27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Trey
I fly out to Maine for a hockey fundraiser next week.
I told Hudson he didn’t have to fly down here, to Miami, during my whopping three days off, purely because I needed to check on the condo and my mom, but he insisted he had the time and had to take it anyway so he might as well use it.
And maybe I missed him too much to tell him no.
Maybe that’s selfish, but I don’t care. I’ve never regretted my job before, but the more time I spend away from Hudson, the more I want to eat up every second I’m with him. And when he’s not here… I think about the next time I will, counting down the days.
Alex is supposed to make an appearance at the fundraiser next week, too, now that he’s officially retiring from playing, and I’m pretty sure he’s actually going to the big Vegas hockey expo too, right before Austen’s wedding, which Mandy and I are both scheduled to work.
Which, if I’m being honest, is actually kind of nice.
I love hanging out with Mandy, of course, but it’ll be nice to see just Alex.
I know he can be irritating and annoying as fuck, and he drives everyone crazy sometimes, but I’ve always liked Alex and his ability to not give a shit about what anyone thinks.
He just does what he wants, says what he wants.
And he’s a blast to go out with. Though I’m excited to meet up with him, but, I’m also a little nervous.
I mean, if there was ever a guy to talk to about…
you know, being attracted to guys, Alex would be it.
He’s never shied away from the fact he’s bi or kept his crush on Mack a secret.
And I guess that worked out in his favor one way or the other, so I know he wouldn’t judge me if I told him about me and Hudson.
If anything, he’d probably press me for details because he’s worse than a girl when it comes to fucking gossip, but every time I even think about telling him that Hudson is my boyfriend , my chest gets tight and my throat constricts, and I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack.
And it’s not just him, or the guys. I get the same feeling when I think about telling my mom about Hudson.
Especially because she keeps telling me about her friends’ nieces and daughters, or the girl she ran into at the bank…
I’ve dodged her effectively, but each time, it gets harder.
I want to tell her the truth, I just… don’t know what to say, I guess.
That I’m bisexual? Can I be bisexual if I’ve only ever been attracted to one guy? Does that even count? I guess I could ask Alex, but knowing him, he will make a big deal about it, and that’s exactly what I don’t want.
I mean, why does everything need a label? Why do I have to have every question answered? Can’t I just be with Hudson because I want to? Isn’t that enough?
I don’t know. All I know is the more I think about it, the more it stresses me out, so I try not to think about it.
Things have been good with Hudson. Like, really good.
We talk constantly. I text him every morning when I wake up, and he texts me every night before he goes to bed.
I count down the days until I’m home, until I can see him, touch him, kiss him.
I think about him all the time when he’s not here. About things I probably shouldn’t…
Like quitting my damn job so I can spend more time with him.
About fucking him and telling him how much I love him…
I miss him so fucking much and every day that goes by it’s more noticeable. It’s like a void I can’t fill; a festering ache that won’t let up until I get my damn hands on him.
I scan the crowd filing out from the ramp, looking for him. He’s not hard to spot—not with his Wolves T-shirt and his big, wide eyes and tense shoulders.
“Huds!” I call out, and he looks my way immediately, that wide-eyed look turning to something brighter.
Hudson’s lips turn up into a genuine grin that could melt ice, and I sprint over to him and hug him.
He wraps his arms around me so tight, I think I might stop breathing if he doesn’t let up.
His body tenses as he sucks in a breath, noting a couple folks walking around us giving us weird looks.
I hold him a little tighter, too. It shouldn’t bother me, but it does.
Not because I’m ashamed or embarrassed, but because how much of an asshole do you have to be to be offended by people you don’t even know?
“You okay?” I ask.
He nods. “Yeah. I’ll be better when we get away from all these people,” he says, a shiver running through him. “It’s really fucking loud.”
I nod as Hudson looks up at me and lets out a heavy breath as I move for his suitcase with one hand and grab his hand with the other.
His palm is sweaty, and he holds my hand tight, so I give him a squeeze and lead him through the busy airport as fast as I can.
I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to.
I want Hudson Daniels all to myself for the next three days.
We manage to get through the crowds relatively quickly, and once we get to my car, Hudson lets go of my hand, his mouth opening wide.
“What?” I ask as I toss his duffel in the backseat. “Something wrong?”
He glances from me to the car and raises an eyebrow.
“No, I just… you usually rent SUVs.”
I grin as I open the passenger door of the Mustang.
“Gotta spend my money on something,” I say with a wink. “It was either this or sneakers, and I’d never be able to hold a candle to Andre’s sneaker collection.”
Hudson grins and gets in. “Uh huh, sure.”
I settle my hand on his thigh as he leans back, the hot breeze rustling his hair.
With the bright golden hour sun, his sharp profile, and long eyelashes standing out against the light, I can’t help but steal as many glances as I can, taking in his defined, pale arms jutting out from his tight blue shirt.
He might be pale now, but he’ll have a gorgeous tan by the time he leaves.
Of course, he catches me staring at him at a red light, giving me a devilish grin, but he doesn’t say anything.
Instead, he carefully reaches over and settles his hand on my thigh, and the light turns green.
I hit the gas and drive off, but nearly brake when I feel his hand slide up my thigh, toward my cock. And then his fingers graze the head of my cock through my athletic shorts and I flash him a wide-eyed gaze of my own.
“Huds…”
“You can tell me to stop,” he says nonchalantly, but I see the glint of mischief in his eyes. “If you can’t handle it.”
“Oh, I can handle it,” I say, a grin splitting my face in challenge.
Hudson’s hand moves to cup my stiffening cock through my shorts, and I press the gas a little harder.
He chuckles, his fingers deftly stroking me and I fight to keep my eyes trained on the road. Heat blooms across my skin, and it’s not just from the sun.
“Are you sure about that?”
His hand starts to build a rhythm as I pull up to another red light and a car pulls up next to us.
I panic, heat flooding my cheeks as I glance at Hudson, worried the driver will somehow look over here, but Hudson doesn’t stop.
He quickens his pace, and I feel my insides twist, my balls starting to get tight.
Oh, fuck.
Why is this so hot?
The light turns green, and I take off like a bat out of hell.
I switch lanes and merge onto the beach road.
I come to a stop to let a group of beachgoers cross the street, and Hudson leans over, his lips finding mine swiftly, his tongue slipping into my mouth.
I kiss him back as someone blares their horn, and my cheeks heat with embarrassment as I drive off, Hudson laughing as I curse.
And then he squeezes my damn cock and just… lets go.
“Fuck…” I hiss as I give Hudson a knowing glare.
He has the audacity to look at me innocently like he doesn’t know what he did.
“Asshole,” I bite. He grins.
When I open the door to my condo on the eighth floor, I don’t miss his surprise.
I watch as he walks around, checking everything out.
I get that it’s different from my house in Minnesota.
Everything is sleek and shiny, all bright blues and whites.
There’s some coral and red and pink accents, per my mother’s suggestion.
Even though it’s spacious and nice, it’s never really felt like home.
It just feels like a cliché place in Miami.
I watch Hudson, unable to take my eyes off of him.
He looks good here. I nod for him to follow me and give him the quick tour. It doesn’t take long, since my condo is mostly an open concept, save for the three bedrooms, bathroom and laundry room.
“And here is the best room in the house,” I say with a grin as I drop his duffel on the ground by my California King bed.
Hudson walks up to the sliding glass door that overlooks my covered balcony. The nice thing about this place is the privacy. We might be high up, but the floor-to-ceiling windows are tinted and my neighbors can’t see shit.
“Wow,” he says, setting one hand against the sliding glass door. “Trey, this is…”
“Too much?” I ask apathetically. It’s not anywhere close to what some of the folks down here have, but even my mother thought it was a lot when I first bought it.
That was before she realized she’d be spending more time here than me, though.
Ask her now, I’m sure she’d say it’s quaint compared to the other places on this strip of beach.
“Can you hear it?” he asks curiously, not turning to look at me.
“Hear what?”
“The ocean,” he says, almost wistfully.
“Sometimes.” I shrug.
I come up behind him, keeping my gaze on him. He looks out the window and I note our reflections in the clear pane. His eyes look almost sad.
“I’ve never seen the ocean before.”
“Ever?” I ask, settling a hand on his back. His body relaxes a fraction.
“Didn’t travel much. Never been near it.”
It’s hard to believe some people have just never seen the ocean…