Chapter 65
65
Hudson
I’m sitting in the team lounge, staring at my phone as it buzzes on the table in front of me.
I can’t think straight.
My brain is actual mush.
Normally, I pride myself on being quick-witted and funny, but right now, I can barely form a sentence, let alone a joke.
My brain’s been spinning since the press conference earlier. All I can think about is Dane’s pissed-off face.
Honestly, in Dane’s mind, I’m the worst thing that can ever happen to his sister.
It pisses me the fuck off, because none of that shit is true. I’m not a player. I’m an asshole. I let everyone think one way about me because it was easier, and now, I’m feeling the consequences of that decision, and it hurts.
Real bad.
Today has sucked.
Between Dane and the reporter’s smug smirk, as he dropped the wife bomb, I can’t catch a break.
Wife.
Shit. Every time I hear the word, I like it more and more. Something I can’t admit to Molly.
I’m married. That word feels both ridiculous and . . . not so ridiculous when I think about the fact that it’s to her.
It doesn’t feel wrong.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, leaning back into the plush leather couch. The room is quiet, empty except for me and the sound of my phone vibrating against the wood.
How is it still ringing?
Can’t they take a hint?
Welp, apparently not. Since it’s ringing again. Now for the third time. Something tells me this is going to be a bad day.
Finally, when it’s obvious the person isn’t giving up, I grab the phone and glance at the screen.
It’s my agent. What the hell does Travis want? Something tells me I already know.
I let it ring a few more times, not wanting to get reamed out again for my drunken Vegas antics.
It’s bad enough that I lived through the press conference, and I really don’t want to have part two.
“Travis,” I say, trying to sound unfazed. “If this is about that reporter, I already got the PR lecture.”
“Not about that,” Travis says. His voice is lighter than I would expect for this type of situation. “Though I did get an earful from the team’s PR team. Apparently, you and Dane are on media lockdown for a week?”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Lucky me.”
“Good timing, actually,” he says, his tone shifting. “It gives us a chance to talk about something big.”
“Big?” I sit up a little. Now I’m curious.
“You’ve got an offer.” His voice rises. I’ve heard him like this before, and it’s usually followed by a substantial cash value.
“An offer? You mean like an endorsement?”
“That’s right.”
“Let me guess.” I sigh, frustration bubbling up. “Another condom company? Oh, I got it, it’s a new tequila company, and they want me to pose with their stuff? Or maybe it’s an energy drink this time. Something to keep the ‘bad boy’ image alive.”
Travis chuckles. “Not this time, Hudson. This one’s different. It’s a cereal brand.”
I pause, my mind short-circuiting like an old computer that needs updating. “A cereal brand?”
“Yep. They want you to be the face of their new campaign.”
I blink, trying to process this. “You mean like a BDSM cereal brand?”
“Nope.”
“Are you messing with me?”
“Why would I mess with you about cereal?” Travis jokes before his voice becomes more serious. “Look, I know it sounds out of left field, but hear me out. This isn’t just any cereal. It’s family-oriented. Wholesome. They’re looking for someone with a relatable image who can appeal to parents and kids.”
Now it’s my turn to burst out laughing.
This is absurd. “Travis, have you met me? Wholesome? I’m the guy who got caught in a nightclub fight last year. I’ve been on the cover of tabloids more times than I can count. I’m not exactly ‘family-friendly.’”
“You were that guy.” His tone has me sitting up straighter. “But now? Things are changing. People are talking about you in a whole new light after today’s press conference. Married to a teammate’s sister? That’s gold, Hudson. I couldn’t have planned this better if I tried.”
“I’m not following.”
“You’re not just the bad boy anymore—you’re a family man.”
“Family man,” I repeat, the words tasting foreign on my tongue.
“That’s right,” Travis says. “And that’s why they want you. This cereal company sees an opportunity to reshape your image, to take you from reckless bachelor to someone parents can trust.”
This is absurd.
He can’t be serious.
My thoughts are spiraling with how ridiculous this is.
How is it even possible that he’s not pulling my chain right now? There is no way a cereal company would want me.
The last time he called me for an endorsement deal, it was for a condom company. How can my “marriage” change my perceived persona so quickly?
Is it really that easy? That simple.
I don’t respond right away because I can’t.
I’m actually at a loss for words.
Family man.
It shouldn’t be the furthest thing from reality since I did grow up in a close-knit home with strong family values, but I’ve been stuck with a reputation I didn’t deserve for so long, a part of me believes I deserve to still be there.
I don’t even know what that means for me yet. Sure, I’m married to Molly, but we’re trying to get the marriage annulled.
“This is insane,” I say finally.
“It’s not,” Travis counters. “It’s smart. Look, Hudson, you’ve always been marketable, but you’ve been stuck in a niche—sex, booze, and bad decisions. Now you’ve got a chance to break out of that. Think of this as a reset button for your career. Sponsors love a redemption arc.”
He makes a good point. They do love that . . . but for me? I’m not sure.
I glance out the window, the skyline of downtown Redville sprawling out beneath the setting sun.
“What’s the offer?” I’m wondering if it’s even worth contemplating.
“Seven figures,” Travis says smoothly. “And that’s just the starting point.”
My head snaps back like I’ve been hit. “Seven figures? For cereal?”
“For cereal,” he repeats. “They’re serious, Hudson. They want you for commercials, social media campaigns, and maybe even some charity events with kids. You’d be their flagship ambassador.”
“Damn.” I let out a low whistle. “Seven figures.”
That’s a shit ton of money. That’s the kind of money that will help . . . my family. If they let me.
“You still there?” Travis asks.
“Yeah.” I swallow. “Just . . . processing.”
“Look, I know this is a big shift,” he says. “But you’d be stupid not to at least consider it. This is the kind of opportunity most players never get, Hudson. You’d be broadening your appeal and setting yourself up for long-term success, even after hockey.”
All of this is nuts.
It’s so far from the image I fell into, but maybe that’s exactly what I need. I’ve lied for so long about who I am. Perhaps it’s time I take down the walls and show the world the real me.
The one who loves his family and wants one of his own.
“I’ll think about it,” I say finally.
“That’s all I’m asking,” Travis says. “I’ll send over the details. Take a look, talk it over with Molly—”
I cut him off. “She doesn’t know about this yet. Hell, she doesn’t even know about the press conference fallout. She’s going to kill me when she finds out.”
Travis laughs. “Good luck with that. But seriously, this is a good thing, Hudson. Don’t overthink it. Call me when you’re ready to move forward.”
“Yeah, thanks, Travis.”
I hang up and stare at my phone, the weight of the conversation settling over me.
Did that really just happen?
Did a cereal company just offer me a seven-figure endorsement deal?
I pinch the skin on my wrist. Nope, I’m not dreaming.
All of this is real, and the craziest part is that it all started with a drunken Vegas mistake.
A part of me wonders if that “mistake” is the best thing that has ever happened to me.
I leave the lounge and head to the parking lot, my thoughts still moving a mile a minute.
Molly told me before the press conference that she would meet me at my place. We haven’t spoken since, and does she know?
Will she be pissed?
Of course, she will be.
I should regret this, but I don’t. I don’t regret the leak, and I don’t regret the marriage, but what does that mean for the future?
Wholesome. Redemption. The words keep looping in my head, and for the first time, it doesn’t feel like a joke.
I pull out my phone and open my messages.
Hudson: Hey. We need to talk.
I stare at the message before hitting send.
This marriage might’ve started as an accident, but it doesn’t feel like one anymore.
Maybe it’s exactly what I need.