Chapter 4
Amelia
While Bret and Gage were talking, I was keeping one eye on Hudson and Quinn. She was resting her chin on the top of his head, her eyes starting to droop.
She’d missed him a ton since he’d left and would not be letting him out of her grip any time soon.
I let her video call him whenever she asked, which was several times a week, but it wasn’t the same as seeing him every day.
When he lived down the street, he’d been at our house all the time, eating meals with us, working nights so he could spend his days with us.
I’d been in such a dark place for the first few months, it didn’t even occur to me to wonder when he was sleeping.
We wouldn’t have survived without him.
We were surviving now. Happy even. But Quinn missed him. I missed him.
He laughed at something Rosie said, and I found myself smiling along.
Hudson had that quality about him—his emotions were contagious.
His calmness helped me feel calm. His happiness filled me with joy.
It had been that way since I’d met him in our freshman English class, and he’d not only let me take his seat next to the heater but brought me a warm drink.
Everyone needed a Hudson in their lives.
“You’ve got it so bad,” Bret said. I blinked my focus back toward him and Gage.
“What?” I asked, a little too sharply.
“You’ve gotta be so mad. Because your shoes.”
Oh. I shook my head and tried to laugh. Where in the world was my head?
Bret looked at me carefully. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Just tired from traveling. I may have to head back to Shiloh’s parents’ house soon and go to bed if I’m going to be up for any wedding festivities.”
“Don’t leave before karaoke,” Gage said. “I’m singing Metallica tonight.” He headbanged as he played air guitar that had the guys all ribbing him, and him singing even louder. I loved these guys. They were all like brothers to me.
And that was part of the problem. The only men I ever hung out with treated me like a sister.
And I only felt sisterly feelings toward them.
Try as I might to be attracted to Bret or Gage—who were both handsome men—I didn’t feel a spark.
Add to that the guilt I felt for being lonely and feeling ready for a new relationship?
Well, it was easier to stay single. Even if I wished for Quinn to have a dad. And for me to have a partner again.
I’d read somewhere that people who had happy marriages were more likely to get married again after their spouse died.
Shiloh and I had been very happy. Because of him, I knew love existed, and I missed it.
But would everyone else think my desire to find someone again was in part because I’d loved Shiloh so much, or would it look like a betrayal?
Hudson and Quinn were walking back to the table, and when Hudson caught my gaze, he frowned. Discerning as always. I tried to wipe the troubling thoughts from my mind. We were here to enjoy a wedding and have a good time.
I could worry about everything else later.
Quinn sat in the empty seat next to Hudson, and he sat next to me. His arm brushed mine when he went to grab a slice of pizza, and my soul exhaled. Maybe I didn’t need a new relationship. I just needed Hudson to move back. He was my best friend, and with him, everything felt more settled.
I picked at my salad as Hudson and the guys talked about some of the weight-training they were doing to prepare for the season.
Gage and Bret pulled some of the other guys from the team to chat about something, and Hudson leaned close to me, his voice low.
“Is salad all they have here that’s gluten free? ” he asked, concerned.
I nodded. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”
His frown deepened, but before he could say anything, Rosie was standing on a chair near the bar, with a microphone up to her mouth. “Welcome, everyone, to Winterhaven and my wedding week.”
We all clapped and cheered, and the whole team started whistling.
“We all know that I like to keep things super low key—”
Someone coughed at that.
“But let me tell you the schedule so you don’t miss anything. Tonight is the pizza party welcome and karaoke.”
Karaoke? I mouthed to Hudson, and he nodded grimly.
“Tomorrow, we’re having a big barbecue in the Savage’s backyard.
Bring your own meat and a side to share.
Thursday, I convinced the movie theater to do a rom com marathon until midnight.
Friday is the rehearsal, so if you’re not in the wedding party, you get a day off.
And on Saturday, the wedding is at Main Street Park.
Then Sunday, do whatever you want because I’ll be on my honeymoon cruise, and I better see none of you there or I will throw you overboard. Except Dylan.”
She handed the mic to Dylan.
“Thank you, everyone, for coming to our wedding. We love and appreciate all of you. Dinner is on us tonight, but after this you’re on your own.”
“All you can eat pizza!” Gage shouted. Everyone laughed.
Dylan went to hand the mic to Rosie but then pulled it back really quick. “And I’ll help Rosie throw you overboard if we see you on the cruise ship.” He looked hard at Rosie’s three brothers, who gave them fake-offended looks.
“And now,” Rosie said, drawing out the word now, “karaoke! First up is a duet by none other than Hudson and Ameliaaaaa!”
We looked at each other, and Hudson shrugged, the corner of his mouth pulled up into a half smile.
“Did you know about this?” I asked.
“I knew I was singing. Not the duet part.”
“What do you want to sing?” I asked him as we walked together toward the mic and screen. I tried not to think too much about how sticky the floor was under my bare feet.
“I think the song’s been chosen for us,” he murmured with a look that said we were both in this no matter what. Quinn was shuffling beside him, holding his hand in her buttery, greasy one. I was going to have to pry her away from him with a crowbar when it was time for bed.
As I was handed a mic, and Hudson another, the familiar strains of “Somebody to Love” started to play.
The key to karaoke is to not take it too seriously.
The minute you start thinking you’re Mariah Carey (unless you’re Mariah Carey) it gets cringy to watch you.
But you get up there like you’re Weird Al, and everyone loves it.
A few bad dance moves, a willingness to ham it up for the crowd, and a semi-decent singing voice, and you’re a crowd favorite.
Luckily, Hudson knew the secret sauce too.
We sang to each other like we were delusional hopefuls trying out for American Idol.
At one point, Hudson lifted Quinn onto his back and stomped around to the pulse of: Find me somebody to love.
The rest of the restaurant joined in with us, singing along, and Quinn’s flushed cheeks and giggling made my heart feel like it was soaring.
This was how a little girl should look—not like she had the cares of the world on her shoulder, but full of limitless and innocent joy.
Hudson set Quinn down and took her hand to spin her around. I held out my hand and he spun me around as well. Quinn and I were like twin records, playing side by side.
I was so out of breath and smiling so hard, that when we held the note on the last word of the song, I had to take several breaths to carry it out. But Hudson was able to hold the note the entire time. He stopped spinning me and our gazes met as the final note cut off. And time stopped.
The music and cheers were muffled behind the buzzing in my ears. His intense blue eyes locked on mine, and suddenly it was impossible to breathe.
Then Quinn’s arms went around my waist, and I was sucked back into the real world, where my chest was rising and falling energetically as I caught my breath, and Rosie was queuing up the next song for her brothers to sing.
I stumbled back to my seat, my heart pounding way harder than was justified from spinning around a few times. Hudson joined us, acting normal. Like he always did. Friendly. Helpful. Completely adoring Quinn.
So why was I feeling so off-kilter?