Chapter 18
The ride back to Willow Street was a sleepy sort of quiet, accented with the heavy breathing of Simon in the seat beside me.
His head was propped up against the window, and his eyes were open, but every few seconds, they’d droop low like he was fighting to stay awake.
Derrick had the radio on, but it was playing a slow jazz song, one with lyrics that could’ve doubled as a lullaby.
I, however, was wide awake, the sugar in the marshmallows and the adrenaline of the night hitting me all at once.
Hudson had won the first ATV race, and the friend group spent turns going back and forth for at least another hour, racing with laughter echoing in the night.
I felt warm and fuzzy on the inside with the sounds still lingering in my ears.
The happy realization that I got to be in those moments with these people was nothing short of a gift.
It was a gift, but one that felt like it was really a loan.
The experience was like a trailer of a movie, seeing all the good snippets, getting reeled in, but never able to watch the whole film.
I could only have this moment by sneaking around, by lying, by rebelling, and for some reason now, it hurt.
It was like something had wedged underneath my ribcage.
I wished that I could’ve had both—my parents’ approval and these moments of rebellion and excitement.
But that wasn’t reality. It wouldn’t ever be.
A moment to enjoy for now, but not forever.
Derrick’s brakes cried out as he eased Betsy to the side of Willow Street, flipping off his headlights in the process. “Thank you for the ride,” I told him, touching the shoulder of his seat. “And thank you guys for letting me hang out with you tonight.”
I gave the passenger seat headrest one last glance, chest tingling. I climbed from the car, smiling at Simon, who had peacefully succumbed to sleep.
But I wasn’t the only one who climbed out. Hudson pulled himself from the car, ducking his head in. “I’ll walk her to her house and then come back.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“It’s almost midnight,” he replied, shutting the door. Just like that, it was the two of us. “And it’s not far. I don’t mind.”
We walked along the sidewalk, where the dim streetlights only illuminated a small sliver.
They mostly covered the road, and with the trees lining the boulevards, light only streamed through in small splotches.
With each step we took, our hands swung to and fro from each other.
I could feel the miniscule breeze his created brush the back of my palm, hinting at how close we were to touching.
It was the electricity from the night, surely, that sparked the thought of me pushing my hand an inch closer to him. I could almost imagine it—reaching out and trailing my fingers along the backs of his. Would he jerk away? Would he weave our fingers together? Probably not.
But what if he did?
The idea freaked me out, but almost in a good way.
“You know, the next thing on my list is to pull an all-nighter,” I told him in a bright voice, wrapping my arms around my waist. “We should do one tonight.”
“Trust me, school is already going to be rough tomorrow staying up this late. You’ll regret this in the morning.”
“I won’t.” My voice came out strong. It was forceful enough that he looked down at me again, eyebrows raised. “I won’t regret it.”
Sometimes, when I looked into Hudson’s eyes, it was like time sort of…
slowed. It didn’t stop, but it was enough of a hiccup that had my brain reeling.
Because looking into his eyes left me feeling off-balanced in a way I’d never felt before, like my feet were slipping on uneven ground.
It felt like he saw me, deeply, and vice versa, I wanted to see him.
Severing the connection, I continued walking.
Hudson followed me to the garden gate that I’d escaped through mere hours before, and we both took a moment to look at my dark house.
All of the lights were off, and I breathed out a sigh of relief at the confirmation.
If my parents noticed I was gone, every light would be on.
There’d probably even be police cars in the driveway.
“You know what I’m surprised about?” he asked before we stepped into my yard, lingering in the shadows.
The wind swept past us, stirring his hair.
“You have this whole rebellion list, but there isn’t a single relationship one on there.
I would have at least expected ‘have my first kiss’ would be on there. ”
“I’ve already had my first kiss.”
If I’d known Hudson’s expression would be so comical, I would’ve tried to have taken a picture on my junky phone. His eyebrows flew up on his forehead, and his jaw even dropped. “You already had yours?”
I laughed quietly as I recalled it. “We were at a birthday party for Jaden’s mom in the eighth grade and Morgan dared me to kiss him while no one was looking. Maybe that’s why he’s always around now.”
“You should’ve broadcasted it, then. I doubt you’d have gotten your prude label if people knew.”
True. I hadn’t thought about that. I wondered if people would be as shocked as Hudson was if they found out. Something else occurred to me, though. “But, hey, I’m trying really hard not to be offended that you’re so shocked. When was your first kiss?”
Hudson stared at the siding of my house, almost pointedly so.
“No way. No way. You haven’t had your first kiss?” I gasped when he didn’t deny it. “Hudson Bishop, I’m seriously convinced your entire life is a lie!”
He ducked his head, and a small smile curled over his lips, one that looked more uncomfortable than anything else. “I know, I know. I’m an embarrassment to bad boys everywhere.”
My amusement sobered a little as I thought about why Hudson might not have had his first kiss.
Ever since his freshman year, he’d been an outcast, someone that no one got to know.
Even students from other schools knew of the illustrious Grim Reaper.
Of course he wouldn’t have had his first kiss. He hadn’t had a chance.
Hudson suddenly leaned down to bring his face level with mine, close enough that I could see each of his individual lashes, even in the darkness. When he blinked, they brushed against the tops of his cheekbones, against the scar on his cheek. “I could have mine now,” he said.
“Your what?”
“My first kiss.”
I sucked in a breath at how casually he dropped the words, how calm his expression was. I could have mine—once I understood exactly what he meant, my heart stopped and then kicked into overdrive, spurred on by something teasing.
“Think about it, how much more rebellious can you get?” His voice dropped to a low murmur as he leaned in, eyes sparking. “Kissing the bad boy?”
A thrill darted down my spine, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin.
Back on the sidewalk, when I’d thought about holding his hand—had he been thinking about it too?
When I wiped the chocolate off his mouth—had he been thinking about kissing me then?
With the way he was staring at me now, I couldn’t tell. “You wouldn’t kiss me.”
Hudson leaned closer, body slipping deeper into my personal space. The scent of him was everywhere, dizzying me further. “You sure about that?”
I could see where his scar was cut into his cheek, a little divot of where the skin stitched itself together. Much like before, I wanted to reach out and trace my finger along the seam. “Yes.”
His lips stretched into a half-smile, but it wasn’t the usual mocking one I’d become accustomed to from him. It was much more boyish and slanted in a way that magnetized my eyes to them, noting how full his lower lip was, wondering what it’d feel like. “How about now?”
I was embarrassingly aware of how loud my breath was, and I could fight to play it cool all that I wanted, but nothing stopped my knees from shaking.
He wouldn’t kiss me, I thought unsteadily, unable to pull away.
It was like the ice in his blue eyes froze me.
He wouldn’t kiss me, he wouldn’t kiss me.
Hudson reached up and pressed the pad of his thumb to the corner of my mouth, exactly as I’d done earlier in the night.
The second he touched me, my lips parted a sliver on their own accord, a tiny gasp escaping me at the whisper of contact.
The suffocating tension of that moment resurfaced easily now, and my mind was already playing the scene out with startling clarity, imagining what it’d be like if he replaced his thumb with his mouth.
He wouldn’t kiss me.
And then a new voice, as clear as day. But you want him to.
His fingers slid from my lips to curve against my throat. “Wow, feel that heartbeat. Nervous, Gemma?”
I held perfectly still, hyper-focused on his closeness, waiting for him to lean in.
“Now you know how I felt when you touched my mouth.” Hudson trailed his fingers through the hair above my ear now, threading the locks in a way that made me shiver. “You’re lucky the others were around then. I probably would’ve kissed you if they hadn’t been.”
“Not now?” I asked stupidly, the strange desire overtaking obvious rational thought. I’d made myself fully transparent with two simple words.
He tucked my hair over my shoulder, eyes following the movement before they slid up to mine. “Not now,” he repeated, pulling away from me entirely. The wind tugged at his hair, trying to push it into his eyes, trying to push him back to me. “Now, it’s time for you to go inside.”
Hudson looked toward my house, which gave me a moment to snap my jaw shut and force the heat from my cheeks.
My heart was decelerating into normal territory, but my thoughts were still spinning, still caught in my imagination.
Why not now? I wanted to ask him, but I’d had enough embarrassing moments for one night.
I didn’t need him to explain the reasoning behind the rejection.
“How are you getting back in?” Hudson asked, resting his hand on the metal gate.
“See that window right there? The one that’s cracked? I’m going in through that.”
“Are you going to jump the five feet to get to the sill, then?”
His words came like a pin to a balloon, popping it and releasing the shock. My stomach flipped as I spotted the fatal flaw in my plan much too late.
The way Hudson laughed cut into my momentary lapse in judgement, and then, so effortlessly, he did exactly what I’d been imagining the entire walk home.
He reached down and plucked my hand up from my side, the coolness of his fingers enveloping the heat of mine, and he drew me through the gate. “C’mon, I’ll be your stepladder.”
Having Hudson Bishop this close to my house was bound to give me a panic attack, but I let him escort me to the window anyway, if only to memorize how his fingers felt against mine.
His were very fine, much thinner than mine, but they weren’t delicate.
His knuckles were a bit knobby, but I liked them. I liked everything about his hands.
Which made it hard when he let go to link his fingers together, gesturing me to step into them. “I’ll hoist you up.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m wearing a skirt.”
Hudson tipped his head at me. “I’m not going to look, Gem.”
Without a word, I stuck my pinky out to him, narrowing my eyes.
Hudson unlinked his fingers to wrap his littlest finger around mine, giving it a squeeze. But then he didn’t let go, and neither did I, and we stared at each other with our fingers entwined. We were back to the moment from minutes ago, teetering on the edge of something.
“This weekend,” Hudson said softly. “This weekend, we could pull the all-nighter. If you wanted.”
I tried hard not to react, either in excitement or terror. “Are you sure you won’t regret it?”
Hudson took a step closer to me, huddling deeper in the shadows that the house provided from the moonlight. He was close enough that I could hear the air tug between his teeth as he smiled. “Trust me,” he said, his pinky still around mine. “I’m having more fun with you than I’ve had in a while.”
A stupid grin crossed my face, and I lifted my shoulder, leaning my head toward it. “So, you’re happy that you agreed to our friendship?”
“More like I was forced into our friendship, since someone wouldn’t leave me alone, but yeah.” He glanced down at our hands, something splitting across his gaze. “I am happy.”
Was this…flirting? The back and forth, the way we spoke, the way he’d touched me moments ago… The realization came in a swift stab to my stomach. It was. I was flirting with Hudson Bishop, and Hudson Bishop was flirting back.
A startled laugh burst from me, one that had his eyes widening.
I dropped his pinky, and he linked his own fingers together again, crouching once more.
“Keep your promise,” I whispered, and he squeezed his eyes shut.
His lashes fanned across his cheekbones like little wisps, and I imagined brushing my fingertip across them, wondering how they’d feel.
Instead of acting on my weird thoughts, I put my sneaker into his hands and grabbed ahold of his shoulders to steady myself. The denim of his jacket was cool, but his shoulders were firm, reassuring. “Thank you,” I whispered. “For tonight. For letting me have fun with you.”
His expression softened, despite his eyes remaining shut, warming the cold night. “Thank you.”
There was no struggle as Hudson lifted me up to the window, and though my awkward crawl inside might not have been that graceful—but thankfully not noisy—I couldn’t help but grin as I looked down at him, feeling a bit like Juliet looking down at Romeo.
He had his eyes shut still until I spoke. “Goodnight, Hudson.”
“Goodnight, Gem,” he whispered back, lifting his hand in a small wave. He couldn’t linger—he couldn’t risk getting caught by my parents or a nosy neighbor—but I found myself wishing that he could’ve. That I could’ve leaned out this window all night talking to him. Just listening to his voice.
But he turned around and crossed the lawn quickly, hesitating at the gate. He was too far for me to make out his expression, but my heart squeezed anyway as I gave another last wave.
I wasn’t the sort of person who kept a diary, but for the first time, I wished that I did.
I wanted nothing more than to record this night and keep it forever, to take it out once in a while and relive it all over again.
Instead, I recorded the night in my heart as I padded to my bedroom, easing the door open with what had to be a euphoric smile on my face.
I’d shut it behind me before I noticed I wasn’t alone. A figure sat on the floor beside my bed, leaning against the mattress. “Well, well,” he said, sighing. “This is a surprise, isn’t it?”
Landon.