Chapter 37
LEAH
Hudson drops back slightly but doesn’t move away from me as the space between his eyebrows pinches. “How did I hurt you? Was it because I’d sometimes tease you? If so, that’s how immature boys who don’t know what’s going on with their hormones act and I apologize—”
I hold up my hand. “So did you have a crush on me?”
“No. Not even a little bit.” His roguish smile suggests he’s struggling to focus on hockey stats and plays right now, so this important conversation doesn’t go off the rails.
“Remember the morning when you came out in a towel?” It’s my turn to practically drool, remembering him in a towel.
“And you were skulking around outside my new house?”
“I wasn’t skulking. I was like a ninja in an action movie.”
He laughs.
I don’t because the truth is reaching the surface like a shark fin piercing the water. “I said, ‘Were you expecting a troll?’”
Hudson smirks. “Instead, I got a cat burglar and my future wife.”
I want to ignore how that makes me feel, but we need to talk about this if marriage is going to work under a shared roof, never mind the two of us surviving in a small town.
“One day, early on in high school, Hunter went to chill with someone from his band, but he said I could stick around and play video games. I was hoping he’d change his mind and come back to hang out with me or when he got back and found me still there, he’d decide …
” My cheeks flush because it’s painful to admit how pathetic I was over Hunter.
Hudson listens intently, expression blank as if he has no idea where I’m going with this.
“You must’ve known he was gone but not realized I was there. I overheard you talking to a couple of your friends. You said, ‘The Tall Troll.’”
His mouth crimps with laughter.
What was once acute pain, which turned into chronic anger, flares. “That was your code name for me.”
He’s clutching his stomach as if holding back hysterics. “No, Leah. It wasn’t.”
Arms crossed, I turn away. “Right. Like I believe you.”
“Tall Troll was Mr. Lynch. Your nickname was—never mind.” He picks up the yearbook, probably because he doesn’t want me to see the words Tall Troll or worse under my photo.
“So you admit that I had a nickname.”
“Yeah. We got bold when you surpassed Chuck in height. Up until that point, we worried he’d beat us up.”
“He’s my baby brother. You’re massive.”
“The guy is fierce like his sister.”
Cocking my hip, I say, “What was my nickname?”
I glimpse a flash of recognition before he schools his features. “Uh. I forget.”
“You do not.”
“I won’t say it.”
“Fine. I hope you lose another tooth.”
“Don’t be mean.”
“You were the mean one. The cruel brother.”
“Leah, that’s not true. I was trying to protect you.”
“By making me the butt of a bet, turning me into a joke?”
His face falls as if this time he knows exactly what I’m talking about. “You knew about that?”
My chin quivers and I tell myself not to cry.
Hudson crosses the room and reaches out his arms.
“Don’t touch me.”
“It’s not what it sounded like.”
“You were just jealous and didn’t want Hunter and me to be together.”
“No, I didn’t want him to break your heart. It was obvious you liked him.”
The humiliation digs deeper.
“And what? You wanted me to be miserable so you bet him to cheat on me, who everyone thought was his girlfriend?”
Hudson’s breath is choppy. “Leah, this is hard for me to tell you, but if you didn’t already know, when my brother was hanging out with you and then supposedly had to go to band practice, he was hooking up with other girls.”
My anger and resolve snap. To think I came so close to saying I do to this guy. “Right. Uh-huh. Just keep the lies coming. Glad we’re doing this now.”
He says simply, “You’d think if Swiss Vinegar practiced so much, they’d have at least one decent song.”
I can’t argue with that.
“He obviously broke your heart despite my attempted intervention.”
Looking away, because I don’t exactly want to admit this to Hudson of all people, I mutter, “I got replacement parts.”
Hudson steps toward me and then taps his finger under my chin, making me meet his gaze. “Was he a good kisser?”
My lips part and my breath stalls as I lose my internal anchor and lean forward ever so slightly.
“I’m not kissing you.”
“Was Hunter a good kisser?” Hudson repeats.
My cheeks are on fire, so I may as well go up in flames. “He and I never kissed.”
“Some boyfriend.”
Glancing at the floor, I mutter, “It was more of a fantasy I’d created in my mind.”
“He never denied you were a couple when people said that, yet he was with other girls. That’s what I was trying to stop.”
Knowing what I do now about Hunter and having an adult perspective, that makes sense, however, the chatter in my mind and the pain in my chest don’t let up.
“I don’t want to have to tell you this. It hurts. But I drove Hunter away because I could tell you were captivated by him. Meanwhile, he was sneaking around behind your back.”
If what he’s saying is true, and all my hatred of Hudson about the bet was because he was trying to protect me, that means Hunter was the jerk … and so was I.
“Prove it.”
Hudson flips open the yearbook and swipes through the pages until he finds what he’s looking for.
It’s a picture of school clubs, including Hunter’s band.
In bubbly letters, someone wrote, Hunter, I’m going to miss meeting you in the band room, the custodian’s closet, and cutting class, but I’ll never forget your lips on mine. XoXoX Livvy
I read and reread it.
Hudson taps the page. “She must’ve gotten our yearbooks mixed up.”
I clear my throat, hoping he doesn’t point out the note on the back page. At least not right now.
Putting the pieces together, Hunter must’ve been fooling around with at least one other girl because, during junior year, they were kicked out of the band practice room for smoking, meaning this was going on even before that because I remember Hunter and Livvy getting loads of detentions for skipping class senior year.
Meanwhile, I was Hunter’s wannabe girlfriend.
Hudson flips to a nearby page where he finds the debate team. Next to my photo, someone wrote in silver pen, Dream Girl.
He points. “That was your nickname. Dream Girl. Not Tall Troll.”
“I was so tall.”
“The guys had dreams about your legs, Leah. They all hoped to grow a few inches before graduation so they stood a chance.”
I hang my head and murmur, “All of this was part of the reason I stopped skating. I couldn’t bear sharing the ice with you on the hockey team, believing you’d been so cruel to bet your brother not to hook up with me.”
“Was there another reason you stopped skating?”
“Hunter said I was too tall. That I’d never get a partner for doubles.”
“He doesn’t know a thing about—” Hudson gazes up at the ceiling, his hand clenching and unclenching. “Leah, I’d quit my hockey career today and skate partners with you if you wanted me to.”
I laugh because he’s joking, but it’s sweet.
Did I truly have the wrong brother all along? I can’t admit that I have the goofy yet charming, ruggedly athletic, and attractive brother because the letter in the back of the yearbook and the emails could ruin everything.
“Hunter really never kissed you?”
“No need to rub it in, Hudson.”
He cups the side of my face. “I’d like to find out what he was missing.”
“Even if we kissed, you know, beyond the wedding day peck, it wouldn’t mean anything,” I say, resisting as the yearbook seems to flash like a siren on the table.
“Is that so?” His tone is cool, his angular jaw set.
My surroundings dissolve and I start to melt one shaky inhale at a time.
He looks up at me through his thick lashes as if accepting a challenge.
I whisper, “I’m immune to you.”
His fingers graze my arm, sending a thrill of excitement skittering along my skin.
“I find that hard to believe.”
“You would since you’re so full of yourself.” However, there’s no fight in my words. Just longing.
He lets out a deep, rich laugh and his eyes rake over me as the space between us grows incrementally smaller until we’re a heartbeat apart.
My breath turns shallow and my lips involuntarily part.
He presses his mouth to mine and lingers there.
When I don’t respond, he draws back, wearing a half grin. Undaunted, his lips move to the place beneath my ear.
Pulse catching, I repeat, “Just so you know, this doesn’t mean anything.”
“What if it did? What if you like it?” Between each word, he kisses my neck, my chin, and then hovers in front of my mouth again.
“What if I like kissing you? I hope you lose all your teeth,” I say but cannot keep the sweetness out of my voice, like a cat when presented with milk.
“In that case, are you prepared to spoon-feed me oatmeal or mushy peas when we’re old?”
The baseline I’d set was to be annoyed at Hudson, but it’s really desire and I kiss him just so he’ll stop taunting me … and because I so desperately want to.
My family has zero boundaries, and it turns out we don’t either because when his lips land on mine again, a decade’s worth of fireworks explodes between us.
Much like when we danced at HoCo, we easily find our shared rhythm of the kiss with its give and take.
Hudson’s fingers tangle in my hair. His is thick and surprisingly soft. Feeling free to explore, my hands slide down his neck and across the firm plane of his back.
I’m unable to suppress my smile.
He pauses and returns the favor. Instead of a half grin, I get a full-blown smolder. Given how heavy his eyes are, it’s safe to say he’s not distracting himself with hockey stats right now.
My voice is smoky when I say, “Remember when you asked what I would do if you kissed me?”
He nods slowly.
“I figured it out. I’d kiss you back.”
His lips quirk. “It’s about time.”
Gaze flickering, I lift my chin. My stomach and skin and everything in between and from top to bottom flares with warmth.
Hudson leans back in. His breath is cool against my skin and when the kiss resumes, his stubble is like fine sandpaper. His palms smooth their way along my sides before he wraps his arms around me, tugging me closer.
The kiss resumes, sliding between intense and tranquil like we’re both assured we’ll do it again.
The enormity of him in height and girth sends me slightly off balance because I can lean into him and not be self-conscious about how tall I am.
We melt together.
Snug against him, I forget about my insecurities about my size. About the past and future.
I was wrong about Hudson. I was wrong about a lot of things.
This kiss definitely means something.