He checked his watch. 2100 hours. Another two hours, maybe three, before this wrapped up and he could retreat to his hotel room. Tomorrow he'd show up at the wedding, get through the ceremony without making it weird, and then this would be over.
One more day and Hale would go back to the MiddleEast and Elliot would go back to Fort Liberty and they could both go back to pretending.
Across the room, Hale said something that made Novak laugh. His hands moved as he talked—animated and expressive, so different from Elliot's own careful stillness. He looked away and signaled for another drink.
Tomorrow was going to be hell.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
HUDSON
Three years after Selection
Hudson wokeup at 0700 to his alarm and the immediate, unavoidable knowledge that he was completely fucked.
Not in a bad way. Or maybe in a bad way. Hard to tell.
The point was: Shaw was here, at the wedding. He had shown up last night looking criminally good in a button-down shirt, and Hudson had spent all night staring at the ceiling thinking about how many bad decisions he was prepared to make to get in on that.
Turns out? A lot. Like, an impressive amount for someone who was supposed to be a trained military professional with at least some capacity for strategic thinking.
He sat up, running both hands through his hair.
He had spent three years trying to prove to himself Shaw wasn't special. Three years of hooking up with people—girls, guys, whoever was interested and interesting—in a very scientific attempt to demonstrate that whathappened at Selection had been circumstance. Proximity. Convenience. Stress and competition and hormones all combining into a feeling that seemed significant but wasn't, because how could three months define the rest of your life? That would be insane.
Except it turned out Hudson's dick and his heart had both independently reached the same conclusion, which was that Shaw was absolutely special, and no number of other people were going to change that.
So, yeah. He was fucked.
Therefore, Hudson had decided sometime around 0200 when he’d finally given up on sleep: if he was fucked, he might as well be fucked in the fun way. The way that involved Shaw's hands on him, his mouth on him, Hudson being taken apart the way only Shaw seemed capable of.
Not forever—Hudson wasn't delusional. They lived on opposite sides of the country, when they were even home, and Shaw had made it pretty clear three years ago that relationships weren't really his thing. Plus the military situation, which Hudson chose not to think about too much because it would be too depressing.
But one more night to remember instead of spending the rest of his life wondering?
Yeah. Hudson wanted that.
He got out of bed and headed for the shower, already working out his approach.
The wedding wasat some vineyard an hour outside of Fayetteville that Sarah had apparently been obsessed with since she was twelve. Hudson had to admit, it was pretty nice. Rolling hills, rows of grapevines getting readyfor summer, one of those rustic barn venues that cost more money than Hudson made in six months.
Reed and Sarah had decided to do the ceremony outside despite it being March in North Carolina, which meant everyone was freezing their asses off in dress uniform and fancy dresses while pretending this was totally fine and romantic.
Hudson stood with the other guests on the lawn, hands shoved in his pockets, and scanned the crowd for Shaw.
He spotted him near the front standing with a group he didn't recognize. Dark blue fabric pressed to perfection, medals catching the afternoon sun. Clean shaven jaw. A strand of hair falling down his forehead. At parade rest, shoulders back, spine straight, his face was set with the controlled intensity that Hudson loved. No, liked.
The uniform hid everything Hudson could vividly map from memory. Broad shoulders tapering to a lean waist. Defined six-pack. Tattoos snaking across Shaw’s upper body. A very well-defined a?—
Shaw's gaze swept past him, landing on something in the distance before swinging back. Their eyes locked across twenty feet of cold grass. Shaw held his gaze for so long Hudson forgot, briefly, how cold it was.
Shaw's mouth twitched. Then a guest nearby pulled his attention away, back to parade rest, and Hudson could breathe again.
Sort of.
"You okay, man?" Novak appeared at his elbow, eyebrows raised. "You look like you're about to pass out."
"Fine. Just freezing."
