Chapter Seventeen Hudson
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Hudson
I’m bent over the stool in our entryway, tying my shoe, when I hear Levi heading my way.
“Whatcha up to, bud?” he asks, practically galloping into the living room.
“Getting ready to go to Skyline.”
He flops onto the couch, instantly manspreading, tossing his arms over the back. “Aren’t you beat? We just got done with a three-hour practice.”
I shrug. “Still got some juice left in the tank.”
He tips his head back and cocks his eyebrow. “The sacrifices you make to spend more time with your girl.”
I roll my eyes. “I just like being back on the mat. Nothing else to it.”
“You know what?” He perks up in his seat. “Maybe I should tag along.”
“No.”
His green eyes narrow. “What? Am I not invited to the cool kids’ club? You know, this is really gonna give me a complex if you—”
“Will you quit?” I cut in, exasperated. “You can come if you want, but you’re not gonna be any good at it.”
“Says who?”
“Says the guy who knows what he’s talking about. It’s not as easy as it might look.”
He snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can’t be any harder than football.”
“Trust me,” I retort, pulling on my jacket.
“It’s a whole different arena. It requires precision, timing …
and flexibility.” I smirk at the last bit because I know, from our years of shared locker rooms and the sight of Levi’s failed attempts to touch his toes post-practice, that he is about as flexible as a two-by-four.
“Hmm,” he says, pretending to assess the situation. “Well, I have all those things in spades, so count me in.”
“Sure you do.”
“Don’t worry, Hudsy. A little competition never hurt anyone.”
I don’t dignify his comment with a response. But I am willing to let him see how he does. Levi’s always been short on humility and long on bravado, but there’s no harm in giving him a taste of reality. It might even do him some good.
“So, what time are we leaving?” he asks, lazily stretching on our couch.
“I’m standing at the door with my jacket on and keys in hand. When do you think?”
“Right.” He jumps up like he’s been shot and darts toward his room.
I wait for him in the hallway, tapping the toe of my shoe against the tile flooring. After a few minutes, Levi is back with a gym bag slung over his shoulder and an annoying grin on his face. He saunters up to me, all confidence and his awkward version of swagger.
“Ready?” he asks, looking at me with a mischievous gleam in his eye.
I sigh. Levi’s already making this more difficult than it needs to be, but I nod. I don’t want any more delays.
I lead the way out, Levi close on my heels, and we drive the short distance to Skyline in relatively comfortable silence. Thank God for small mercies. Once we’ve arrived, I jump out of my truck, eager to get back on the mat.
Levi, however, seems more interested in the building we’re about to enter. He gapes at it like he’s never seen a gym before, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. “This place is fucking huge.”
“Sure is,” I say. “Hey, while we’re in there, could you maybe consider, like, raising your hand before you speak?”
He scoffs. “I’m not a child.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
We head inside to pay for our two-hour open gym session at the front desk. Before I can give Levi further instructions, he takes off, running toward the familiar group of people in the back corner. This time, it’s not just the boys and Ella here, but Sammy and Gabi, too.
“Oh hell,” I mumble, my fingertips rubbing at the bridge of my nose. He’s like a dog off a leash—unpredictable and hard to control.
“Hudson!” he bellows, his voice ringing out through the gym. “Hurry up!”
Sure enough, as I stride over, Levi’s in the center of everyone, an arm slung around Ash, who looks both amused and mildly uncomfortable. Ella’s standing next to him, a bemused smile on her lips that makes my chest tighten.
Sammy gives us an odd look. “Dare I ask what you’re doing here?”
“Hudson’s a bona fide cheerleader,” Levi says. “I’m just here for extra flair.”
Sammy smirks, stepping forward with a challenge in her eyes. “Well, flair is one thing, but can you actually lift anyone? Or are you just here to fuck around?”
Levi’s grin broadens. “Lift? Please, I can probably lift you and Gabi at the same time—one-handed.”
“That so?” Gabi quips, eyeing him skeptically. “Prove it.”
With little hesitation, Levi’s roped into being an extra spotter for some of the stunts. The girls decide it’s best to start him off slowly, despite his protests to be thrown straight into high-level skills.
Ella and I split off with Ash after a few minutes of watching Levi make a fool of himself.
We move to the power spring floor, to focus on tumbling.
The bouncier surface is ideal for what I need to reacquaint myself with: a roundoff, which I haven’t executed perfectly since my high-school days.
Sure, I’ve messed around here and there.
Done a few backflips as a party trick. But nothing as daunting as what I’m about to attempt now.
“I know you’ve done this before. Supposedly,” Ash adds with a sarcastic wink. “But just remember that it’s all about the setup.”
I nod, breathing slowly, focusing on the mechanics that I haven’t practiced in a long time. The muscle memory must still be there somewhere.
I back up to the starting point, shake out my arms, and then charge forward. My hands hit the mat, pushing off hard, but my timing is off. The roundoff is shaky, unpolished. I land with a thud, rather than lightly and controlled like I’m aiming for.
I glance over at Ella and catch her watching.
“Not bad for a first try in years,” she comments, her voice neutral but her eyes kind. “You’re rushing the takeoff. Let the momentum build a bit more before you snap down.”
“Got it,” I reply, grateful for the guidance. Ash steps in, giving a few more pointers about hand placement and hip rotation. I take a moment, then reset, focusing on Ella’s advice and Ash’s technical tips.
This time, when I sprint toward the mat, I pace myself better. Hands down, legs up, snapping down at just the right moment. I stick the landing, a solid finish that has me grinning with relief.
I glance back to Ella, searching her face for any sign of approval. Her lips twitch into a small smile.
“Much better,” she says, a measured sort of praise.
While I’m catching my breath, Ash is busy setting up for the next phase of our training, laying down a row of chalk crosses to extend the roundoff into more complex tumbling passes.
“This is a good way to play with angles,” he says. “It’ll help you learn how to steer your momentum.”
As Ash works, Ella and I stand aside wordlessly. Her eyes meet mine, filled with an emotion I can’t quite decipher. Finally, she breaks the silence. “You were really serious about this, weren’t you?” I can tell it’s a genuine question, not laced with any mockery or condescension.
My gaze is steady. “About what, exactly?”
She waves a hand around the gym. “Cheer.”
“Ah.”
“You really let your guard down when you’re here, you know? I can see the look in your eyes when you nail something. It’s the same one I see in the mirror after a good practice. It’s a glimmer of … unfiltered joy, I suppose.”
“Maybe,” I confess. “There’s a certain thrill in it. A different kind of adrenaline than I’m used to.”
She grins at that, strangely satisfied by my response. “You mean to say that cheer is a better sport than football?”
“If I meant that,” I say, “I would have said it.”
She laughs. “Because you always mean what you say, huh?”
“You already know me so well, Davies.”
She gives a humorless snort, and then Ash calls us back over.
We’re guided through a tumbling exercise using the formations he’s set up.
A series of three roundoffs onto the first X, followed by the second and third.
It’s a game to help us set, to help build our air awareness, and I have to admit, I’m really fucking awful at it.
I stumble my way through the first few rounds but manage to get back up and try again—each time better than the last. Finally, I string together a perfect series of roundoffs. And then I move onto two back handsprings followed by a layout—landing solidly on my feet.
My heart pounds with exhilaration as I turn around, panting, to assess Ella’s reaction.
For the first time since we started our training session, she flashes me a big smile. When she steps forward to meet me, her hazel eyes are sparkling. “That was impressive,” she says sincerely. “Brilliant, actually.”
I can’t suppress the grin that splits my face. “Thanks,” I manage, still catching my breath. “Feels good.”
Her gaze lingers on mine before she abruptly smooths her palms over her thighs and steps back. “Well, I’m gonna see what the others are up to.” There’s an awkward pause as she hesitates, then turns and walks away, her stride quick and purposeful.
I watch her go, the flush of success cooling into confusion. Was it that obvious how much I craved her praise, and was she hoping to deny me the satisfaction of it?
Ash claps me on the back, breaking into my thoughts. “You’re pretty good, Fox. You should leave your team and join us instead.”
I laugh, though it’s hollow. “Yeah, I’ll just throw my scholarship money in the garbage. Sounds good.”
“Ah, that’s why I’ve got student loans. It’s just imaginary money until it isn’t,” he jokes, but his expression changes once Ella’s out of sight. “What’s your play with her, by the way?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s obvious how much you want Ella,” he says plainly. “And you know she wants you, too. So, what’s the hang-up?”
“You aren’t into her?” I deflect, trying to gauge his intentions.
“Didn’t say that.”
“You are into her, then?” I press on, attempting to control a rising irritation.
“Didn’t say that, either.” He tips his chin, a small smile playing on his lips. “You answer my question, I’ll answer yours.”
I sigh. “There are … a lot of external factors standing in our way.”
He scoffs. “What a political bullshit answer.”
“Well, it’s all I have,” I say, my gaze drifting back to Ella, who’s now working on a stunt with Luke while Levi balances Sammy and Gabi on either shoulder.
“Well, then I’m gonna keep my feelings to myself, too,” Ash says. “Do I want something more with Ella? I guess that’s one secret you’ll never know.”
As he saunters away, I mutter the word “asshole” under my breath just loud enough for him to hear.
“Hey!” he calls over his shoulder. “I heard that!”
“Good!” I shout back, rolling my eyes. “I wanted you to!”