apart we grew. I didn’t understand how much the thought of you with another guy would gut me.
And fuck, Pipe, I didn’t know, couldn’t have known, that kissing you would change the whole game. ”
I release a shaky exhale at his words. A confession, a declaration, an apology, all rolled together.
“I’m saying I want you back in my life, Pipe. Fuck, do I miss you.”
“I miss you, too.” My voice sounds scratchy.
“Why don’t we talk anymore?” he asks again, his eyes holding mine with an unwavering resoluteness.
“You hurt me,” I admit. “The night you shut me down, told me I wasn’t your type, left without a backward glance and posted photos of your new girlfriend, a redhead, three weeks later… I was humiliated, Hudson. I never thought I was pretty enough to—”
“Are you fucking kidding me, Piper?” he cuts me off, a slant to his eyes, an edge to his voice. “You’ve always been the most gorgeous woman in any room.”
I shake my head. “No, I never felt that way.”
“Because you’re too pure hearted to see it.”
I roll my lips together. “When I put myself out there and you rejected me, it hurt.”
“I never meant to reject you,” he says softly, understanding dawning in his expression.
“I didn’t want to hurt you from something you’d regret.
Because, back then, Piper, there was no winning scenario.
I wasn’t going to be a good boyfriend, not with hockey taking all my time and attention.
And I wasn’t going to kiss you, or sleep with you, and not call you either.
I tried to avoid the fallout but…fuck, we lost our friendship anyway.
” His voice is threaded with disbelief. As if he’s just realizing now, today, how far apart we are. His eyes meet mine. “I’m so sorry.”
At the sincerity in his apology, I laugh. It’s not funny and yet, it is unbelievably ironic. Emotion sweeps the backs of my eyelids and I nod. “Me too.”
“I’m shooting my shot, Pipe. Give me tonight.” He tips his head cockily, even as his eyes plead.
“You think it will only take one night?” I tease.
He laughs. “There she is.” He tugs on my hair before moving it behind my shoulder.
“No. But if only have this weekend to prove that this could be something, that we can erase the distance we put between us, that I’m the same guy you used to call your best friend, but with a more balanced lifestyle now, then I’m claiming tonight. ”
“Uncle Hud!” Kimmy rushes into the kitchen, tossing her arms around my waist.
“Hey, girl,” he says, wrapping an arm around her. “You trying to get into the desserts early?” He gestures toward a stack of pastry boxes.
Kimmy laughs. “I’m really spying on you and Piper.”
I blush as Hudson laughs harder. He crouches down to her level and whispers, “Who put you up to it?”
“Mommy bet fifty that you and Piper were kissing. Grandpa has twenty on Piper kneeing you in the balls. And Ms. Misty said no money. She says she knows Piper’s heart, and that you’re a gentleman, so you guys are in here just talking.”
“So Misty wins?” Hudson asks, shooting me a look.
I bite my bottom lip to hold in my laughter.
“Yeah.” Kimmy nods.
Hudson narrows his eyes. “What’d they promise you for being the spy?”
Kimberly blushes and twirls her fingers together. “Grandma said you’d build a Christmas fort for Frankie and me to sleep in tonight.”
This time, I burst out laughing.
Hudson looks at me again, a smile stretched across his face. He tugs twice on the end of Kimmy’s braid. “You got it, Kimmy. Piper and I would love to build a Christmas fort, watch movies, and have a sleepover with you guys tonight.”
My mouth drops open.
Kim squeals and rushes back into the dining room. “Ms. Misty won!” she announces. Another peal of laughter rings out.
Hudson looks at me and crosses his arms over his chest. “What do you say? Home Alone at eleven p.m.?”
I snort, recalling all the holiday seasons Hudson and I watched Kevin McCallister do his thing. “Only if we start with The Grinch.”
Hudson snorts and dips his head. “Come on, we better get back in there before they bribe Frankie with something.”
I laugh as I reenter the dining room.
Our parents’ eyes, along with Stacy’s and Joe’s, look at me expectantly. I give nothing away. Instead, I take my seat, pick up my dinner roll, and take a giant bite.
At the other end of the table, Dad snickers softly.
We build the fort to rival all forts.
Utilizing his degree in architecture, Hudson uses sheets, dining chairs, and a plethora of couch cushions to make a fort that has two access points, a secret tunnel, and a movie theater.
“This is the best,” Kimmy whispers to her brother as they rest their backs against the pillows.
Little fairy lights twinkle along the inside of the fort.
“Uncle Hud is the best,” Frankie agrees.
“I’ve got popcorn!” Hudson announces as he bounds down the stairs.
His niece and nephew squeal and make way for him to enter the fort. Hudson passes me a huge bowl of popcorn and plunks the other down in between Kimberly and Frankie. Then, he ties back the flaps of the fort so we can all view the television.
As we get cozy, Frankie presses play, and The Grinch begins on the screen.
The kids giggle as they shovel handfuls of popcorn into their mouths.
“Mom and Dad are going to let us stay up late,” Kimmy tells Hudson knowingly.
“Because of you,” Frankie tacks on, his eyes gleaming. “Since you’re babysitting us.”
“What time did they set for your bedtime?” Hudson asks.
“Eight thirty,” Kimberly answers honestly.
Hudson tilts his head. “You think the jet lag will kick in earlier?”
“Nope.” Frankie shakes his head.
“Well, all right. Since I gave Mom and Dad the night off to sleep at my place, I’m in charge and I say you two can stay up until nine!” Hudson announces.
Kimberly and Frankie glance at each other, their eyes wide, before erupting in cheers.
I laugh as Hudson grins.
“Come on. Let’s watch the movie,” he says.
The kids settle down and turn their attention toward the Dr. Seuss characters.
I narrow my eyes at Hudson. Pinching his side, I hiss, “You told Stacy and Joe to stay at your place? I thought you lived here.”
He grins at me, shifting to wrap an arm around my shoulders. “You wanted to think I lived here. That I never grew up and was still mooching off Mom and Dad.”
I snort but don’t refute his observation because it’s correct.
At my silence, Hudson chuckles. “I have a big boy place that’s all my own, Piper.”
I shiver as his breath washes over my cheek. I glance up at him. “But tonight, we’re back in your parents’ basement, getting swept up in nostalgia.” He looks at me curiously. “Yeah,” he finally whispers. “Nostalgia and the moment.”
“Shh!” Frankie shushes us.
Hudson and I exchange a smile before tuning into the film.
Thirty minutes later, at 7:25 p.m., Kimmy and Frankie are both passed out.
Hudson carries them upstairs and tucks them into the guest room of his parents’ house. Then, he returns to the basement with two glasses of wine.
Passing me one, he says, “My sister and Joe took off an hour ago. Our parents just left. They’re going to your parents’ house to try some whiskey your dad is raving about.”
I roll my eyes, knowing exactly the bottle Hudson is talking about.
I take a sip of my wine and backpedal, until my ass hits the pool table.
Then, I boost myself up and glance around the space.
The same brown leather couch. A dartboard.
The pool table I’m sitting on. A framed, signed poster of Gordie Howe.
I noticed it all when we were building the fort, but sitting here now, in the quiet of the night, with only Hudson, the past rolls over me. “It’s just as I remember.”
“Yeah,” Hudson laughs. “Not much has changed at Mom and Dad’s.”
“Is that what we’re doing?” I voice my worry aloud. “Just falling back into an old, familiar, convenient moment since we’re both home this weekend?”
Hudson stares at me. Looks through me, as if he can peel back the layers I’ve wrapped myself in. I shiver at the intensity of his gaze as he walks toward me. He steps between my thighs, forcing my legs to widen to make room for him.
He drops a hand beside my hip and steps into my frame, so I’m forced to lean back. His movements are slow, deliberate. Sexy.
He takes my wine glass from my hand and places it on the TV stand. Then, he holds the side of my face, his fingertips brushing against the back of my head, as he tilts my head, and captures my lips with his.
I raise my chin to meet his kiss. Our lips roll over each other’s slowly, sensually.
It’s just a kiss and yet, it flips everything I know about kissing upside down.
My breasts grow heavy, and I arch into Hudson’s chest, wanting to feel his body flush against mine. His other hand holds my hip, his fingers splayed wide. He presses me more firmly into him and his touch travels down to my ass.
He pulls back slightly, his eyes finding mine. “Nothing about this feels old or familiar or convenient, Piper. Everything about you is new and thrilling and the biggest risk I’ve ever taken.”
I shudder at the meaning—the promise—behind his words. Then, his lips are on mine again and I let go of the past. I stop holding high school against him. I banish my insecurities from my head.
Instead, I revel in this moment with Hudson. I place my trust in his hands and allow our history, all those years, to wrap me in the safety of his arms.
Our hands explore each other’s bodies. Our mouths never break contact with each other’s lips as we savor the moment. Everything is slow and sexy and special.
I feel like a high school girl again, high on the moment. I feel like a woman who’s restlessly searched for too long, secure in my decision.
When Hudson tugs on the hem of my shirt, I silently lift my arms above my head.
His eyes meet mine, a silent question.
“Yes,” I breathe out.
His eyes flutter closed as he pulls the shirt off my head and discards it on the floor.
“Fuck, Pipe, but are you the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever known.
” His voice is reverent as his eyes drink me in.
Slowly, he lifts his hand to my shoulder and brushes my bra strap down my arm.
Then, his mouth dips to kiss down the slope of my neck.
When he nips at my shoulder, I moan, leaning into him.
“You sure?” he murmurs.
“Yes,” I repeat, my voice heavy with need.
“Thank fuck,” he swears, turning my face to his and kissing me again.
This time, his kiss swallows me whole and I succumb to the moment, to the fantasy, to my long-held desire.
I give myself, body and heart, to Hudson Page.