Chapter 20
LEAH
When I look into Hudson’s eyes. I’m not sure what I see. Longing, lust, intrigue? But I like it even though it scares me. The guy I thought he was collides with the man I’ve been spending time with and the outcome could be messy for me.
I figure the late night that started at the park across from our old duplex and led to the arena would end when we both walked to our cars, but we talk, leaning against the tailgate that Hudson lowers. Seated side by side, our legs dangle off the back and our conversation flows for hours.
Hunter comes up several more times and it’s hard not to study the contrasts between the two of them. I’m afraid to admit that I had Hudson all wrong. He reminds me a bit of his brother, but everything he says is more meaningful and not irreverent like the world owes him something.
But we also talk about ice—a shave ice place in Houston mostly and how he insists I someday try it.
This highlights that I’m a home slice and don’t intend to leave Cobbiton—though I do regularly travel with my brother and Jack for games, so I’m sure I’ll see the Knights against the Rangers sometime.
The conversation drifts to our opinions on pumpkin spice. He says, yay. I say, nay. Whether we think the trapezoid hockey rule is fair, and loops around and around the rink like neither one of us wants to leave.
The one topic we avoid is the arranged marriage. I’m afraid I know why and ultimately have to scratch the itch.
“So when you left Houston, did you leave behind someone special?”
“You mean like my team?”
I level him with a lowered brow look. “No, dummy. I mean like a girl.” A woman with a perky smile, big brown eyes, perfectly styled hair, and a petite figure.
He rubs his hand on the prickly swath of stubble lining his jaw. “Are you asking me about my relationship history? If so, no comment.”
“So your life with the ladies is non grata?”
“I just mean there’s not much to say.”
“Social media would argue with you on that.” I’m not sure why I brought this up and am now pressing, but I can’t ignore how it felt when he wrapped his arms around my waist when we were on the Zamboni or the moment that slid between us like silk after I gave him an enthusiastic hug.
I want to think there was something there, but perhaps he was shocked by my exuberance which was rarely on display back in the day.
“I’ve just noticed that you’ve been seen with some women.”
We’re not parked under a dim street light, but I can see well enough to be confused by his mysterious Mona Lisa—er, Monty Lisa—expression.
I add, “You dated a lot of petite girls.”
“I wouldn’t say a lot.”
“More than a few.”
“Some.”
“And pretty ones.”
“Petite and pretty, yes.”
“So nothing like me.”
I only know I say this last part out loud because whatever I read on his features moments ago changes into dark-eyed desire. Is he thinking about someone special now?
Nervous, I deflect. “Not that I’m paying attention. Don’t mean to pry.”
His voice rumbles when he says, “What if I want you to?”
My shoulders bunch up by my ears. “You want me to ask you about your love life?” Welp. This just confirms that he’s arrogant and thinks oh so highly of himself.
“There was no love, Leah,” he says in a hard tone, but his eyes on me soften, get heavy. I expect him to yawn. It’s late.
“Okay, fine. Lust, flings, affection, whatever you want to call it.” I wave my hand dismissively, wishing I hadn’t brought it up.
“There wasn’t anyone with striking blue eyes.”
“So you prefer brown-eyed girls?” Figures.
“Or ones whose hair smells like summer berries.”
I’m reminded of the conditioner Mami always got for Dani, Valentina, and me.
I picked up a bottle recently because I miss home.
Unfortunately, I have to keep it under lock and key because my roommate Karter, who lives in the dining room, has a habit of using everyone’s stuff and then putting it in a box labeled Lost and Found.
“Do you prefer vanilla scents? Florals?” I ask for no good reason.
Not answering my question but finishing his thought, Hudson says, “Or ones with a smile that could murder a man if he’s not careful.”
“Yikes. Sounds aggressive. Be careful out there. The dating world can be brutal, not that I really know,” I mumble the last part.
“Or that’s full of surprises,” he adds.
“A lot of people are surprise-phobic. Noted. I won’t show up at your house unannounced …” Again. “Not that I did or would. Never mind. I’ll stop talking now.”
“Please don’t. It’s adorable.” His smile crinkles his eyes.
I squawk a laugh. “I’ve been called many things. But not adorable.”
“Then you haven’t been hanging around with the right people.”
“Hunter once said I reminded him of a giant, mutant iguana or was it a chameleon? Maybe it’s better that I can’t remember.”
“My point stands.”
“Okay, fine. I admit it. I’ve internet-stalked you a little. Mostly, I’ve just wondered what happened with Hunter.” And wanted to direct my animosity somewhere. Maybe entertain a pity party every once in a while with a sharply worded email.
“And none of them have legs like yours,” he says as if he didn’t hear a word I said.
In fact, I’m not sure I heard correctly. Perhaps I’m the tired one.
“Come again?” I ask.
His gaze travels up my body from my feet, several inches from the ground and crossed at the ankles, to my eyes, igniting every inch of my skin along the way until my cheeks blister with heat.
I swallow thickly.
“You have amazing legs, Leah.”
“Yeah. I know. That’s what makes me so tall.”
“All the better.”
I don’t understand what I’m hearing and feel myself alternately scrunching up, wanting to hide, and coming at him with sharpened claws. Is he insulting me or something else?
Instead, I do my best to deflect or return to neutral, if not contested, ground. “You and your brother are so different. Hunter was wild, free, and fun. You’re—”
“You never gave me a chance, Leah.”
What happened in high school rises from the ashes of my teenage heart. “Maybe I had my reasons.”
“If that’s the case, they were lousy. But you’re right about Hunter. He was like a wolf and I was like a—”
“Domesticated dog. A golden retriever.”
His laughter echoes through the night. “Fair enough.”
But this is another side of Hudson. He isn’t wolfish right now, but I see the alpha in him. The guy who commands the goalpost, who looks at me like he knows what he wants and it’s not a petite girl with brown eyes.
I’m afraid of what that means.
He says, “You look like you’re fixing to slap someone.”
“Just when I’m around you.”
“Leah, I remember the girl next door. She was fierce, playing street hockey, but a sweet ray of sunshine who brought everyone popsicles. You were one of the guys. Then you turned brooding. Guarded. When I saw you with your family at the anniversary party, I got glimpses of who you were. What happened? Who hurt you?”
My lip trembles. “Hunter—”
But he doesn’t let me finish. He’s on his feet, his eyes hard and fists ready to fight. “That’s it. I’m tracking him down.”
“You didn’t let me finish, but I don’t want to talk about it.”
“If he did something—”
I shake my head because the truth is, I’m protecting myself from Hunter’s twin.
We’re both quiet for a long measure until Hudson says, “I can’t apologize on his behalf, but if you want to talk to me, I promise I’ll listen. Though I might punch an inanimate object. Maybe kick a rose bush.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “And get pricked by the thorns?”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
A long sigh escapes from behind the gate of my lips. “At times, it was like I was Hunter’s babysitter, protecting him from himself. At others, I had to fight for his attention.”
“You liked him.”
I turn to Hudson and meet his eyes. “I thought I loved him.” This time, I cut myself off because the truth surfaces and it’s hard to shoulder. “I had no idea what love was.” But I’m starting to understand.
Hudson’s gaze sweeps mine and I’m afraid he knows what I’m thinking, so I push back, desperate to keep up my boundaries. “You’re just giving me a hard time because back in the day, you were jealous that Hunter and I were so close.”
He snorts through his nose. “No, Leah. It’s because I saw how much you gave to him and how much he took.”
Just like that, he boldly throws the truth toward me. I wasn’t ready to catch it or block it from slamming into the goal.
Hudson drops to his feet, signaling that story time is over. The horizon line turns gray like someone took a pencil and divided night from day.
He says, “Thanks for helping me strengthen my mental muscle.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“See you on Friday?”
“You really want another lesson?”
“We’re only just getting started, Leah.”
I’m halfway to my car when I realize he’s beside me and pause.
Hudson asks, “Are you heading back to Omaha?”
I thumb in the general direction of my parents’ house on Stowells Street. “I have work later, so I’ll probably just go to my mom and dad’s.”
“Do you live on Graves Street?”
I nod. “Who’s the stalker now?”
“It was a hunch. But why there?”
“Because I wanted my own place.”
“But you love it here. Want to trade?” he speaks with zero humor.
I lean in slightly. “You’d hardly fit in my closet-sized bedroom and my roommate Mirin would maul you even though she’s supposedly with my other roommate, Branch, who I think is actually her cousin.”
“Perhaps I want to spice things up.”
“Well, when I moved in, Karter did add drops of hot sauce to the face moisturizer I left in the bathroom.”
“Why would someone do something like that?”
I shrug, having long given up on trying to figure out the oddball residents in my apartment. “He said it reminded him of whipped cream.”
“Why would someone add hot sauce to whipped cream?”
“So many questions.”
“Namely, why do you live in that dump?” Hudson asks.
“Because I’ve always lived with my family.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
I hold up my hand. “The press room is closed for questioning.”
Sadness drifts across Hudson’s features like clouds over the rising sun.
“I could move home,” I say in a small voice.
“Or you could marry me. Live at my house.”
I gasp as I gain sudden clarity. “That’s why they’re trying to arrange our marriage?”
“I can’t argue with them.”
“Why are you so concerned about my safety?” I ask.
“Because I always have been.”
I see the ferocious goalie behind the glass, an untamed, unfiltered flash in Hudson’s eyes. Something between us abruptly shifts or perhaps it’s been a slow slide of change all night.
If I weren’t crossed up from what I thought I knew about the Roboveitchek brothers, I’d melt into a delirious puddle of laughter, right here on the ground.
I’m vaguely aware of a car pulling into the parking lot and two doors opening. But Hudson’s gaze is fixed on me, unrelenting.
The rising sun glints in my eyes as Cara appears along with Pierre.
Confusion written on her features, she asks, “Good morning?”
“What do we have here?” her husband asks.
“I’d better go.”
Hudson thumbs over his shoulder. “Yeah, I should head back inside.”
We start to walk our separate ways when footfalls approach.
“Why did you stop skating?” Hudson asks as if afraid this is his last chance to get answers.
There are two possible responses, neither of which I want to give. Instead, I say, “The dog farted.”
“Huh?”
“That’s me saying this conversation is over.”
Recalling Tinker at the anniversary party, his laughter follows me into my early morning dreams while I sleep in one of the bunks in my parents’ basement before going to my shift at the Fish Bowl, and into the next day when I hear it echoing in the bingo hall.