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“Let’s start with him,” I tilt my head back towards the guy I’ve spotted as our first interview subject. “I’ll take the lead for the first one.”
Hudson nods—quite unenthusiastically. It’s a little bit funny, honestly. “I’ll take notes while you talk with him?” he suggests.
“Perfect.”
The guy’s name is Cody, and he answers that a book that made him feel something was the Lord of the Rings series, which he read when he was in high school. He talks about how the adventure made him feel excitement, and how he felt inspired by the way the characters worked together and relied on their bonds of friendship to overcome the challenges.
“See?” I say to Hudson once we step away. “That’s how books can make people feel.”
“Hm,” he hums gruffly.
“Think you’re ready to ask some questions yourself?” I ask, a hint of teasing in my voice.
His broad chest swells with a deep breath that he slowly lets out. “I guess I better pull my weight, huh?”
I stifle a giggle at how unexcited he is. His eyes roam around the room until they fall on a table behind me. “How about her?”
I turn around to spot a blonde girl sitting by herself on the other side of the room, gazing out the window that looks over the campus. She doesn’t seem busy. I shoot Hudson a thumbs up. “I’ll take notes,” I say, grabbing the notebook he was just scribbling in.
As we walk over to her table, I open it up; I’m taken aback when my eyes fall on Hudson’s notes. I didn’t expect him to have handwriting like this. It’s honestly … elegant. It’s a tight, fast cursive style, but easy to read.
We walk up to the girl’s table. Hudson clears his throat. “Uh. Hi,” he grunts.
She looks up to him—and her eyelids disappear. Something sparkles in the girl’s eyes, and I notice her bottom lip drawing in slightly between her teeth as her gaze elevators up and down Hudson’s very tall height.
“We’re, uh … doing an interview,” Hudson. “About books. Can I ask you some questions?”
The girl is still star-struck, and silence hangs in the air for a beat of time. Finally, she nods, indicating the empty chairs on the adjacent side of the table.
The girl’s name is Sara. Hudson explains the project we’re doing, and slowly the star-struck expression washes away from Sara’s face; but it’s replaced by a sultry, hungry one that, for some very strange reason, has my stomach doing an unpleasant little twist.
“Oh, I read a book the other day that really made me feel something,” she says. “It was called Savage Empire.”
“Hm,” Hudson grunts in acknowledgement. “What genre? Fantasy?”
“Something like that,” Sara replies, her voice low and sly.
I surreptitiously look down at the open notebook in front of me so I can roll my eyes undetected. I’ve seen Savage Empire pop up on my Goodreads feed a couple times. It’s a spicy mafia romance.
Something tells me there are some particular scenes from that book playing themselves out very vividly in Sara’s head as her eyes eat up the big, burly goalie sitting next to her.
“Actually,” she says, leaning closer to Hudson, “you kind of remind me of the main character.”
I feel my jaw muscles tensing.
“Oh?” Hudson replies.
My chest feels tight as for a second, I think his voice sounds as if he’s returning her obvious flirting. But when my eyes snap up from my notes, I read in his expression that he’s not.
“Mhm,” Sara coos in reply. “Those … tattoos.”
What’s this feeling pulsing through me that makes me feel like I have mild heartburn, that makes me feel not exactly positive about Sara when I look at her eyes hovering up Hudson’s corded, tatted arms?
Hudson clears his throat. Does he notice that Sara is blatantly ogling him, or is he downright clueless like so many guys are?
And if he does notice … does he like it?
I swallow thickly to try and get the bitter taste out of my mouth.
