Chapter 29
CHAPTER 29
Hudson
I pulled the collar of my leather jacket up around my neck. The first week of November was coming in like a frigid bitch. It felt more like winter rather than late fall. I was happy to be finished with classes and ready to sleep in this weekend.
I hadn’t seen Presley in days. Neil had mentioned she was sick, but she hadn’t answered my texts or calls, leaving me in the dark.
“Hudson!” My mom’s voice carried from somewhere inside as I stepped into the house.
“Yeah, Mom?” I called back, tossing my keys onto the counter.
“We have dinner tonight,” she replied.
Curious, I followed her voice to the kitchen and stopped in my tracks. She was on her knees with her head halfway inside the oven.
“Don’t do it, Mom,” I said, smirking as I leaned against the doorframe.
She pulled back with a roll of her eyes, yellow rubber gloves on her hands and a grimy pink sponge clutched in one. “Very funny. Just wiping out the oven.”
Grinning, I walked to the table and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl. “You mentioned dinner?”
“Yes, at the Rossis’,” she said, giving the oven door a final wipe before standing.
“What’s going on with you and Presley?” she asked casually, her focus on tossing the sponge into the trash.
My chest tightened at the mention of her name. I shrugged, even though Mom wasn’t looking. “We fizzled out. Do I have to go?”
She closed the oven door with a soft thud and peeled off her gloves. “Mr. Rossi is your stepfather’s boss. He invited us as a family.”
I clenched my jaw, fighting back the urge to groan. Presley’s silence all week, had been eating at me. I’d almost sent her flowers but decided against it. I didn’t want to come off as desperate, even though I was. Hell, I missed everything about her—her laugh, her perfume, the way her presence lingered in my room long after she’d left. The scent had faded from my sheets, and I’d reluctantly washed them a few days ago, like erasing the last bit of her.
“But she was sick,” I muttered, hoping for an out.
“She’s fine now. Bronchitis,” Mom said, setting the gloves on the counter. “This dinner was planned weeks ago. It won’t be so bad.”
I bit into the apple, trying to distract myself from the growing knot in my stomach. Spending an evening across from Presley while she froze me out sounded like pure hell. I didn’t think I could take it.
Mom poured herself a cup of tea, her voice cutting through my spiraling thoughts. “Change into something nicer before we leave. Your jeans are a disaster.”
I glanced down at my ripped knees and fraying threads. “I like these,” I said, feigning innocence.
“They’re not appropriate for dinner at someone’s home,” she shot back, arching a brow. “Wear the black ones I bought you.”
The black jeans. Right. When I’d moved back here, Mom had gone on a shopping spree to update my wardrobe. Most of the new stuff still hung untouched in my closet. I preferred my old, worn-in clothes—the ones that felt like home.
“Fine,” I said, taking another bite of the apple.
“When are we leaving?” I asked between chews, though the question felt pointless. I already knew there was no getting out of this.
“In an hour,” she said, taking a sip of tea.
I tossed the apple core into the trash, my appetite gone. The thought of seeing Presley again—of being in the same room while she looked right through me—made my chest tighten. I rarely got nervous, but tonight, I felt like I was heading into a fight I couldn’t win.
Neil clapped a hand on my shoulder as he took my leather jacket. His grin was casual, but I could feel his curious eyes on me.
“She’s upstairs,” he said, like it wasn’t the only reason I was here.
“Yeah?” I tried to play it cool, shoving my hands into my pockets. “She doing okay?”
“Bronchitis knocked her out for a bit, but she’s better now. Want to hang out in my room?”
I nodded, my stomach tightening. Presley hadn’t answered my texts or calls in two weeks, and now that I was here, I wasn’t sure what the hell I’d say.
Neil tugged at my sleeve, leading me upstairs. I trailed behind, trying not to glance at the closed door I knew was hers. Movement inside caught my attention. My steps faltered, but Neil was already pulling me into his room.
He launched into a rant about a racing game, flopping into his chair and booting up the computer. His fingers moved over the keyboard, completely absorbed, while I sat stiffly on the edge of his bed. Comics were scattered across the floor, and I flipped through one aimlessly.
My mind wasn’t on superheroes. It was on the girl in the next room.
Neil didn’t notice when I stood, easing his door closed behind me. The hallway felt impossibly silent as I stared at Presley’s door. My pulse drummed in my ears as I turned the knob and stepped inside without knocking.
She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, her head in her hands, a green notebook lying open beside her. Her head snapped up, and her eyes—stormy and unreadable—locked onto mine.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed, scrambling to close the notebook.
“No fucking way,” I said, my voice low but firm. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks. We’re done playing this game.”
Her hand clenched around the notebook as she swallowed hard. “Hudson, just leave.”
I stepped closer, my heart pounding. “What’s in there? Is that it? Did you find it?” My voice held a flicker of hope.
“No. It’s not what you think,” she stammered.
I frowned, closing the distance between us in two strides. Before she could stop me, I grabbed the notebook from her hands.
“Hudson, don’t!” She lunged for it, but I turned my back, holding it out of her reach.
“Why are you freaking out?” I growled, flipping it open.
“Give it back!” Her voice cracked with panic as she clawed at my arm.
The first page caught my attention. It wasn’t about Evan or his friends. It wasn’t even Presley’s handwriting.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, holding it higher as she tried to grab it.
“It’s Mrs. Braddock’s,” she blurted. Her face flushed as she stopped struggling.
I froze. “What?”
“She’s been having an affair. It’s all in there.” Presley slumped back onto the bed, defeated.
I lowered the notebook, my brows knitting together. “So what? Her dirty laundry doesn’t explain why you’ve been avoiding me.”
She exhaled sharply, pulling the notebook from my hands and tossing it onto the bed. “It’s not about you, Hudson. This whole thing—it’s just gross. It’s her business, not ours.”
I could see it in her eyes. There was more she wasn’t saying.
“You’re lying,” I said softly, sitting beside her. “What aren’t you telling me, Presley?”
Her jaw tightened as she stood and began pacing. “You don’t get it. I’ve been trying to make this work, but we’re no good for each other.”
“Bullshit,” I shot back, rising to meet her glare. “You’re scared, and I want the truth. You owe me that.”
She stopped pacing, her shoulders stiffening. “I don’t owe you anything, Hudson. You left. You disappeared, and now you think you can just walk back into my life like nothing happened?”
“Yeah,” I said simply.
Her laugh was bitter, her voice cracking with emotion. “That’s all you’ve got? I loved you, you asshole.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You still love me. Don’t lie to me or yourself.”
There’s something more. My eyes swung to the green notebook. It holds a secret she can’t tell me. I waited for her to answer me, and her jaw moved but nothing came out of her mouth. I couldn’t help myself even with the faint scent of Vicks Vaporub in the air or the balled-up tissues in her garbage can.
I pressed my lips to hers and for a moment, she didn’t respond until I licked the seam of her mouth. Presley opened for me as her hands wove around my back, bringing me closer to her. And then we fumbled with each other’s clothing. I slipped my hands under her sweatshirt, palming her breasts.
She softly moaned in my mouth, taking her hands from my back to work on my belt. We couldn’t stop even with her brother on the other side of the wall and our parents downstairs. Our connection was magnetic. With her sweatpants kicked off her ankles and my dick free, the tip soaked with precum, I lifted her in my arms.
I lowered her onto me, her plush, wet cunt enveloping me. I sighed, railing her against the wall. If we got caught, I couldn’t stop. I found her mouth again, my tongue spearing inside, tangling with her own. She tasted sweet like honey. My arms burned with exertion as she clung to my shoulders.
I tore my mouth from hers and pressed my lips to her ear. “I fucking love you, Presley Rossi. You can’t do this to me again. You just can’t,” I groaned.
“I don’t want to,” she panted.
I fucked her harder, coaxing her orgasm and restraining mine until she came. I bit her neck, marking her with my teeth. Presley was mine. Evan Braddock would never claim her heart because it belonged to me. She clenched around me, and I muffled her moans as she climaxed with my mouth, sucking the sound into my throat.
I followed, emptying everything pent up for the last two weeks inside her until it leaked down her thighs. When we finished, I buried my face in her throat as the room was filled with our heavy breathing. Seconds later, she was sobbing and I carried her to the bed with our union still intact.
“Shhh, Pres, don’t cry.”
I tightened my hold on her and she did the same, not moving even when her mother called us for dinner, her voice carrying up the stairs.
“I love you. I love you so much. I’m ending it with him.”
I wiped the tears from her cheeks. “We should go down,” I croaked, my throat clogged with emotion.
She nodded and I lifted her off me. She handed me some tissues and I wiped my withering dick. We jumped when Neil knocked at the door.
“Mom said to get down to dinner,” he yelled.
“You go,” she said. “I need to wash up and put on some jeans.”
“I’ll wait,” I said as I tucked myself in and closed my pants.
I couldn’t help staring at Presley across from me. I was semi hard thinking about what we did a short while ago. Two weeks was far too long not to be inside her. I dug into my steak, slicing off a piece and sliding it off my fork. Her foot touched my leg, her socked toes wiggling against my knee.
I ground the meat between my teeth as my cock swelled. I’d slept with my share of girls before Presley, but I was always in control - until her. I wanted to ditch dinner and get her on her back again. No one paid attention as conversation swirled around us, our parents discussing the club, work and tennis games.
She cleared her throat, licking a remnant of mashed potatoes from her kiss swollen lips. I continued to eat, concentrating on my food so I didn’t on my erection. Fifteen uncomfortable minutes later and we finished our meal.
“Can we be excused?” Presley asked.
Her father leaned back in his chair. “Put your plates in the dishwasher before you go upstairs.”
Presley smiled and rose from her chair. I made sure my sweater was over my jeans to hide my obvious arousal. Neil joined us then ran upstairs, probably to play his game. As Presley loaded the dishwasher and I wrapped my arm around her waist, rubbing myself on her ass.
“Fuck, Hudson,” she whispered.
“Hurry,” I whispered back.
I knew we were taking a chance but Neil wouldn’t bother us since his music was playing and our parents were engaged in conversation. She flicked the lock on the door.
“I want you naked,” I said.
We undressed ourselves and I embraced her naked body, planting kisses on her shoulders and slender neck. She pressed her breasts against my chest, her peaked nipples poking my flesh.
“I love you, Hudson. I always have. These two weeks have been torture.”
“Why did you stop talking to me?” I asked.
“It was better that way,” she whispered.
I softly kissed her lips. “You can make it up to me by riding me.”
She curled her hand around my erection, gently stroking me. I backed her to the bed, and she released me as I got into position. I tweaked her nipples, and she sucked in a breath, straddling me. And then I was deep inside her plushness, her pink button swollen as I rubbed it with my thumb.
She quietly moaned, clenching around me and seconds later, she threw her head back as she climaxed. I steadied her, grasping her slender hips as she quaked through her orgasm.
“That felt so good. I can’t give what you can.”
I don’t know why I said it, but I did. “Can he?” I asked harshly.
She frowned. “Hudson, I never fucked him.”
I raised my eyebrows feeling like an asshole. She was protecting me, and I sounded ungrateful.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
She folded her body on mine and began to move her hips again, rocking her clit against my base. I pulled the covers over us and tilted her face up to mine so I could capture her mouth.
“I’m gonna… oh God…,” Presley whispered seconds before she came again.
She came around me, pumping her hips and I let go, filling her with my semen. It felt so good to have her in my arms again but what would the consequences be? I had to be prepared.