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Fuck no.
There’s a time and place for shit like that, and this is not it. Not with my unwell girl in my arms.
Finally, we step outside and down the stairs of the frat house, making our way down the curving path of the sidewalk. I could get my car and bring them home, but by the time I make it there and through the horde of people in the road, it wouldn’t make any sense. I can get her there faster by walking. Part of me wants to just take her home with me, but after how we left things, I’m not sure she’d want that.
“Are you going to carry her?” Tatum asks, eyes wide. “All the way there?”
My gaze narrows. “I’m a fucking hockey player, Tatum. I could carry three of her.”
I head in the direction of the sorority house, leaving Tatum with her jaw hanging open until she ambles toward me, picking up the pace so she can keep up with my strides.
My one and only fucking goal is getting my girl home and into her bed safely. Tonight was a shit show, and I saw my life flash before my eyes with that guy in my hands. I could see myself in a four-by-four jail cell for the foreseeable future with how pissed I was, how close I was to destroying that kid. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much rage in the thirty-three years I’ve been on this fucking planet.
We walk down the street, Tatum practically jogging to keep up with me, until we get to the sorority house. Unlike the frat house, it’s dark and quiet, and I feel inherently better knowing she’ll be home in her bed, where she’s safe. I’ll still worry but a little fucking less knowing that she won’t be around some douchebag frat fuck.
Tatum pulls out her keys and unlocks the front door, then turns to me and holds a finger in front of her mouth, ensuring that I’m quiet as we step over the threshold and she leads me to their room. Once we’re inside, she hits the light, and I carry Caroline to her bed, setting her down gently on the light pink comforter, pushing her hair from her face.
She sighs sleepily, her makeup smeared, never stirring, even when I bring my hand to her face, cradling her jaw tenderly.
God, I fuckingloveher. I’m gone for her.
Every wild, carefree inch of her, and fuck, yeah… nights like tonight make our age difference more apparent. I remember being her age and what I was like, freshly drafted into the NHL, the world at my fingertips. The only thing I chased was girls and a hockey puck. She’s not wrong—our lives are different. But I know that this girl is meant to bemine. How do we make that happen? I don’t fucking know. My world is better with her in it, and I want to figure this out.
I want her however I can have her.
I’m staring down at her sleeping form, absent-mindedly swiping my thumb along her jaw, when Tatum clears her throat. When I turn, her gaze is on me, her arms crossed over her chest as she leans against the wall opposite Caroline’s bed.
“Thanks for helping, but you can’t stay, Hudson…” she says softly, “I… I know that you two are going through stuff, and I don’t know if she would want you to.”
I nod. “I know. Thank you for looking out for her and loving her enough to make decisions like that when she can’t. I just want to make sure she’s okay before I go.” Pausing, I glance back at Caroline, then turn to Tatum again. “Can I get, uh… a makeup wipe? She hates sleeping with it on…”
Tatum nods, her face softening at my words. “Yeah, of course. Here.” She walks over to a table with tubes and bottles scattered across it and grabs a wipe from a little pouch in the drawer, handing it to me.
I may not be able to stay with her tonight because I respect and understand that we’re not together right now… and I’m supposed to be giving her space. But I want to make sure she can at least rest well. I use the wipe to delicately remove the makeup from her face, then unstrap the heels from her feet and grab two Advil from her desk, setting them next to her with a bottle of water. I make sure the trash can is within reach, then lean down and press my lips against her forehead, lingering for a moment as I breathe her in.
I fucking miss her so much there’s a spot inside my chest that aches after only one fucking day apart. I hate that I can’t stay and take care of her. That I can’t take her in my arms and hold her all night. Keep an eye on her as she sleeps it off. Show her how fucking crazy I am about her. But I understand why I can’t. Not tonight.
If there’s one thing I will never do… it’s go against her wishes. I will always respect her enough to put her first.
Tucking her into the covers, I whisper into her ear, even though she’s completely out and probably won’t remember this in the morning, “I love you, Bubblegum. It’s ripping my heart out of my fucking chest to walk away from you right now, but I love you enough to do it. Because you deserve that man. The one who respects your wishes unequivocally. The man that respects your needs more than his desires.”
I sigh, standing straight and turning toward Tatum. “Please call me if she needs anything, okay?”
“I will. Thank you. For everything. You’re a good guy, Hudson.”
I nod but don’t respond, instead walk to the door and turn the knob, opening it.
“Hey, Hudson?” Tatum calls as I step over the threshold.
When I turn back to face her, she’s got a soft smile on her face, and she’s getting into bed with Caroline. “She loves you, you know? It may not be in the loud, over-the-top way you want right now, but she does. Give her time to find it.”
“I’ll wait. I’ll love her in every way she deserves, even if that means from afar.”
23
HUDSON
Islept all of three hours before my phone started going off so much that it vibrated right off the nightstand and fell to the hardwood with a crash that had me jolting upright in the bed, my heart pounding in my chest.
