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The beat of silence only makes Sean more agitated. “What? After ignoring my texts, now you’re going to ignore me in person, too? Nothing to say? You stupid bi?—”
Sean’s isn’t able to utter that final word, because out of nowhere, Hudson’s massive hand curls around the front of his collar and has him raised so high in the air that the tips of his feet scrape against the tiled floor.
“You fucking little shit.” Hudson voice is a low, simmering roar. His left hand holds Sean aloft while his right arm is tensed and trembling, his hand curled into a tight fist. A first I desperately hope he doesn’t use, because Sean isn’t worth it.
“I’m going to tell you this once. Once,” he repeats with intense emphasis. “If you ever disrespect my girlfriend again, I’m not going to be nearly as nice as I’m being right now. I’ll fucking end you. You hear me?”
Hudson’s left fist tightens around Sean’s collar after half a second of getting no reply.
“Answer me,” Hudson growls through teeth grit so tightly that his jaw muscles pop.
Sean nods. “Yeah.”
Hudson lets him down. “Good. Now get the fuck out of my sight.”
I don’t even look at Sean as he hurries away. The only thing I can think about is the way Hudson called me his girlfriend.
It’s not just those two words—he’s used those two words before, when I know he was only trying to convince others—but it was the way he said them. He didn’t say those words like he was reading from a script, like he was playing a role, like he wanted random bystanders to buy what he was saying.
He said them like they came from his heart. Like it was the truth.
And when Hudson turns to me and rests his two hands on my shoulders, concern radiating from his caring blue eyes, I sense that truth even deeper.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I nod. “I am. Really. What you said …”
“I meant it,” he says. “I’m tired of pretending this isn’t real. Tired of pretending this isn’t the realest fucking thing I’ve ever had in my life. You’re my girlfriend, Summer. Not for show. Not for pretend. Not for anyone else but for me and you. I don’t want this to end at the end of the semester. I don’t want the word fake to have anything to do with us.”
Hudson’s just told me everything I’ve been dying to hear, and my tongue feels frozen in my mouth.
After two beats of unintentional silence, a shadow of doubt passes over Hudson’s expression. “Unless you …”
Even though words fail me, I can still use my mouth to stamp out Hudson’s doubts. My arms fling around his neck and my lips press to his. My kiss is rough and tender at once, desperate to communicate everything I’m feeling.
His hands find my back and press me tight to him. I drown in the sensation of everything that is Hudson. The hardness of his torso, how comfortable his arms feel around me, his masculine scent, his soft lips. Those lips now start to kiss me back, and there’s nothing soft about the way he does it.
He kisses me like he’s claiming me. Not like before, when he kissed me in a way to make others believe I was his—he’s kissing me to make me know that I’m his.
My lips are swollen and buzzing in the best way when he pulls back. My red lipstick is smeared over his lips, and there’s a dreamy look in his eyes. The sight is so sexy that desire pounds at the height of my thighs.
Now that I know we’re both on the same page with how we feel, that desire is deeper than purely physical. I’m desperate to feel Hudson on top of me, inside me, while at the same time knowing that I’m in his heart like he’s in mine.
I turn my head to see that Olivia’s back. Her lips are puckered around the thin black straw of her drink, and her eyes are wide as she regards us. “In case you’re going to ask. Yeah, I’ll be fine here if you leave early.”
Flames of desire lick in Hudson’s gaze when I lock my eyes with his. “Let’s get out of here.”
41
SUMMER
“Mine.” Hudson pulls his lips away from our kiss just long enough to say the word. But it’s more than a word. It’s a claim and a promise at once.
“All yours,” I confirm after pressing our lips together again.
The second my front door closed, his mouth was pressed to mine. We shed clothing as we stumble up to my room. My shoes are by the door. Hudson’s shirt somewhere on the stairs. I wiggle out of my dress at the top of the stairs. Hudson kicks off his pants at the threshold of my room.
Our underwear finds its way off our bodies between my door and my bed, and by the time we’re lying on it, we’re nude, our hands hungrily caressing each other’s bodies.
