Chapter Thirteen Ella
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ella
Luke is below me to the right while I stand on Ash’s shoulders. I carefully bend at the waist, leaning over his head as he braces both my hands in his. With as much speed and accuracy as possible, I push off his shoulders into a handstand position.
I’m upside down, my core is tight, my shoulders are open wide, and we’ve nailed a hand-in-hand stunt. I maintain the position for all of five seconds before twisting to the left to dismount. Luke claps Ash on the back before offering me a fist bump of my own.
That was my first time executing a handstand from that position, and it feels damn good.
“Nice work, Ella,” Ash says. “I don’t want to overinflate your sense of self-worth, but you’re a really quick learner.”
I laugh. “And?”
He quirks a brow. “And you have the technical skills to back it up.”
“I’ve been told that a time or two.”
“Alright, superstar. You want to try that again?” he asks. “Or do you want to work on our walk to hands?”
“Actually, I need to meet someone out front,” I say, wiping my sweaty palms on my shorts. “I’ve got a … friend coming to practice with us. He should be here by now.”
Luke and Ash just stand there, unmoving. “You have a friend we don’t know about?” Luke asks, masking his surprise poorly.
“It’s Hudson,” I tell them, attempting to sound casual as I gather my things.
They continue to stare at me, unblinking, confusion lining their faces. I roll my eyes, and add, “Fox,” as if there were any other Hudson I could be referring to.
Their jaws drop simultaneously. The sight would almost be comical if it weren’t so annoying.
“Mr. All-American?” Luke scoffs. “Are you serious?”
Ignoring the question and their shell-shocked reactions, I check my phone to find a message from Hudson saying he’s arrived. “Yes, and he’s outside waiting for me. So, if you’ll excuse me …”
I make my way towards the exit before they can ask any more questions. Once outside, I spot Hudson leaning against his truck, dressed down in a casual T-shirt and athletic shorts, his hair pushed back, showcasing that same daring smile that always seems to find its way onto his face.
A familiar flutter stirs in my chest at the sight of him, but I quickly push it aside.
We’ve decided to just be friends, and I need to stick to that.
I won’t allow myself to expect more than he’s willing to give, and I certainly won’t be the one to offer it to him again. Two rejections are more than enough.
“Hey,” I call out as I approach.
“Hey,” he says, his gaze lighting up as he tracks my movements.
“You ready to work?”
“I might be rusty,” he warns, a playful edge to his voice.
My brow hitches. “You mean you haven’t cheered in five years, and you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing?”
He tips his chin up defiantly, but there’s an undeniable sparkle in his eye. “If I meant that, I would have said it. I’m gonna kick your ass in there, Davies.”
“The guys are here, too,” I say. “Just so you know. Luke and Ash. We’re working on more partner stuff.”
He nods, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “Lead the way.”
We walk towards the entrance of Skyline together, pushing open the heavy doors into the echoing hall.
It’s filled with energy tonight, athletes of all ages and ability here for open tumble.
I lead Hudson over to where Ash and Luke are stretching, their expressions bemused at the sight of us together.
We spend a minute or two on introductions. Hudson awkwardly explains how he used to cheer back home in Texas when he was younger. The boys respond with skeptical looks, but I can tell Hudson isn’t bothered by it in the slightest. That man’s confidence is a solid rock.
“Alright, then,” Luke finally grunts, clapping his hand against his thigh. “Let’s get started.”
I partner up with Hudson, scratching my head at where to start, and the other two circle us like hawks. Hudson’s strong, sure, but he hasn’t practiced partner stunting in years. It takes consistency and dedication to maintain this type of skill.
There’s also a lack of trust between us, and trust is crucial for success and safety. We need to build that, and fast.
Ash steps in, breaking the silence. “Is there anything you feel comfortable starting out with? Maybe something basic to get your bearings?”
Hudson takes a step back, running a ragged hand through his hair. “Honestly, I’ll let the experts take the reins here,” he says with a half-smile. Luke and Ash exchange a quick look.
“Okay, let’s start with some beginner full ups,” Ash decides, turning to demonstrate with me. We execute a flawless walk to hands, showing the smooth mechanics of the stunt. After I dismount, Hudson manages a tight half-smile, half-grimace.
“Alright, let me give you the grips,” Ash says, laughing, before he runs through the sequence with me.
“She’ll give you her right foot first,” he explains, positioning Hudson’s hands.
“You can place your index finger on her heel, the palm of your hand covers the ball of her foot, and then you’re gonna cup your other hand beneath just to help throw it.
So, we’re gonna throw, release, and then regrab all with that same hand. ”
I chime in, hoping to ease his nerves. “What I’m going to do is push right over you,” I say, using my whole body to mimic the motion in a twirling gesture. “I’ll keep a straight line down from my shoulder to my hip, all the way through to my ankle.”
“When you go up,” Ash adds, tapping Hudson, “remember to keep your right elbow in. Don’t flare it. Got it, QB?”
Hudson gives him a two-finger salute. “Loud and clear.”
Luke chuckles, stepping back to give us all some space. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got, Fox.”
With Ash acting as our spotter, I’m confident we’ll be okay. Hudson looks at me, his eyes serious but with a hint of the challenge that I’ve come to expect. “Ready?”
“Whenever you are,” I say. We position ourselves, and I place my right foot in Hudson’s hands, just like we practiced.
“On three,” Ash counts down for us. “Down, up!”
Hudson’s arms extend, lifting me into the air. The world spins as I execute the full up, relying entirely on Hudson’s grip and my own muscle memory. It’s a quick pop-up before I’m standing above him, arms raised in a high V.
“Hell, yeah,” Ash calls from the ground enthusiastically, and then, “Hop down.”
It’s not perfect, but when my feet hit the mat, Hudson’s grin is wide, and there’s a cheer from the guys beside us. The relief on his face is clear, and he actually laughs—a sound of genuine delight.
“Not bad for a rusty old man,” I tease, punching him lightly on the arm.
“Not bad at all,” Hudson agrees, his earlier confidence fully restored. “So, what’s next?”
Ash, already scrolling through his phone for a video tutorial, looks up with a smirk. “Oh, we’ve got plenty more to show you. Hope you’re ready for a long night, Fox.”
“Bring it on,” Hudson says playfully. “I’m just getting started.”
We spend the next hour moving through more variations of full ups, from a bump and go all the way to the top, Hudson’s arms immediately pushing me through to platform. There are a few bobbles here and there, but for the most part we keep nailing it.
His hands are extra careful, gripping me firmly, lingering even after I’ve safely dismounted, as if he’s afraid I might slip right through them.
Each touch is electric. A tight grasp here, a prolonged hold there.
It reminds me of the last time his hands were on me—steady and unyielding. A night when we both let ourselves go.
That memory isn’t one I can easily forget. It was the first time I felt so completely in sync with my own body. The last time I orgasmed with a partner. After years of steady—albeit mildly dissatisfying—sex, that sort of heat is hard to ignore.
I’m exhausted by the time Ash and Luke suggest peg leg full up. It’s a multi-base stunt that requires a little more finesse than I think I’ll possess in this moment. So instead, I collapse onto the mat behind me, catching my breath.
“Why don’t you three go for it.” I wave my hand in their direction, eyes closed, not bothering to spare them a glance.
When Hudson’s low laugh echoes throughout the gym, I push onto my elbows to take a look. Ash and Luke are sizing him up, trying to decide if he’s light and limber enough for them to push into the air.
“Hey.” Hudson holds up both hands in his defense. “I never said I was a flyer.”
Ash tosses a wink in my direction. “Oh, anyone can do it. Isn’t that right, El?”
I sigh. “Has anyone told you lately that you’re a piece of shit?”
Ash’s laugh rings out in the open space. “Only daily, but who’s counting?”
I push myself to stand, brushing off my shorts as they get ready for the peg leg full up. Luke, who’s decided he’s the lightest—and therefore the least likely to cause a catastrophic injury—steps forward with an enthusiasm that’s as infectious as it is misplaced.
“Down, up!” they chant, lifting Luke into the air. His legs kick out wildly before he comes crashing down amid a tangle of limbs. The mat thuds under the impact, and a collective wince ripples through the gym.
“Maybe a little less kick, more control?” I suggest, trying to swallow my amusement.
Luke stands up, dusting himself off. “Yeah, no kidding.”
They try again. And again. Each attempt ends in a similar mess of arms and legs and laughter, each fall slightly more controlled than the last, but it’s clear they’re nowhere near pulling it off. After the tenth tumble, I’m half convinced they’ll end up in the emergency room if they keep at it.
“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” I finally declare, stepping forward to halt their next attempt. “Before one of you breaks something. And by ‘one of you,’ I mean all of you.”
“Aww, you really care about me, don’t you, Ella?” Luke teases, his grin wide as he rubs at a burgeoning bruise on his forearm.
“I mean, we’re going to need a spotter at Nationals, right?” I shoot back, half-joking, half-serious.
Ash perks up at this. “You want to enter the partner competition?”
“I thought maybe we could,” I say with a shrug. “Gabi thinks we have a fighting chance.”
“Claire’s gonna throw a fit,” Luke mutters under his breath.
“Aww, Claire can get her panties in a twist all she wants,” Ash says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’ve been wanting to enter but haven’t found a flyer I gel with as well as you.”
“Then it’s settled.”
While we shake on it, Hudson watches us with a cool curiosity, his arms folded across his chest, biceps bulging under the strain.
I catch his eye and hold it, trying to decipher what’s running through his mind.
But as usual, Hudson is a vault. Despite him opening up about his past with cheer, there are so many things he still seems to keep under lock and key.
But maybe that’s how it should be. Some mysteries aren’t meant to be solved, at least not by me.
It’s nearing ten o’clock, and the intensity of practice has finally wound down. Ash, rubbing at his sore shoulder, turns to me. “Ella, do you mind if we grab some food on the way home?”
I hesitate, my mind already on the stack of textbooks waiting on my bedside table. “I really wanted to get home to catch up on some reading.”
Hudson, overhearing our exchange, flicks a hand up and offers, “I can give you a ride if you want.”
Again, I hesitate. Taking a ride from Hudson means more time alone with him, more time to feel that awkward tension between us. More time to think about how I offered myself up to him on a silver platter, and he outright rejected me in favor of us being friends .
“Come on, Ella. I don’t bite,” he says, a playful edge to his voice that breaks my resolve.
“Fine,” I finally relent, throwing caution to the wind. “Why not?”
I tell the boys that I’ll see them tomorrow, and we walk out to Hudson’s truck. I’m trying to keep my composure, but my heart thumps a nervous rhythm.
“You know, you really weren’t bad in there,” I say quietly.
“You should see me do a layout,” he replies, a challenging look in his eyes that somehow sends a thrill through me. “Tumbling’s more my thing. Still reminds me of those days in the backyard.”
“How about next time?”
“You want me back?” He raises an eyebrow, opening the truck door for me.
I lick my lips. “Yeah, I’ll allow it,” I say, and then I take his hand, step up into the truck, and he closes the door behind me with a soft click.