Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
Hudson
A s we stepped into the school, I tightened my grip on Presley’s hand, holding it firmly as if that alone could silence the whispers and deflect the stares. Heads turned, conversations paused, and curious eyes followed us down the hallway. It was as if no one had ever seen a couple walk in together—at least not when the girl had been dating someone else the day before. I could feel the weight of every glance, every smirk.
But none of them knew the truth. Evan had cheated on Presley, and with her best friend, no less. The bra Presley found in his room was proof of that. Knowing him, Reagan wasn’t the only one, either. He had the entire county as his playground, with parties and people he thought he could fool.
Presley moved closer to me, as if my presence could shield her from the judging eyes around us. I could feel her unease in the way her hand tensed in mine. A few of my friends nodded in approval, though. At least someone seemed to get it.
“Do you want to go to your locker first?” I asked softly, hoping to distract her.
She shrugged, her gaze dropping. “I guess.”
I leaned down, my lips brushing her ear as I whispered, “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”
“I’m not worried,” she whispered back, but her voice gave her away—unsteady, almost a murmur. I nodded, not pressing her further, and walked with her to her locker, waiting as she gathered her books. Further down the hall, I heard Evan’s voice, loud and obnoxious, and felt her stiffen beside me. She shut her locker quickly and leaned into me for reassurance.
At my locker, she leaned against the one next to mine, her arms folded protectively. I tossed my backpack inside, then tore a scrap of paper from my notebook and scribbled something down, slipping it into my pocket. This game wasn’t over—not by a long shot. Now that she was mine, the stakes had only gotten higher.
I took her hand again, gave it a reassuring squeeze, and shut my locker with a bang. “Let’s get you to homeroom.”
Presley glanced at me, a hint of worry in her eyes. “You’re not staying with me?”
I shook my head, smiling. “I’ll see you at lunch. That’s when things get interesting.”
She narrowed her eyes, half-curious, half-nervous. “What are you planning, Hudson?”
“You’ll see,” I said, leaning in just enough so only she could hear. “By lunch, I promise, you won’t have a single doubt about us.”
She gave me a small, uncertain smile, but I could see the question in her gaze. I didn’t answer it. Not yet.
Presley’s brows knitted together as she studied the torn corner of notebook paper I’d slipped her this morning. “What’s this?” she asked.
The paper had a single line: Truth or dare?
She exhaled, her voice barely audible. “I thought… I thought the game was over.”
Her hand trembled slightly in mine, and I traced gentle circles over her skin with my thumb, feeling her tension. She hadn’t touched her lunch, her gaze drifting every so often toward Evan, holding court with his posse in the corner. I wondered if she regretted breaking up with him. Maybe I was just a complication she hadn’t anticipated.
“It’s not over,” I whispered back, leaning closer.
We were sitting alone, tucked away at one of the far tables on the opposite side of the cafeteria from Evan’s loyal band of followers. I tilted my head, bringing my lips close to her ear. “It’s time to raise the stakes.”
She chewed on her bottom lip, a flicker of curiosity—and hesitation—in her eyes. “How?”
“Truth or dare, baby?” I murmured.
Presley thought for a beat, then straightened, her voice bold. “Dare.”
I kept my lips close, my voice just a breath. “I dare you to meet me in the art studio. I want to be with you there, right now.”
Her eyes widened, and she let out a quiet gasp. “You mean… here? In school?”
I smirked, feeling my pulse quicken at the thought. “Do you want to?”
She fidgeted in her seat, cheeks flushing as she avoided my gaze, but I could feel her considering it. The idea had been on my mind since first period, the image of her sprawled out on one of those paint-splattered tables, waiting for me, tempting me. I could practically feel her beneath my hands.
“I can be quick,” I said, giving her a sly grin. “Besides, you took the dare.”
Her gaze lifted to meet mine, a spark of defiance there. “What if I don’t want you to be quick?”
I groaned softly, the tension sparking between us. “Then we wait until after school,” I whispered, “and I get to take my time with you. No interruptions. My mom’s out, and Alex is on a business trip in California.”
A slow smile spread across her lips, and she leaned in, her whisper barely audible. “Then we wait.”
Unable to resist, I brushed my lips over her ear, inhaling the sweet floral scent of her shampoo. I felt an ache rise within me, the urge to pull her close right here, consequences be damned. Beneath the table, I guided her hand to my thigh, letting her feel the effect she had on me. She stroked me through my jeans, hidden from sight by my coat, her touch light but enough to make me stifle a groan.
“What about cheerleading practice?” I murmured, forcing myself to focus.
She rolled her eyes, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I’m quitting. It’s not me anymore. Besides, I won’t be cheering in college. Why bother?”
I chuckled, easing her hand away before I lost control. “I never thought you’d give it up.”
She didn’t answer, her gaze shifting to Evan, who was laughing with his friends, his arm draped around Neil’s shoulders. As Neil fawned over him, Evan shot me a look—a challenging glare. I knew that look too well. He wasn’t going to let Presley go without a fight. To him, she was a trophy, the school’s it girl, someone he believed he owned.
“Hudson, are you even listening?” Presley’s voice brought me back.
I turned to her. “Sorry, what did you say?”
She sighed. “I should have passed head cheerleader to Reagan ages ago. She’s always wanted it, and… it’s just not who I am.”
I took her hand, pressing it against my chest. “Presley, you don’t need any of that to be who you are.”
Her gaze softened. “I think I just needed to stop caring about what everyone thinks.”
I cupped her chin, tilting her face up to mine as I brushed my lips over hers. “Evan can’t give you anything you don’t already have. He never could.”
She hesitated, then whispered, “Let’s get out of here. Early.”
I grinned, heart pounding. “Let’s go.”
Presley cried out, arching into my mouth as I grazed her clit with my teeth, the sound breaking the silence of the room. She was splayed out on my bed, completely bare, her legs open and body glistening. I couldn’t get enough of her.
“Come for me, Pres,” I whispered, my voice husky against her heated skin.
Her body tensed, and I felt her pulse beneath my tongue as I circled it over her again. She clenched the sheets, her breaths growing shallow. Sliding a finger inside her, I found that hidden spot and pressed, sending her over the edge. Presley cried out, her whole body shuddering, giving herself fully to the wave of release.
“Oh God, that felt so freaking good,” she whispered, eyes half-closed and cheeks flushed.
I wiped my mouth and shifted beside her, grinning as she tugged at my shirt.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she murmured, impatience flashing in her eyes.
I chuckled, brushing my lips over her nose. “You’re so desperate. But remember, you asked for a dare—and you didn’t do it.”
Her mouth dropped open in disbelief. “Are you kidding? There was no way I could?—”
I smirked, leaning close. “I didn’t want to just fuck you in the art studio, Presley. I wanted to spread you out on that table, taste you until you screamed my name.”
She drew in a sharp breath. “Hudson!”
“Five years, Pres. I’ve waited five years to have you, to love you, to make you mine in every way possible.”
Her green eyes darkened, a glimmer of something more than desire there. “You’re wrong about one thing.”
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what’s that?”
She leaned closer, her voice a soft murmur. “The love part. It never went away. You’ve always loved me—just like I’ve loved you.”
For a moment, her words left me speechless. I finally replied, my voice almost a whisper, “I have spread my dreams under your feet; tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”
Presley brushed her fingers over my face, her gaze searching. “What does that mean?”
“It’s from a poem by Yeats,” I said, barely able to look away from her. “About loving someone so much it hurts.”
She laid her head on my shoulder, her voice gentle. “Your love isn’t unrequited, Hudson.”
I paused, feeling the weight of her words settle over me. “But it was,” I whispered.
“Not anymore,” she replied, her voice firm.
She didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, her hands slipped to the waistband of my jeans, unzipping them with a slow, teasing touch. I barely managed a groan as she slid her hand inside, wrapping her fingers around me. Her tongue flicked over my skin, tasting me, and I shuddered, overwhelmed by the heat pooling low in my belly.
“Pres,” I breathed, barely able to contain myself.
“Shh,” she whispered, a wicked gleam in her eye. “Let me do this.”
I closed my eyes, letting myself drown in the feel of her warm mouth on me. She took me slowly, tracing her tongue over every inch, her hand gripping my base and applying just enough pressure. I tangled my fingers in her hair, holding it back so I could watch her.
She didn’t stop, even as I whispered, “Presley, stop.” My voice was shaky, my breath coming faster. “I’m close.”
She only looked up at me, defiance in her gaze. I held on as long as I could, but it was no use—I lost myself, shuddering as I spilled into her, my body tense and completely undone.
As the world slowly came back into focus, she lifted her head, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “You taste good.”
I let out a rough laugh. “Damn, you’ve got me drained.”
A playful pout crossed her face. “Does that mean you can’t…?”
“Oh, I’ll recover,” I promised, pulling her down beside me. I worked open the buttons of my shirt, and she straddled me, resting her head on my chest, her fingers trailing up and down my skin.
“I love you, Hudson,” she whispered, her voice quiet but sure.
I ran my fingers along her spine, feeling her shiver against me. “Does it feel strange to say that?”
She tilted her face up, her green eyes meeting mine with a softness I’d never seen before. “No. I’ve loved you since before I even realized it, and then you were gone.”
I gently cupped her face, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I never wanted to leave, Pres. I would have stayed if I could.”
She snuggled closer, her breath warm against my neck as I held her close, feeling a fierce protectiveness rise in me. She was here, and that was all that mattered.
I woke to the soft glow of the clock, the numbers reading close to 6 p.m., and somewhere in the quiet room, Presley’s phone buzzed insistently. She was still nestled against me, her body warm beneath the covers.
“Pres, your phone,” I murmured, giving her a gentle nudge.
She mumbled incoherently. “What?”
“Your phone,” I repeated.
Suddenly, her eyes shot open, and she bolted upright, clutching the blanket to her chest. “Oh crap! What time is it?”
“Almost six,” I replied, watching her eyes widen.
“Shit, I’m so late! I was supposed to be at the club for dinner—6 p.m. reservation. I’m dead.” She scrambled out of bed, tugging on her clothes in a frenzy.
I laughed as she stuffed her feet into her navy Chucks, not even bothering with socks.
“This isn’t funny!” she huffed, her tone sharp.
“If they left without you, just come back over,” I teased, still lying back comfortably.
She paused, chewing on her lip as she ran her fingers through her hair in a desperate attempt to tame it. “I’ll probably be grounded. What the hell do I say?”
I shrugged. “Not sure I’ve got any advice for you on this one.”
With a frustrated sigh, she snatched up her purse and leaned down, giving me a quick kiss on the lips. “I’ll text you,” she promised, before rushing out the door, leaving the room feeling a little too empty without her.