CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ROYCE
By some miracle, it’s been hours and not a single soul has so much as knocked on our door. For all I know, the world has ended, and Hudson and I are the only two human beings left on earth. Which would suck in terms of saving the human race but would make for a reasonably romantic existence for the two of us.
Hudson’s breathing is shallow, and I can feel the calm rhythm of his heartbeat against my arms, where I have them wrapped tightly around his chest. Over and over again, the conversations replay in my mind as if I’m trying to hammer into my brain just how close I came to never experiencing this moment. But that isn’t the only thing I’m hearing on replay.
I’ve been way too self-absorbed, drowning in all of my own bullshit. I didn’t have time to fully register everything that was said that night during our fight, but I’m remembering now. Hudson has his own load of baggage. Granted, he’s been far better equipped in lugging it around on his own than I’ve been with mine, but after everything, it’s about damn time I offer to carry it with him.
Softly, I kiss the tops of his shoulders, swirling my tongue over his smooth skin and traveling from one shoulder blade down to the other .
He moans, and I’m instantly hard as a fucking rock. Only Hudson can turn me on like this, using just the sound of his voice. Damn, that voice is sexy as hell.
His head turns back to kiss me. “Good morning to you, too,” he mutters into my mouth and I know any and all conversation will have to wait. I need a clear head for what I want to talk about, and with Hudson’s mouth inching its way down my torso, there isn’t enough blood flow moving upward to make that happen just yet.
Later, sitting on the floor wrapped in the bedding hanging off the mattress, with my back against the bed and Hudson’s head resting in my lap, I start over what I failed at earlier.
“You know, this thing, this unload all your ugly crap thing, it goes both ways.”
He smirks. “I don’t have any ugly crap.”
I bounce my leg, jarring him from his comfortable position and his hands fly up in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” He chuckles as he lifts his head to kiss me.
“No trying to distract me. I’m serious. I don’t want there to be anything left between us. I want it all in the open. The good, the bad. The past. What we want for the future.”
He lays his head back down. “That’s easy. You. I want a future with you.”
I have to fight the urge to jump to my feet and break down in an all-out happy dance. Just knowing I feel that way makes me feel like a fucking sap. An insanely happy sap, but a fucking sap none the less. The only comforting thought I can conjure up is reminding myself that I know for a fact Blaise has broken into his share of happy dances. He’s done it in front of Ava, and with her nothing is so sacred that she won’t talk about it, especially if it’s likely to garner a laugh. Which this story did. A lot of laughs.
So, whatever. Blaise is about as macho an asshole there ever was, and he didn’t hesitate to break into a jive the first time Ava absentmindedly referenced having children with him. Someday. Nothing specific. But there he’d been, jiving his badass little heart out.
Anyway, I hold back on the dancing, but the ear-to-ear grin is completely unstoppable.
“I’m glad you want a future with me. That’s what I want, too. But I think we both know we have yet to agree on a path of how to get there. So, in the meantime, tell me how you got here.”
I stroke his jet-black hair, running my fingers over his scalp. It doesn’t matter where I touch him, the feel of his skin on mine continues to send indescribable sensations through my entire body.
Hudson gazes up at me, big brown eyes searching mine for reassurance and I give it by waiting patiently until he’s ready.
“So, you know I was born in Texas. Well, my father is from there. Huge family. Very religious.” He clears his throat. “How he ever ended up with my mother in the first place, I’ll never understand, but I guess she was sort of a novelty to him while he provided some sort of security for her. I don’t know. Anyway, I don’t remember ever having that ‘holy shit, I’m gay moment.’ It was just always kind of a given. I was different. I felt different. And even though I understood pretty early on that most boys liked girls, I was also exposed to plenty of my mother’s artists friends, many of whom were gay. I guess I felt most comfortable around them from the start.” The whole time he speaks, his eyes stay locked on mine.
“Naturally, my dad hated my mother’s crowd, so she kept the two pretty separate. Then, somewhere along the way, I became part of that crowd and there was no way to keep one from the other anymore.”
I let my thumb glide down his cheek and along his jaw. “How did he react?”
Hudson snorts. “Not well. I was twelve when he caught on to the fact that I liked boys. It wasn’t like anyone had been keeping it a secret from him, just hadn’t come straight out and told him. Honestly, it hadn’t ever occurred to me that I would need to. Well, shit hit the fan and next thing I know, my father had me seeing a counselor for a little something called reparative therapy.”
I shake my head. “What’s that, like conversion therapy? Trying to convince you that you’re actually straight?”
“Yep. I went twice a week for six months before my mother found out I wasn’t going to meet with my math tutor on Tuesdays and Thursdays like my father had told her. They fought. Huge blow out. My mother called him every name under the sun while my father simply declared that he would not under any circumstances have a faggot for a son. So, my mother told him he had nothing to worry about. She could fix that. Said while she was it, she’d also take care of that business regarding him having a wife. And that was the end of that. She threw a bunch of stuff into the back of her station wagon and we left that night. Never saw him again.”
“Wow.” Apparently being completely ignored isn’t the worst thing a parent can do to you .
“Yeah. After that, my mother went out of her way to create an environment where I’d never feel rejected ever again. To say I was sheltered would definitely be an understatement, but I’m grateful because those years she homeschooled me and kept me away from people who shared my father’s twisted beliefs made me stronger. By the time I stepped out into the world as an adult, I never second guessed myself. I was okay enough with myself to make up for anyone I might come across who wasn’t. My mother did that for me.” He gets quiet. “But it cost her. Regardless of how many times she’s called him an asshole, my mother loved that man. Whatever differences kept them apart, there were more ties between them that had linked them together. I don’t doubt for one second they’d still be married if things had been different. If I had been different. But I wasn’t.”
It’s my turn to stroke his cheeks and dry the tears his father caused way before I ever even met him. “Well, for very selfish reasons, I’m really glad you’re not different.” I bend down, my lips pressing against his.
“You mean because it would make moments like these particularly awkward?”
I grin, running my left hand along his chest, over his waist and under the covers he has draped over his hips. “For example.”
Mostly I just can’t imagine a world in which I wouldn’t be able to love him the way that I love him. Although, even as I think it, I realize that’s precisely the type of world I created for myself. Or, at least, I believed that I had.
HUDSON
Things have shifted between us. And while I know that our reality hasn’t changed much, our relationship has. All levels of lies and dishonesty have been eliminated. Maybe there are things we still can’t agree on. Compromises we still need to determine. But we have honesty. Real, raw and ugly honesty. And that, is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever shared with anyone.