21. Giselle
Chapter 21
Giselle
A mixture of nervous and excited energy dances through me as I lock the door to my dance studio behind me.
It’s been thrumming through my person ever since I bumped into Hudson, and his older brother Blake – if I hadn’t already seen photographs of him; the almost copy and paste features which so closely resembled an older version of Hudson and the unabashedly watching of our conversation, definitely gave away his presence – at the coffee shop on the corner this morning.
I don’t know if it’s my nerves, or what, but I can’t count how many times I’ve caught myself clockwatching today. It feels like it’s taken an age until, finally, finally , my last class of the evening begins to wind down and I can get my arse out of there.
Wrapping my scarf around my neck to ward off the chill building outside and shrugging on my coat, I heft my gym bag over my shoulder and trek down the corridor, punching my ID number into the scanner beside the door to clock out for the evening, before I go.
I bypass Freddie, who is still serving drinks at the sports bar, and brace myself to face the freezing February beyond. I wish March would hurry up, bringing with it bright yellow daffodils and pretty pink cherry blossom, but for now, I guess I’m stuck with the remnants of winter and it’s nail biting clutches.
I’m halfway down the stone steps when I spot him, just as bundled up as I am, his hands tucked into his coat pockets to keep as warm as possible.
He watches every step I take, waiting for me to come to him, allowing me to make the first move when I’m ready and comfortable.
“I thought we were meeting at mine.”
“I didn’t want you walking in the dark, alone,” Hudson says, making my heart constrict in my chest.
This man…
How can I ever have thought him heartless?
I can’t stand myself for being so presumptuous; for applying labels to something I had no right to.
Pulling my left hand out of my own coat pocket, I turn my palm upright to the sky.
It only takes a second for Hudson to intertwine his much larger, and warmer, hand with mine, folding down his fingers, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the ridges of my bony knuckles.
“I’m guessing that was your brother, Blake, in the coffee shop this morning?” I ask as we walk, hips brushing.
“Yeah.” Hudson squeezes my hand, once, twice. “He wasn’t supposed to draw attention to himself, but that’s big brothers for you, always finding a way to embarrass me.”
That draws a giggle out of me, my knot of nerves in the pit of my stomach beginning to loosen.
“I’m glad he did. For a second there, I was worried you were out with another woman.”
Hudson halts in the street, unbothered by the tutting of the elderly woman walking behind as she has to step around us, heavy looking shopping bags in tow.
“I haven’t been with anyone else, Gee, I need you to know that.”
“Hudson—”
“I don’t want anyone else,” he continues. “I just want you.”
My heart does a little tap dance in my chest at his words.
I look up at him, the golden streetlamp casting a halo like glow over the crown of his head. His eyes are fixed on mine, thumb stroking the band of my ring.
“I want you, too, Hudson,” I admit with a soft smile. “Nobody else.”
He parts his lips, as if to say something, but thinks better of it and closes his mouth again.
I say silent too, keeping my hand in his as we make the short walk to my apartment block.
It’s only when I’m fumbling for my key, cursing the cold outside for making my fingers so numb and the stupid inventor who made women’s pockets so small and compact, that Hudson breaks the silence between us.
Cradling my hip with his hand, he presses his chest up against my back, reaching around to gently pluck the key from my frozen hand. “Here, let me.”
His raspy voice rumbles through my lean frame, sending electric shockwaves through my system, waking up parts of my body from their long slumber.
Nipples tightening beneath my sports bra, I turn around in Hudson’s arms, tilting my chin upwards to meet his gaze.
This tall height of his is both a blessing and a curse.
Sensing my eyes on him, Hudson’s lids lower to look at me, his other hand coming up to hold my waist, until I’m surrounded by him on all sides.
With a slight push, he has me up against the wall of my building, bending slightly at the neck to run the cold tip of his nose along the length of my neck.
“H-Hudson,” I stutter.
“Yeah?”
When I don’t reply, he pulls back, searching my face for answers. “Is this okay?”
I nod, unable to get the words out.
“Are you sure?”
“P-positive,” I all but whisper.
My hands feel like they have a mind of their own as the come up to grip Hudson’s sides, bringing his body into mine until there’s not an inch of space left.
“So, where do we go from here?” he asks.
I pop my shoulders. “Wherever we want, I suppose.”
Hudson tilts his head to one side, never once taking his eyes from mine. “And if I want to kiss you? Would you let me?”
I don’t even have to think about it; things between us aren’t perfect, far from it, but I don’t care for perfect. I never have. I care for real and raw, uncomfortable, and unfiltered. I care for whatever speaks to my heart and Hudson…
Hudson speaks directly to my heart.
In more ways than one.
A single nod of my head is all the confirmation Hudson needs.
He surges forward, hands tracing upwards, along the curves of my body, although I don’t think he can feel much with my coat and jumper in the way, stopping only when he can cup my jaw with his palms.
“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he mutters against my cupid’s bow before gently pressing his lips to mine.
They’re chapped from the cold, but I don’t care.
I kiss him back, my lips moulding to his, palming the back of his neck to keep him exactly where I need him the most.
Parting my lips on a whimper, I trace the tip of my tongue along the seam of Hudson’s mouth, sliding my tongue against his when he grants me entry.
Kissing Hudson is like slipping into a warm bath. It’s familiar and soothing, coating my skin, wiping my mind clean of everything except this moment.
He allows me to take as much of him as I feel ready to, without pushing. But when I wrap my left leg around his waist, urging him to pick me up, he groans his own approval into my mouth, wrapping both hands around my upper thighs and lifting me with ease.
I pull back for a breather, lungs tight and constricted, my head heady with the lack of oxygen and the feel good hormones running themselves ragged through my nervous system.
Hudson’s kiss bitten lips curl upwards into a boyish grin, imprinting themselves against one cheek and then the other, the tip of my nose – which is probably bright red from the cold outside – and the centre of my forehead.
I thread back his fringe with my fingertips, gliding my palm down the side of his face, past his pulse ramming against the side of his neck and down his sternum until I can slip my hand beneath the zipper of his coat and flatten my palm to the t-shirt and flesh below protecting his heart.
Lids drooping to half mast, Hudson holds me against the wall with only his right hand, placing his much larger left hand atop of mine. “I hope you know I wasn’t expecting this tonight, Gee. We don’t have to rush anything.”
I bob my head. “I know. I—”
The loud sound of Hudson’s phone ringing cuts me off.
“Sorry.” Ducking his head slightly sheepishly, which is so unlike him, Hudson wiggles his mobile from out of his coat pocket whilst I slither down his body, flattening my feet until I can touch the floor.
His eyes scan the contact ID flashing upon the pixilated screen, an unknown number by the looks of it, before he flicks his gaze to mine. “I need to take this.”
Nodding, I tip my head towards the door of my apartment. “I’ll be inside.”
Leaving him to his own devices, I slip into my kitchen, vehemently trying to ignore the dulcet tones of Hudson’s voice seeping through from the hallway.
It would be wrong to eavesdrop, but I can’t help but feel the tiniest bit suspicious about who is on the other end of the call…
Ripping open my small pantry cupboard, I rummage around to find a quick sweet treat I can nibble on to tide me over before dinner.
I inhale three Oreos in one go, licking the chocolate crumbs from my fingers while I react to a couple of skit videos Rosie is so keen on sending me.
Without really thinking about it, I end up scrolling through Instagram, double tapping a few pictures here and there.
I’m seven photographs deep when I stop my trawling, taking in the sudden sight of Hudson, a small baby girl giggling in his corded arms.
My heart squeezes at the sight. Hudson sports a matching grin, his eyes fixed on the child he’s holding.
God, this man. Every time I think I have him figured out; he ends up surprising me, showing me another side to him I didn’t even know existed.
A slip of my thumb and I find myself staring down at the usually busy selection of Hudson’s tagged photographs.
Except it’s almost empty.
Instead, a handful of rows fill the space, each more personal looking than the last. In each of them, Hudson is grinning, that smile I’ve come to love etched across his easy-going features. Some of them are blurry and imperfect – snapshots taken mid-movement or by surprise – but I find I like them better that way.
Gone are the images of random women, roaming hands and drunken kisses. Replaced by photos of Hudson’s family, laughing and joking; their love for one another plain as day.
I hear the door open and click shut, but I don’t look up.
It doesn’t take long for Hudson to find me, coming up behind me and wrapping his muscular arms around my waist. For a heartbeat, I close my eyes, basking in the familiar safety I’ve come to feel whenever I’m with him.
Placing his chin on my shoulder, he peers over to see what I’m looking at.
“Where are all your photos, Hudson?” I ask, quietly, practically holding my breath so I can hear his answer.
I don’t expect his rumble of laughter to vibrate through me as he moulds his hands to my hips.
“I knew you were a secret stalker, Gee.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m being serious.”
Turning me in his arms, he stares down at me, dipping to glance at my lips. With a shrug, Hudson runs the pad of his thumb along my jawline. “I deleted them.”
“Why?” I croak.
“Because I don’t need them.” He smiles softly. “They don’t serve me anymore. I don’t want you to see them, Gee. All I need is you; nobody else. Ever.”
My eyes sting with tears, my voice watery, but I don’t shy away from him. “Ever?”
“Ever,” Hudson confirms, cupping my head and bringing his lips to my hairline.
I sniff wetly, gripping at his biceps. “W-who was on the phone?”
Pulling back, I watch as Hudson takes a deep breath, the entirety of his ribcage and the top portion of his torso that I can see, expanding. “My therapist.”
I pause, staring up into those green eyes of his.
“Hudson…”
“It’s okay, Gee.” He swallows thickly, meeting my gaze head on. “You can ask.”
Nodding, I press my lips together tightly. “So, your therapist was on the phone?”
“Yep. I’ve got my first appointment with him next week.”
“I didn’t know you were in therapy…”
“It’s new. It was Dad’s idea, actually. The last time I spoke to him, we got talking and he-he mentioned the possibility of going to seek out a professional, a-a therapist. You know, to help deal with my emotional unavailability and my mother’s illness and—”
My heart sinks somewhere past my stomach.
“Your mum’s ill?”
“Not anymore, but she was when I was a boy. Breast cancer. It was a rough time for my family, for myself; my childhood wasn’t like everyone else’s, no matter how much my dad and brothers tried to keep a sense of normalcy going. It just wasn’t there. It’s only as I’ve gotten older that I’ve realised just how much it affected me and the way I navigate relationships…”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Hudson presses his lips together tightly. “I’m pretty sure it’s a fear of becoming close to someone and then potentially losing them. I watched my dad go through it, watched him become older and wearier, full of more frown lines, by the day. I watched him come and go to the hospital where Mum was receiving her treatment, his eyes lined red raw. It nearly destroyed him to know we were all so close to losing her, and I’m not sure I’d be strong enough to deal with it, head on, like my dad did.”
I can’t blink back the tears, instead letting them spill out onto my cheeks. “I’m really sorry you had to go through that, Hudson.”
“Thank you.” He presses his lips to mine ever so softly, as if he’s treasuring every second, using the backs of his fingers to wipe away my tears. “I’m working on it now, for me, for you. For us. So, we can be better together. Don’t cry, okay?”
“Okay,” I agree, feeling my heart swell in my chest.
God. I am so inexplicably, head-over-heels in love with this man, it almost hurts.
L ater, when we’re lying on the sofa, a mindless reality TV show playing in the background to soften the edges of an emotionally charged day, Hudson nudges at my hip. I peer over at him, my hand carding his hair back from his face, pausing in its tracks.
“Will you go out with me?”
I bob my head, not even bothering to hold back my giddy grin. “When?”
“How about Friday?”
“Friday?”
“Yeah.” Hudson nods, curving his large body around mine until I’m the little spoon. “Friday. Me. You. It can be our first proper date.”
“I like the sound of that,” I admit with a smile so big it makes my cheeks begin to ache.
“Good.” Hudson’s grin mirrors my own. “Me too. I’ll pick you up at seven, alright?”