Slap Shot (D.C. Stars, #3)

by Chelsea Curto

For the ones with gentle souls and hearts made of gold. (And for the readers who love to see the sweet six-foot-two NHL player use his mouth for something other than talking… Hudson Hayes is for you)

The best part of my job is being in charge of entitled men who think they’re better than me because they have a dick.

I definitely giggled

“Damn right.” He taps my fist with his. “And we got in this morning. I would’ve liked to spend a few extra days in Bali, but Emmy demanded we get back so she can get into a routine before the season starts.” A dopey, dreamy smile settles on Maverick’s face. “God. I love that woman.” Emmy—Emerson—Hartwell is his wife and another one of my best friends. She’s the first woman to play in the NHL, and Maverick fell head over heels for her when she was on the DC Stars with us. The pair are the definition of opposites attract, but he wore her down enough to earn a second of her attention. Through a weird twist of fate, they started dating, fell in love, and got married in Vegas last season.

A week of job searching has left me empty-handed and on the brink of joining OnlyFans.

I'm dead

Piper says, and I notice how easy she is to talk to. She’s genuine. Authentic in her enthusiasm and gracious in her sympathy. Hell, she answered the phone for a number she doesn’t know. That speaks to her character.

“Where did she—Madeline? Are you okay?” she calls out, and my frown turns even deeper. “Who the hell is Madeline?” I ask. “You’ll see.” “Did you set me up on a blind date? My shirt has a hole in it, Piper. That’s not how I make a good first impression. And I didn’t bring wine. Flowers. Anything.”

Ugh he's perfect

I shift my attention back to Madeline. She’s juggling three different tasks at the same time without batting an eye. I swear I saw her spin a knife in her hand ten seconds ago without cutting herself, and I kind of want her to do it again.

I scoop a forkful of curry into my mouth, and it takes everything in me to hold back a moan. “Holy shit.” I swallow the bite, and I swear there are tears in my eyes. This must be what heaven is like: savory chicken. The touch of heat, and the best damn thing I’ve ever eaten. “You can actually cook. And not just cook. You can cook well.”

“Interview. Yes. That.” I nod and dig into the rice on my plate. I’m sure I look like a savage, but I don’t care. “How long are you in town? Are you free next week to get together?” “Really? You want to interview me? You barely know me,” Madeline says. “I could’ve poisoned the food.” I snort. I like her sarcasm. “Don’t care. This will be a good way to go.”

When we’re finished with our food, I’m the first to stand. I gather the empty plates and stack them on top of each other. I add the silverware and shove my chair out of the way. “I can do that,” Madeline says, grabbing a knife and a fork.”I made the mess.” “Nope.” I take the fork from her grasp and head for the kitchen with footsteps trailing behind me. “My mom always told me the person who cooks is the person who gets a pass on cleaning up. I didn’t lift a finger tonight, so this is my job. I got it.” “I don’t mind. Really.” I hum, setting all the dirty dishes in the sink. “Save your energy for your interview next week.”

OH MY YUMMY

Easy E DAVE’S DOGS IS COMING BACK TO THE ARENA, BABY. I started a petition with the food and bev people, and he’s coming BACK! Mitchy This is why you’re interrupting our rest before the game? To tell us a hot dog vendor is back? G-Money LET’S FUCKING GO!!!! Me I’m happy for you, E, but you couldn’t wait until tonight to tell us? Seymour I was two seconds away from falling asleep. If I suck tonight, I’m blaming you, Ethan. Easy E It’s the preseason, boys!!! You’ll be fine!! G-Money I kind of want a hot dog now lol. Easy E Want to go to the cart on the corner across from the hotel and get one??? Sully I’m going to commit a murder. Me Move it to a private chat, y’all. And don’t eat anything that will make you shit your pants tonight. Mavvy Your alternate captain knows what’s up, children. And shut up so I can sleep. Easy E Love u dad G-Money Xoxo Mavvy Daddy Wait. Does Emmy call you Daddy? Lol Easy E No way. He probably calls her Mommy. I would! Mavvy I’m going to break your jaw.

This is the best

Madeline Have a good match tomorrow night! Me Game. We play games, not matches. If I played cricket, that would’ve worked really well. (But thank you. That’s kind of you to say) Madeline It’s all the same, isn’t it? You’re trying to get an object in the goal. Match. Game. It doesn’t matter. Go sports! Me This is going to be fun.

“For you, Mom,” I say to the empty room. “Always for you.” One of the overhead lights flickers, and I laugh. “Yeah. I know you’re here. You wouldn’t miss this. Sometimes I can still hear you yelling at me to get the rebound.” I pause, my shoulders heavy and my eyes wet with tears. “Fuck. I miss you, Mama.” I kiss my finger and point up. Feelings in check and ready to shove some grown men into tempered glass, I slowly emerge from the locker room.

“What was with the penalty you got earlier? I saw you chirping that dude.” “He liked one of Emmy’s photos on Instagram last week, and it pissed me off. The hit was worth the two-minute timeout I got in the sin bin.” “You’re joking.” “Nope.” “You might be the most deranged man I’ve ever met.” “Nah. Just an idiot in love.”

“Don’t compare Lexi to regurgitated meat,” Riley chimes in. “This is your own fault.” “Shut up, Mitchy.” “Grant—you can puke again during the next intermission, but you’re getting back on the ice. Riley—focus on the game, not what someone is saying about your girl,” I tell them. “She’s not my girl,” Riley grits out. “You look at her like she’s your girl,” Mav teases.

Maverick passes out the second we’re seated on the charter plane. I snap a quick picture of him for blackmail,

“Brownies?” Hudson lights up. His fingers brush against mine when he takes the plate, and I shiver. “I try to be good about my sugar intake during the season, but I’m a sucker for anything chocolate. Anything sweet, really.” “Noted.” I run my hands over the front of my jeans and shift on my feet. “Should I take off my shoes? Or⁠—” A big dog with yellow fur comes charging down the hall, interrupting me. When he gets close, he puts his paws on my shoulder and licks my cheek. “Shit. Sorry. Asparagus.” Hudson tugs on the dog’s collar and pulls him away. “No jumping.” “Asparagus?” I smile down at the dog wagging its tail. “Do you always randomly call out vegetables?” He hides his laugh behind a cough and scratches the dog’s head. “It’s Gus’s full name.”

I’ve heard those lines a hundred times before, but this is the first time I actually believe them. Madeline means business, and I appreciate how she’s not scooting closer to me. I like how she’s keeping her legs turned slightly to the side so they don’t touch mine. I appreciate that her eyes haven’t lingered on my chest and she’s kept her attention on my face, not my ass. I think I appreciate her.

“I’m used to cooking in a kitchen half this size with six people around me.” She reaches for a knife and weighs it in her hand. Keeping her eyes on me, she does that spinning thing again, and I’m on the edge of my seat. I don’t know why I think that’s hot as hell. “I can handle two things at once.”

Madeline grins. “Thanks for the offer. I’ll see how the apartment search goes, and I’ll let you know. Lucy’s never lived with a man before, but I’ll keep it in mind.” There’s a story there. One about her ex and who I’m assuming is Lucy’s dad. I want to know what happened, but it’s not my place to ask. If she wants to tell me, she’ll tell me on her terms, and that’s fine by me.

He’s the goalie! “He is the goalie,” I say and sign so everyone can be included in the conversation. I see him on TV! Hello, Liam signs. He touches his chest with a flat palm. My. His first two fingers tap the top of his other two fingers in the shape of a cross. Name is. Then he slowly spells out L-I-A-M with the ASL alphabet. Lucy lights up. She doesn’t meet many adults who use sign language outside of her classroom and my parents, and I’m not sure he knows what he’s gotten himself into. I’m Lucy. I’m six. How old are you? Do you have any dogs? Or cats? I like cats too. Cat, he tells her. P-I-C-O-D-E-G-A-T-O, he spells, and I laugh. “Isn’t that a silly name, Lucy?” I ask, speaking and signing at the same time again. I don’t know the extent of his ASL vocabulary, and I don’t want anyone to feel overwhelmed. “Do you know what it means?” She shakes her head. No. “A type of salsa is p-i-c-o-d-e-g-a-l-l-o. The Spanish word for cat is g-a-t-o. He combined the words, and his cat is named…” I struggle with how to explain it to her. “Salsa cat.” Salsa cat. She repeats my hand movements, giggling. That is silly, Mommy.

Bro these men

We make our way into the park through an iron gate, and I spot Hudson right away. He’s scrolling on his phone, and when he looks up and our eyes meet, he grins. He gives me a wave and flips his hat backward before walking toward us. Jesus Christ. Shit like that should be illegal for men to do in public.

Me too girl

Madeline Hi! I dropped Lucy off at school and I’m headed your way with suitcases. Me Make sure you don’t go the wrong way on the Metro again. Madeline Not funny. Me I laughed. Maybe you need a new sense of humor, Galloway. Madeline Wrong thing to say to the girl who has a pack of knives with her, Hayes. I didn’t take the Metro, by the way. Piper let me borrow her car. Me She did? I could’ve picked you up. Madeline That’s okay! I’m going to unload our stuff, drive back to Piper and Liam’s, then pick up Lucy from school and take the Metro to your place where we’ll be for good. Me You’ll tell me the next time you need a ride. Madeline Okay, bossy. I didn’t want to inconvenience you. Me It’s not an inconvenience if it’s something I want to do.

“You’re a good mom,” I say, and her bottom lip quivers. I remind myself to tell her that frequently when she’s around.

“Those kinds of things.” I make a show of glancing around. “I don’t see any of that here. Do you?” “No. Not… not currently. I don’t want to assume anything, but I figured it would be best to set those expectations now.” “Fair enough.” I lean back and rest my ankle on my thigh. “Full disclosure: I’ve never been the guy who likes random hookups. I’ve never had a one-night stand, and I don’t sleep with a woman unless she means something to me.” “Never?” “Never. I like relationships. Meaningful conversations. Getting to know a person before I take off their clothes. I swear that’s not a line I’m using,” I add, and it’s my turn to blush. I didn’t expect to be having this conversation in my kitchen. “Why?” “Blame my parents.” I rub my thumb over my bottom lip and laugh. “My dad met my mom when they were seventeen, and he was a goner from the moment he laid eyes on her. She wanted the chase, though, because she knew he was going to be it for her, too. But she was adamant he work for it, so they didn’t date until they were nineteen. They got married that same year and never looked back.” “So, you’re a romantic.” “Are you not?” “No.” Madeline shakes her head. “Not at all. I think it’s all kind of bullshit. Nothing lasts forever.”

She smiles at me, and I savor the damn thing. It feels like a perfect summer day. Sun on your face and wind in your hair.

Every morning when I get up, his dirty plates are arranged neatly in the dishwasher. The sink is clean, and there’s hardly a trace of him to be found. The only sign he’s been there is a different sticky note on the counter. Always in the same place—right by the stove—and always with the same message: a thank you scribbled in his messy handwriting. With a little smiley face in the bottom right corner. It’s a silly thing. Something I wouldn’t usually notice, and I don’t know why it makes me laugh when I’m groggy and sleep-deprived. But it does.

“Look at Ethan. Dude would be the world’s worst father.” “The day he has a kid is the day hell freezes over.” Maverick rifles through his bag.

Well that's akward

“But now I can smell it. Did you bathe in it?” “I might as well have.” He sits in the chair next to the couch and grimaces. “I think it’s in my hair.” “I hope you retaliated appropriately.” “Yeah.” His grin widens to a beam. “I launched a whole bowl of tzatziki at Grant’s face.” “Ah, to be thirty again.” Hudson leans forward and grabs the collar of his stained shirt with one hand. He pulls it over the back of his head and all the way off, leaving him bare-chested. I gape at him, caught off guard by seeing his naked torso for the first time. Broad shoulders covered in patches of freckles give way to sculpted biceps and pec muscles. His skin is smooth and blemish-free, his summer tan fading away as we move through November. Blond hair cascades down his stomach and disappears in his jeans. There’s a mole next to his belly button and veins that travel down his arms. My mouth goes dry, and I know I’m no better than a man with the thoughts racing through my head. I’m staring at him like I haven’t been fed in goddamn years, but I can’t help it. Hudson Hayes is built like a god, and he’s hot as hell. I could pretend to be oblivious to it before. Sure, he has a pretty face. A smile that can make you blush and eyes that twinkle when he thinks something is really funny. But now? Now I know he has a six-pack. Now I know he’s been hiding a body that looks like it was handcrafted out of the finest marble, but he does and he is, and my brain nearly short-circuits because of it. “Jesus Ch...

“So, you’re a lightweight? I can’t wait to see this.” “I’m two hundred pounds. It’s going to take more than one glass of alcohol to get me drunk.” He stands and drapes his shirt over his shoulder. It’s absurd he walks around looking like that. “Do you need anything while I’m up?” “Nope,” I say. “I’m fine.” I’m treated to a view of his back muscles as he walks away, and I push the heels of my palms into my eyes. It’s wrong to be gawking at him.

How did we feel about this one?” “It was mediocre,” Liam says. “I liked the narrators. I didn’t like the story.” “How did you not like the story?” Ethan asks. “It’s about a basketball player pretending to date his best friend’s sister. And she says she doesn’t like him. It’s gold.” “I’m tired of books that claim the main characters don’t like each other. I want to see it. Give me a dagger to the throat,” Liam says, and Grant nods in agreement. “Pretty sure that could be considered assault,” Riley chimes in. “Not in dark romance it’s not,” Grant says. “That’s why I like that shit the most.” “Yeah, because stalkers are more believable than two people not liking each other,” I draw out. “They could be,” Grant challenges. “And fantasy too. When they’re sword fighting and he’s all I hope you’re prepared to meet your end, and she’s all I’d sooner die than let you win, and then he nicks her cheek and smirks? I live for that shit.” “Holy shit. Should we bring swords to the arena and fight?” Ethan asks. “Not happening,” I say. “I don’t trust half of y’all with sticks, let alone a weapon that could slash someone in half.” “Mitchy?” Maverick asks. “Thoughts on the book?” Riley clears his throat. “I liked it. I really liked the scene where, ah…” He trails off and grabs his beer, taking a long sip. “The car scene.” “The car scene.” Ethan slaps the table. “That was hot.” “And illegal,” I say. “My god, man. Have you ever had any fucking fun in your life? We know you’d never get a woman ...

Oh this is actual entertainment

“Who are you dating right now anyway?” Connor asks. “You haven’t mentioned anyone in a while.” I shrug. “Because I’m not dating anyone.” “Uh oh. Did our resident romantic turn into a cynic?” Riley sighs. “Dammit. You were my only hope for believing in love, Hayes.” “I’m not a cynic. I just…” I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ll get back out there, but for now it’s nice to enjoy what’s happening around me.” “You love to date,” Maverick says, and I shrug again. I don’t say the things I’m thinking: how I’m always worried I’m too much. Too over the top, like women in the past have called me. That the therapy I’ve been doing since my mom’s death is working, but I still feel like I’m this ball of emotion who loves people too fiercely, who cares too deeply, who wonders if my brain might be hardwired wrong. Too soft for an athlete, an ex called me. You’re mature, but I want someone who’s a little wilder, another said. Maybe I am losing hope. Maybe every day I become less of a romantic.

NOO MY BABY

“Not yet,” Liam says. “How’s it going with Madeline and Lucy?” That surprises me. Liam’s never been one to care about what goes on off the ice. In fact, he actively avoids it. There’s a hint of protectiveness behind his question, though, and it makes me think I need to answer very carefully or he’ll put a fist in my face. “Really well,” I say. “We go to the park with the dogs and hang out. Madeline is a great chef, and we get along well.” I leave out the part where we sat on my couch together the other night. How her laughs turned into snorts and how I couldn’t help having one more glass of wine because it meant spending a little more time with her. I didn’t regret a single minute of it when I got to practice the next day. “Piper likes Madeline. And I love Piper. I’m not going to be happy if the woman I care about loses a friend because you can’t keep those precious hands of yours to yourself.” “When did tonight go from book club to a pile-on-Hudson discussion?” I grumble. “It’s not like that with her. We’re friends, and we established a professional relationship early on.” “Good.” Liam smiles, and it freaks me out.

I lean back and let them go at each other. They’re always like this, and they won’t cause any actual damage. At twenty-three and twenty-four, they’re the youngest of the group, and it’s good to see they’re not growing up too fast. “How long are you going to let them flail around before you stop them?” I ask Maverick, and he snorts. “It would be nice to leave them here for the rest of the night. But I guess I should step in, right?” “That’s why you wear the big C on your jersey.” “Could be because of my big c⁠—” “Ow, you fucker.” Ethan flips Grant onto his back and straddles him. “Apologize for pulling my hair.” “Never,” Grant yells. “If you don’t want to apologize for acting like a toolbag, you have to answer one of my burning questions.” Ethan smirks. “What the fuck is up with that notebook you carry around with you?” “It’s full of numbers I get from girls,” he’s quick to say. “A way to keep track of their names.” “There’s no way you’re pulling that much pussy,” Ethan says. “Fuck you. I can pull whoever I want. I get plenty of action.” “Maybe you should try and pull Hudson’s new roommate. If he’s not going to, someone should. I hear she’s hot as fuck. You could show her you know how to use a stick. Get it?” “Hey,” I say sharply, and everyone stares at me. I’m not one to raise my voice, but I hate hearing this kind of shit. “I don’t care if that was a joke. Knock it the fuck off or save it for the bar when I’m not around. And keep my roommate’s name out of your mouth. None...

“Hey, KG.” “Hey, hockey guy.” “I’m glad y’all are here. Does Lucy still want to learn how to skate?” “She does, and she’s very excited to go fast with you,” I say. “Just… not too fast, okay?” “I promise I’ll keep things controlled. Under sixty miles an hour,” he teases. “If I’m going to teach Lucy, I’m going to have to touch her. I’ll have to hold her hand and put my arms around her so she learns how to balance. Are you comfortable with that?” “I am.” I nod, chest pinching tight with his check in. “Thanks for asking. You two have fun. I’m going to watch from here.”

UGHHHH

“You’re going to be great.” My foot almost slips out from under me when I enter the rink. I grab the half-wall beside me and hold on for dear life. “This was a very bad idea. I haven’t updated my will. I haven’t seen the Grand Canyon or the Great Barrier Reef yet. I’m too young to die.” Hudson holds out his hand. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he says in an even-keeled voice. “Do you promise?” “I promise, Madeline,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.” I blow out a breath and lace our fingers together, believing him. “Okay.” He gently moves me away from the wall. My legs shake, and I hunch forward. There’s a red mark on the ice that looks suspiciously like blood, and I wonder who injured themselves here. I’ll probably be next. “Try standing up straight. There you go. That’s perfect.” Hudson smiles when I straighten my spine. “And try to look up, not down. Don’t you want to stare at my handsome face?” “No offense to your supposedly handsome face, Bombshell, but looking down means I can see if I’m about to fall.” “I’ll catch you before that happens.”

With one more glance my way, Hudson takes off. He makes sure to stop and give Lucy a high five too, and seeing the way he makes a point to include my daughter has my heart growing three sizes. There are a lot of men in the world, but I’m learning there’s only one Hudson Hayes.

“Oh, no. The lightning scared Lucy too. I held her in my bed for an hour or two before she finally fell asleep.” “Next time we should make a fort in the living room and have a party.” “I like that idea.”

Can he get any more perfect?

I’m happy to be back, though, and I follow the soft glow from the television down the hall to the living room. When I round the corner, I freeze. Hudson is asleep on the couch, and his body takes up all the cushions. Next to him, Lucy is curled against his chest. Her face is buried in his shirt and his left arm is wrapped around her, as if he’s keeping her from falling off the sofa. Gus and Millie are on the floor beneath them, snoozing soundly. My breath catches. It feels like someone is squeezing my heart unbearably tight, and I pull my phone out of my purse so I can capture this moment. I want to be able to remember it two months from now when I’m having a bad day and need something that will make me smile.

“Hope you can’t see any drool in that photo. I didn’t mean to keep her up past her bedtime. She’s been asleep for a while now, I think, and⁠—” “It’s the weekend. She’ll sleep a little longer in the morning, and she’ll be fine. Kids are resilient. Much stronger than my ass, because I’m going to be fighting a hangover when the sun comes up. Let me get her to her room so you can head to bed.” “I can do it.” Hudson climbs off the couch and stands. He scoops Lucy in his arms, looking down at me. “Come say good night, Mads.” Mads. I like that.

RAHHH

“I stuffed my face tonight too. I’m pretty sure I’m going to explode like a can of biscuits when I take off my jeans.” Hudson blinks, and it’s like he moves from unconscious to wide awake in the span of two seconds. His gaze roams down my body, and he’s never looked at me like this. Intentionally, and without an hurry. Under his attention, I’m aware of the thin straps of my bodysuit slipping down my arm. The way my breasts are pushed together and how tightly my pants hug my thighs. It’s like he’s undressing me, almost, and when his eyes get back to my face, they’re full of heat. “Wow. You look—” He stops mid-sentence. His throat bobs around a swallow. “Incredible.” “I do?” “Yeah.” His voice is deeper than before, and he can’t stop staring at my collarbone. “I like your shirt. Top. Thing.” I think I’m a little drunk. I think my conversation with the girls earlier is making me a little bold, because instead of hiding, I stay in place. I lean back and rest my hands on the edge of the counter, pushing my chest out ever so slightly. Hudson’s eyes flick to my breasts for a millisecond before he glances at the floor and cups the back of his neck, acting like he got caught doing something he shouldn’t have. I wonder what it would feel like if he hooked his thumbs in my bodysuit’s straps and dragged them down my arms. I wonder what it would feel like to have his hands on me. I’ve been wondering about these things more and more lately, and I wonder if he’s wondering about them too. ...

He lifts his chin, eyes zeroing in on the corner of my mouth. He steps toward me, and I don’t know what’s happening. “You have something on your face.” “What?” I brush at my cheek, self-conscious. “Is it gone?” “No.” Hudson chuckles and licks his thumb. “Give me a second.” Cupping my chin, he tilts my head back. He moves the pad of his thumb to my face, and I think I’m being electrocuted. It’s the most physical contact I’ve had in years, and sparks ignite at the base of my spine. A million synapses fire in my brain. My insides are dangerously close to melting into liquid mush, and I’m burning up. Hudson keeps his eyes on me as he drags his thumb across my skin. It’s torturously slow. Achingly tender, and I stopped breathing ten seconds ago. He goes from my cheek to my jaw to the pulse point on my throat, his touch lingering there. This is the best feeling in the world. “Better?” I whisper. “Perfect,” he says. He doesn’t pull away, and I don’t step back. We stay exactly as we are, and it takes everything in me to not tilt my head. To not turn my cheek and nuzzle into his embrace, a plant begging for sunlight.

“Man. I wish I could’ve seen that. It sounds like a good night.” “Just missing you.” His fingers graze down my neck the tiniest amount before he drops his hand away. I miss him. “It’s late. I should get to bed. Coach is going to kick our asses tomorrow after giving us today off.” “Me too. What time do you want breakfast in the morning?” “Want to meet back here at eight?” “Yeah. I do.” I fill up a glass with filtered water from the fridge and smile at him. I’m already looking forward to it. To seeing him again. “Good night, hockey guy.” “Good night, Mads.”

“Holy shit. What smells so good?” Hudson drops his keys on the counter and walks around the island. “Fuck. Is this the lemon pepper chicken I like?” He’s been busy with an away game, a home game, and a community outreach project, and I’ve barely seen him since the night I went out with the girls. Since the night he touched my face and made my stomach swoop low, and I’m glad he’s here. I’m glad to have a few minutes with him, because I’m learning I miss him when he’s gone for too long.

“I know you’re all sick of hearing me say it, but I’m thankful for my Emmy girl. Through the good. The bad. You’re always by my side, and I can’t believe I get to do life with you. This year has tested the heck out of us, but I love you more than I did yesterday, and I’m going to love you even more tomorrow. Thank you for choosing me, baby. You know I’m always going to choose you.” He sits and scoots his chair closer to Emmy, and it takes everything in me not to audibly swoon.

“Hey.” Maverick pulls up to my side. “You okay, man?” “Hurts like hell, but I’ll be all right.” I look at his split lip and the bruise already forming on his cheek. The front of his jersey is bright red from blood, and I laugh. “Christ, Mavvy. Are you okay?” “You should see the other guy.” His grin shows off dried blood on his teeth. “Fucked him up real good.” “You didn’t have to do that.” “’Course I fucking did.”

“Snickerdoodle. You, um, mentioned they were your favorite on Thanksgiving, so I wanted to give them a try. I think they turned out okay, but you’ll have to be the judge.” “Delicious dinners. My favorite cookies. You’re too good to me.” My tongue sneaks between my teeth as I wrap the bandage around her finger. She winces in pain, and I gently smooth over the area with my thumb. “Almost done. You’re doing so well.”

I'm literally giggling right now.

“If the pain gets worse in the middle of the night, knock on the wall or yell. I don’t want to see you wincing at breakfast and find out I could’ve done something to help,” she says. “Same for you. If you need another Band-Aid or fresh gauze, you know where I am.” “Yeah. I do.” Madeline stands and gives me one last look before turning off my lamp. “Good night, Hudson.” “Night, Mads,” I say, wishing I could’ve found a way to make her stay.

“I’m really glad you and Lucy are here.” “What?” She shoves my uninjured arm. “Come on. That’s not what’s on your mind.” “Let me finish. My mom passed away a few years ago,” I say. Madeline freezes. Her grip on me loosens, but she doesn’t let go. “Hudson.” “It’s been a while since I’ve been happy like this. And I know you and Lucy are the reason why.” “What happened?” she whispers. “Breast cancer. Undetected until it was terminal.” I glance up at the sky. Mom wouldn’t mind that I’m talking about her; she used to love it. She was the life of every party. Bright and warm and so welcoming to others. “It all happened so fast, which I guess is a blessing. She didn’t have to suffer for years. I just… I miss her, you know? I’m doing better mentally than I was when she passed. I go to therapy. I’m not where I was when she was here, and I don’t think I ever will be, but I’m getting close.” “Oh, you sweet boy.” Madeline sets down her glass and moves the plate. She reaches for me and wraps me in an embrace I didn’t know I needed until I bury my face in her hair and hug her back. Fuck the pain. “I am so sorry.”

A car horn goes off down the block, and I swear I see a shooting star above us. “Hudson?” “Hm?” “Thank you for telling me about your mom. Thank you for listening to me. Just… thank you.” We don’t say anything else. I put my chin on top of her head and drape an arm over the back of the bench. I like having her by my side. She might be the most favorite friend I’ve ever had, and I know I should be the one thanking her.