Hudson excused himself because he needed five minutes to not feel things in public.
The bathroom was blessedly empty. Hudson leaned against the sink, running cold water over his wrists because that was supposed to help with… overheating? Emotions?
The door opened.
Shaw walked in and didn’t seem surprised to find Hudson there. Had he followed him?
Hudson shot him a look. "Hey.”
"Hey." Shaw moved to the sink a couple of spots over and turned on the water. “Good speech.”
He watched Shaw wash his hands—remembered them on him, in him. He swallowed hard. “Yeah?”
"If only it was always that simple."
Hudson found Shaw’s eyes in the mirror. "Pretty sure that was the whole point, Shaw. Sometimes you just have to—" he gestured vaguely "—go all in."
He pushed off the sink and stepped closer.
"You've been drinking," Shaw said, turning to him.
"Little bit." Hudson held his gaze. "Needed the courage."
"For what?"
Hudson took another step closer. "I've been thinking about you for three years. Tried not to. Doesn't seem to be working."
Shaw's jaw tightened. "Hale?—"
"I'm not asking for forever," Hudson said. "Or for anything complicated. I just—" He stopped, made himself say it clearly. "I want you. That's all. One more time."
The words hung between them. Hudson's pulse thrummed in his throat. Shaw studied him with an expression he couldn't quite read—surprised, maybe, or calculating, or both.
"You're drunk."
"I'm drunk enough to be honest. Still sober enough to mean it."
Shaw's expression darkened. "And tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow I fly back to Bagram and we go back to our lives." He shrugged, even though his hands were shaking. "But if you want… we could have tonight."
Shaw stayed very still, reading his face as if there was a right answer somewhere if he searched hard enough.
Then his hand came up, fingers wrapping around Hudson's wrist, thumb pressing against his pulse point. "My hotel's ten minutes from here."
Hudson's breath caught. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Shaw's grip tightened. Something hungry and certain crossed his face. "Let's go."
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
HUDSON
Three years after Selection
Nine minutes,according to the GPS. Hudson was committed to using every single one of them to outline exactly what he was about to do to Shaw. In graphic detail, on a loop.
Turns out, Shaw behind a wheel was exactly the same as Shaw in a military setting. He used his turn signal in an empty parking lot at midnight for crying out loud. Hudson bit down on the inside of his cheek.
