Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
KATE
Iwake before him, and for a few seconds I don’t move.
I lie there, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, trying to work out where I am without letting my thoughts catch up too quickly.
The room is quiet, with soft morning light slipping through the curtains, everything still in that suspended moment before reality settles properly.
And then it does. My stomach flips so sharply that I press my hand to it so as to steady myself. Oh God, what have I done? I can’t even blame the alcohol because I had one glass of wine. I do not do random hook-ups. I’m a responsible adult.
I turn my head slowly, careful not to disturb him, and there he is.
Asleep on his side, one arm stretched across the space where I must have been closer during the night.
His hair is a mess, but his face looks softer like this, younger somehow.
It hits me suddenly in a way it didn’t last night, not really.
He’s twenty-six. Yes, I googled him.
I close my eyes briefly. What the hell have I done?
It doesn’t feel like regret, and that’s the confusing part.
There’s no sinking dread about him in particular, no sense that I shouldn’t have been there.
If anything, a quiet warmth lingers in my chest, something that feels dangerously close to contentment.
Which is worse, because it means it mattered. And that’s exactly what I didn’t want.
I shift carefully, easing out from under the duvet like a ninja, moving slowly so I don’t wake him. The floor feels cold under my feet, steadying me in a way I need right now. I gather my clothes, dressing quickly, my movements quieter than necessary.
I pause once I’m done, glancing back at him. He hasn’t moved, thankfully.
I take the liberty of committing his features to memory. I consider staying and waiting for him to wake up so we can do it all again. Or face up to my actions as a normal person would. Instead, I grab my bag and slip out, like the coward I am.
By the time I pull up outside Emma’s, my brain has gone from quiet panic to full spiral. Every decision I made last night is being replayed, analysed, and picked apart from every possible angle.
I kissed him first.
I went inside his apartment.
I didn’t hesitate.
I didn’t even try to slow it down. In fact, I pushed for more.
I grip the steering wheel as I lower my head and rest it there, debating every single life choice I’ve ever made. Then I take a deep breath and straighten my posture before forcing myself to get out of the car.
Emma’s front door opens before I even knock. “Well,” she says, taking one look at me. “That face tells me everything.”
I stare at her. “Does it?”
“Oh yes.” She steps aside to let me in, her grin already forming. “You look like someone who made questionable but exciting life choices. Also, you’re in last night’s clothes.”
I drop my bag by the door. “I don’t know what I’ve done.” My hands fly to cover my face and try to hide the shame that’s now bubbling inside.
Emma shuts the door behind me. “You had sex with a very attractive, young hockey player, that’s what you did.”
“Emma, shush! Hudson might hear you, or worse still, Tom.” I bob my head around the open door to the lounge, checking for anyone lurking. Thank God there’s nobody there.
“What?” she says, completely unapologetic. “I’m proud of you, and Tom wouldn’t care. He’d high-five you!”
I press my hands to my face again. “Stop it, I’m serious.”
“So am I.” She walks past me into the kitchen like this is a completely normal Saturday morning conversation. “Do you want coffee or a full debrief first?”
“I need both.”
She laughs, already reaching for mugs. “Sit down and start talking.”
I sit, but I’m restless, my leg bouncing slightly under the table. “I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have done that.” My pulse kicks up, my breathing feels erratic, and I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. Oh, Jesus, I think I’m going to pass out.
“Why?”
“Because it complicates everything.” I manage to choke out the words through my ragged attempts at filling my lungs with air.
Emma sets a mug in front of me. “Or,” she says, sitting opposite me, “it clarifies things. Will you calm down and stop hyperventilating, please?”
“It doesn’t clarify anything,” I argue whilst trying to do the stupid box breathing technique. “It makes it worse.”
“How?”
I gesture vaguely. “Because now it’s not just… flirting. Or a game. Or curiosity. It’s real.”
Emma raises an eyebrow. “And that’s a bad thing?”
“It is when it’s with someone like him.” My eyes are wide as I take in my friend’s expression.
“Someone like him,” she repeats slowly. “You mean younger, attractive, successful, and clearly very into you?”
I continue to glare at her. “That’s not helpful.” I lift the cup to my lips and take a tentative sip, hoping the coffee will help settle my anxiety.
“It’s accurate.”
I drag my hands down my face again. “I left this morning and came straight here.”
Emma pauses. “You mean left, left?”
“Meaning I didn’t wake him up.” I dare to glance at her over the rim of my cup.
She studies me for a second. “The walk of shame? That’s slightly chaotic behaviour, even for you.”
“I panicked,” I admit. “I woke up, and he was just… naked and there. And it all hit me at once. This isn’t simple,” I say quietly. “I don’t do things like this. I have a son and a job and a life that doesn’t include sleeping with men ten years younger than me on a Friday night.”
Emma leans forward slightly. “But you wanted to.”
I hesitate. “Yes, of course I did.”
“And you still do?”
I look down at my coffee. “That’s not the point.”
“It is the point,” she says gently. “You’re not upset because you didn’t want it. You’re upset because you did.”
That’s uncomfortably close to the truth. “I don’t know what this is,” I say.
“You don’t have to,” Emma replies. “It’s been, what, twelve hours?”
“I know, but—”
“But nothing,” she cuts in. “You went on a date. You had a good time and had sex with him. That’s allowed, Kate. You’re an adult, and it was consensual.”
“It doesn’t feel like something I’m allowed to do.”
Emma’s expression softens slightly. “Why, because you’re over thirty and you have a child? You’re not dead!”
I let out a quiet breath. “Because it matters to me. Sex isn’t just… casual. Not really.”
“And did it feel casual?”
“No,” I admit, almost immediately.
Emma smiles slightly. “You’re overthinking this so much it’s painful to watch.”
“That’s what I do.” If truth be told, overthinking is all I’ve done since Hudson’s dad walked out on us ten years ago. That’s when the walls were built, and the padlocks were fastened. I’ve protected our bubble that whole time, and now this feels too big.
“I know,” she says. “But sometimes you need to stop trying to control every outcome and just let it happen.”
I huff out a quiet laugh. “You make it sound easy.”
“It’s not,” she says. “But neither is shutting yourself off from anything that might actually make you happy.”
Before I can respond, there’s the sound of footsteps, and Hudson appears in the doorway, hoodie on, hair a mess. He stops when he sees me. “You’re here early.”
“Morning,” I say, trying for normal.
He narrows his eyes slightly, looking between Emma and me. “You two are acting weird again.”
“We’re not,” I say quickly as Emma takes a very deliberate sip of her coffee.
Hudson’s gaze lands back on me. “You look tired.” His brow furrows as he studies me more closely.
“I didn’t sleep much.” It’s weak, but right now, I don’t have anything else to offer. Because I was in a twenty-six-year-old hockey player’s bed isn’t something I want to tell him. “I had a lot on my mind,” I say instead.
He studies me for longer than feels comfortable. That protective instinct is there again, just under the surface. “Did something happen?” he asks.
Emma chokes slightly on her coffee.
“No, of course nothing happened.” The words come out rushed, making me appear flustered.
Hudson doesn’t look convinced. “You sure?” He crosses his arms slightly. “You’re acting funny.”
“You’re being nosy.” I counter.
“I’m just asking.”
“I know,” I soften slightly. “I’m okay, I promise.”
He watches me for another second, then nods slowly, like he’s not entirely convinced but willing to let it go for now. “Alright,” he says. “I’m going back to play FIFA with Tom, I’m teaching Freddie the controls.”
“Okay.”
He lingers in the doorway, then adds, “If something did happen, you’d tell me, right?”
My chest tightens unexpectedly. “Of course.” He nods again, then disappears back down the hallway. The moment he’s gone, I drop my head onto the table. “Oh, my God.”
Emma laughs quietly. “That boy is on high alert.” The groan that leaves my mouth is almost feral-like. “He likes Lukas,” she reminds me.
“He doesn’t know Lukas. And neither do I!”
“He knows enough,” she says. “And more importantly, he knows you.”
I lift my head slightly. “What does that mean?”
“It means he can tell when something’s changed.”
I stare at my coffee again because everything has changed. I just don’t know what to do with it yet.
Emma reaches across the table, nudging my hand. “Hey.” I glance up at her. “You didn’t ruin anything,” she says. “You just stepped into something new.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
A slight smile pulls at the corner of her mouth. “Good,” she says. “Because it means you care, and that means it’s worth figuring out.”
I let out a slow breath, leaning back in my chair. Worth figuring out. That feels terrifying but not impossible, and possibly the most dangerous part of it all.