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“For a year and a half,” Sean replies, his eyes narrow slits.
“Hm,” Hudson answers on a shrug.
I fight my lips from twitching into a grin. Sean tried to bait Hudson with some stupid, macho I had your girl first routine, and Hudson didn’t even nip at it.
Sean’s razor-sharp gaze ricochets between Hudson and me. “Not usually your type, Summer.” It’s impossible to miss the way his eyebrow arches with suspicion.
“You know, a couple days ago Summer told me something very wise,” Hudson says. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” I try not to laugh, remembering that’s actually something he told me. “It turns out we have a lot in common, and we’re very compatible. In more ways than one.”
My cheeks redden when Hudson makes it clear what he’s suggesting, wiggling his eyebrows in my direction with a roguish look in his eyes.
Time for another sip of my drink.
Hudson’s a really good actor. Fake boyfriend Hudson is a totally different person than grumpy seat neighbor Hudson who can barely manage to string half a dozen words together.
I guess he’s really motivated to hold up his end of this deal so that his cat has a nice home. Yeah, that must be it.
A dark look crosses over Sean’s features. I know him well that I can read he doesn’t buy me and Hudson as legit. But if he was hoping to find a crack in our façade so quickly, he’s let down.
The glimmer of defiance I can read in his eye also tells me Hudson was right: seeing that kiss on campus never would have been enough to make him give up. Selling this relationship with Hudson enough to get Sean off my back will take more than I bargained for.
“Yo, Sean!” someone shouts from across the room. “Get over here, man! You gotta see this!”
Sean flashes one more dubious look at Hudson before turning around to rejoin his friends. A breath of relief whooshes out of me once he’s walking away.
“You did good,” Hudson whispers.
I feel drained already. Exhausted. I guess I just wasn’t built for lying and deception. But I’m in way too deep now to back out.
“I need another drink,” I say, looking down and seeing that my red solo cup is empty.
While we’re grabbing some more drinks from the kitchen, I notice a girl I had a class with and became friendly with last semester in the backyard. I tell Hudson that I want to say hi, and we go out through the backdoor at the end of the kitchen.
There’s a small back porch with two wooden steps leading to the lawn. While walking down, I step awkwardly and trip. I let out a gasp, but Hudson’s arms wrap around me, and suddenly I’m flush against him, his woodsy, masculine scent making me lightheaded, my heart still palpitating from the near fall.
Yeah, it’s definitely not the feeling of Hudson’s arms wrapped around my waist, or my boobs pressing against the rock-hard plane of his chest that has my heart acting that way …
“Thanks,” I say, my feet dangling in the air as Hudson holds me up effortlessly. I’m probably no more difficult for him to hold than a pillow. “You can put me down now.”
His plush lips slice into a grin. “I know I can, but why would I?”
Heat zaps between my legs. I feel slick at the height of my thighs. My nipples are so firm and tight that they ache. With my boobs pressed flush against Hudson, can he feel the hardness of the nubs even through our shirts?
“If you were my girlfriend,” he says, his voice low, his eyes simmering. “I’d carry you all the time. I wouldn’t be able to get enough of you in my arms.”
Images of Hudson carrying me quickly give way to images of Hudson manhandling me, throwing me around, in much more private places than a house party. Now the slickness between my legs turns into a throb, tight heat pooling low in my core as flames lick up my spine.
What Hudson just said … it couldn’t have been for show. He wasn’t talking as my fake boyfriend, putting on a mask to fool my ex and my friends. He was talking as himself.
Something changes in Hudson’s expression. It’s like he sobers up, the simmering heat cooling in his eyes.
He clears his throat and sets me down. It’s like the bubble we were just in popped. When we go to walk to my friend, Hudson’s arm is no longer slung over me. He’s standing further away, too.
The space between us feels cold. I don’t like it.
While I chat with my friend, Hudson seems to revert to his old, tight-lipped self. He still introduces himself and talks enough to come across as polite, but he’s not as affectionate as he was moments ago, inside.
He’s not touching me, he’s not looking at me as much, and there’s something missing in his voice.
