Chapter Four Hudson
CHAPTER FOUR
Hudson
I turn over on my bed, slapping an arm across the mattress only to come into contact with a soft mound of a person. Ella.
The memories of last night flood back—her perfect lips, those hazel eyes, some of the best damn sex of my life. A contented moan escapes me as I curve a hand around her waist, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine.
But then, the thin sliver of hallway light seeping under the door catches my eye, jolting me from the remnants of last night’s haze. Panic sets in, a familiar unease that’s been my shadow for the last ten years.
I gently extract myself from the bed, careful not to wake Ella, and slip into the hall. Sourdough immediately pads up beside me. The silence of the house is unnerving as I move from room to room, double-checking each light switch, every potential hazard.
Levi’s door is shut, but when I knock, there’s no response. Pushing it open reveals an empty room, the bed made, and no sign of my roommate.
I push into his en suite bathroom, flicking on the light despite the hour, scanning for any forgotten candles or appliances left on. Nothing. The relief is immediate, but it’s shadowed by a wave of self-reproach.
I was so caught up with Ella, so lost in her, that I’d neglected my nightly ritual. One born from loss and a desperate need to control what little I could.
Sinking onto the closed toilet lid, I bury my head in my hands, allowing myself a moment to just breathe. To calm the racing of my heart and the irrational fear that, at any moment, everything could go up in flames.
Once the panic recedes, I stand and head back to my bedroom. The thought of rejoining Ella, of exploring more of what we’d started last night, sends a thrill of anticipation through me.
But as I push open the door, the scene that greets me isn’t what I expected. Ella is sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. Though she’s just as sexy as she was last night, there’s a tension in her posture now. A guardedness that wasn’t there before.
She looks up as I enter, and even when Sourdough jumps onto the bed to greet her, her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Hey,” I say, “everything okay?”
She laughs, gesturing to the rumpled bed. “Didn’t you say you don’t usually do this?”
“Do …?”
“One-night stands.”
I cock a brow. “No, I didn’t say that.”
She huffs. “I distinctly recall—”
“What I meant was … I don’t usually invite girls home after knowing them for all of five seconds. But I’m not sure that warrants explanation.”
“Right, because you’re Hudson Fox,” she deadpans.
“Is there a reason you’re using my full name?”
In response, she simply tosses me her phone.
My brow crinkles in confusion as I catch it, the name Gabi (Roomie 3) appearing at the top of a text chat.
I scroll up, stopping when I find that the last Sent messages are pictures of my license plate and ID.
They’re followed by an onslaught of replies from her friend.
Gabi: ARE YOU JOKING Gabi: HUDSON FOX??? Gabi: lol way to go all out on your first night here Gabi: he’s our star quarterback. not to slut shame but he very much uses that fact to his advantage Gabi: hope you have fun, tho! I’m sure he’s skilled at his craft jaja
Once I’ve finished reading the messages, confusion melts into amusement, followed by an acute sense of understanding.
“Is this roomie of yours Gabi Martín, by chance?” I ask, handing the phone back to her.
“That’s the one,” she says sharply.
“Figures.” Gabi is a sweetheart but a notorious gossip. A friendly acquaintance that loves to rib me any chance she gets.
“She’s my new teammate,” she adds, finally meeting my eyes.
“You’re on Whitland’s cheer squad?” I ask, panic rising in my chest. Technically, football players aren’t meant to fraternize with the cheer squad. It’s a rule set by our coaches to mitigate conflict on game days. A guideline meant to prevent complications and to avoid distractions.
“Yeah, I’m here for the year on a study abroad,” she explains.
“ Shit .” I rub the back of my neck, feeling a headache start to form. I assumed this was a one-off situation. An unforgettable night with a woman I’d never see again. “Well, you know, the sex was great and all, but—”
“Sorry?” She stands up, offended, cutting me off in the process. “Did I ask for a performance review?”
I give a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Uh, no? But you can give me one if you’d like.”
“Four stars,” she says, the edge still in her voice as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Room for improvement.”
“Bullshit,” I retort, “you came three times, darlin’.”
“Did I? Happens so often I can’t possibly remember them all.”
I snort. “Would you testify to that in a court of law?”
She doesn’t answer, just rolls her eyes and pushes past me on the way to the door. “If it wasn’t apparent,” she says, “I’m leaving.”
I move closer to her, placing a hand on the doorframe above her head and leaning into it. “You sure you don’t want to stick around? Go for four, maybe five if we both get lucky?”
“Look, as fun as last night was … I’m not really into the whole one-night stand thing,” she says, quieter now.
“It’s not me. I thought—I don’t know, that maybe it would help me get over …
” She pauses, and there’s a flicker of hesitation in her eyes before she shakes her head.
“Anyway, I should go. This was a mistake.”
My hand drops from the doorframe as she ducks under my arm and steps into the hallway. I follow her to the front of the house, waiting there as she slips on her shoes and opens the door.
“Hey,” I say, and she glances back, one hand poised on the doorknob. “Did you decide this was a mistake before or after you read Gabi’s messages?”
She offers me a guilty smile. “I, um, well—”
My lingering amusement fades into irritation. “I get it. You read a few scathing words, and now you think you know me. I appreciate the snap judgment. Truly.”
“This has zero to do with your reputation and everything to do with my own baggage.”
My jaw clenches. “Right.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but my ex-boyfriend of five years just dumped me out of the blue.
So, pardon me if I’m a bit skittish.” She chews her lower lip before continuing, “When we met last night, it was refreshing to talk to a man who didn’t know me at all.
And … maybe I just wanted one night to forget. To be reckless.”
“And when you woke up the next morning, you realized that I’m a real person, and decided that I didn’t measure up to your standards.”
She sighs, long and heavy.
“It’s fine,” I say before she has the chance to respond with some long-winded excuse. “But you’re right, you should go. Thanks for the four-star sex, though. I’ll see you around.”
She takes another careful step backward, mouth gaping, and then I shut the door on her with a soft click.
An hour later, I’m standing at the kitchen counter, nursing a steaming cup of coffee, when Levi finally shows up. His six-foot-three frame fills the doorway, messy blond hair falling into his eyes—a look that’s both boyish and tough at the same time.
Or, at least, that’s what he’s told me he’s going for. Repeatedly.
I’ve known Levi Montgomery since the start of freshman year. We were both wide-eyed rookies and much more naive then. On the field, he’s my loyal receiver. Off it, he’s a bit of a pain in the ass. A free spirit, whereas I pride myself on being disciplined.
He’s also my best friend, and with that comes a sort of trust I don’t give easily.
He pauses when he sees me, brows raised in a question. My arms are folded, and I’m giving him a pointed look. “Where were you last night?” I ask, sounding a whole lot like my nagging mother.
He shrugs nonchalantly. “Out with Sammy. Why, did you miss me?”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “No, but I woke up and the house was empty. No text, no note, nothing .”
“Sorry, Mom,” he quips, flashing a mischievous smile.
“Didn’t realize I needed to send a carrier pigeon with my every move.
” He moves to the fridge and takes out a carton of orange juice.
“I crashed at Sammy’s place after a late night.
Figured you wouldn’t care too much after picking up that girl at Sidetrack. ”
I tense slightly. “Yeah, well, she’s long gone now.”
His glass pauses halfway to his mouth. “She stayed the night?”
“Uh-huh.”
He snorts. “And what, you scared her off this morning?”
I shrug, staring down into my coffee. “She did hightail it out of here.”
He studies me for a moment, his smile fading. “Ah shit. What happened?”
“Nothing, just …” I trail off with a heavy sigh, setting my mug down on the counter with a little more force than necessary. Coffee sloshes over the edges. “It doesn’t really matter. It was meant to be a one-time thing, anyway.”
“So, what’s the problem?” he presses.
“The problem is that I unknowingly hooked up with Whitland’s newest cheerleader.”
His grin splits into a smirk. “Classic Hudson.”
“Yeah, well, she woke up and decided she made a mistake. After she got the lowdown on me from Gabi Martín. Now she thinks that I’m not good enough for her.”
He’s silent as I grab a towel and mop up the spilled coffee. “Want me to get one of the other girls to kick her ass?” he finally asks. “I know Claire could make her life hell.”
Despite myself, I crack a smile. “As tempting as that is, I’ll pass.”
He nods, taking a long swig of orange juice.
When he sets his glass down, his expression is serious.
“Forget about her. Any girl who writes you off after one night isn’t worth the energy.
” He points a finger at me. “And I’ll be honest, it sounds like a classic case of you wanting what you can’t have. You know Coach wouldn’t be happy.”
“It doesn’t matter, anyway. I don’t want her. I’m just annoyed by it all.”
He gives me a knowing look. “Sure, bud. And you’re definitely not reeling from your first taste of rejection.”
It’s true. It’s not something I deal with often. Over the last couple of years, women have come and gone as easily as the tide. That’s the only option. A routine that enables me to focus on my goals, my priorities, and let the distractions float away.
Though, last year, I admittedly took things too far. That’s why I’ve been holding back this summer—on both the booze and the girls. Last night was a fluke.
I scoff. “Maybe you should reel that back a minute, Levi. Think before you speak.”
“You really are quite grumpy today.” He snorts a laugh. “Either way, you’ve got better things to worry about. Like securing that letter of rec from Coach tonight.”
I let out a heavy breath, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly. “Shit, you’re right.”
“Eyes on the prize, my friend.” He claps me on the back. “You want to hit the gym before your meeting?”
I nod, my frustration dissipating. Levi’s right. I need to forget this morning’s rejection and keep my focus.
“Yeah, I’ll go change,” I say. “I could use a good workout to clear my head.”
I head up to my room, and my gaze instantly catches on the unmade bed, sheets rumpled and pillows askew.
For a moment, I see flashes of smooth skin and silky hair splayed across the white linen.
Vividly picture the way she curled against me as she came.
It was one of the hottest moments I’ve experienced, and it’s left me aching for more.
I close my eyes, shaking the image from my mind.
The gym is exactly what I need—a place to unload and reset. To forget about last night, and subsequently, the way I felt after she left this morning. It was frustrating, but it’s not something to fret over.
As I sift through a drawer for workout gear, Sourdough saunters in, tail high, a silent witness to my turmoil.
“You got something to say to me, too?” I ask him, expecting no answer but a soft meow in response.
Instead, he gives me a full-on snort of disapproval.
I shake my head, laughing in spite of myself.
“Even my own cat is giving me shit. Fine, I hear you. I’m moving on. ”
He hops onto my bed, curling up where Ella was lying mere hours ago, and turns his head away from me. Changing quickly, I bound back down the stairs toward my waiting roommate.
“You’ll be happy to know that the cat has joined your team,” I complain to him. “He thinks I’m being overly sensitive. Though, I’ll have you both know, I’ve already completely forgotten the whole thing. It’s done and dusted.”
“Right. When you bring it up again next week, do you want me or Sour to remind you what you just said?”
“Shut up.”
His loud laughter follows as I slam the door behind us, leaving the memory of Ella Davies—her seductive smile, those desperate little moans, and the lukewarm reception she gave me this morning—firmly locked inside.