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

by Chelsea Curto

You don’t have to be. It would be fun if you girls were there, but no pressure. You girls. There goes my damn heart again, skipping a beat. Fucking traitorous thing. I appreciate when he includes Lucy. I appreciate how she’s not overlooked, and if I could have two minutes with Hudson’s mom, I’d make sure to tell her how gentle her son’s soul is.

“Five-minute warning,” Hudson says from down the hall, and I grab my clutch. “Coming!” I answer, making sure I have my phone and lipstick before I slip out of my room. When I round the corner into the living room, my tongue almost falls out of my mouth. Hudson is wearing a tuxedo that hugs every curve of his body. His blond hair is styled neater than it is when he’s around the house, and his beard looks freshly trimmed. There’s a silver watch clasped around his left wrist, and his white bowtie is decorated with dozens of Christmas trees. I carefully touch my lips to make sure I’m not drooling. I’ve seen him in the suits he wears to and from the arena on game day, but this is different. He looks like pure man. Devastatingly handsome with a hint of softness in his smile. “Hi,” I blurt, and he looks up from his phone. Hudson’s eyes rake down my body and take in the snowflake necklace sitting against the top of my chest. They move lower to the green fabric of my dress hugging my hips and thighs. He works his way down my legs, to my red-painted toes, before moving back up. The second his gaze snags on mine, I can feel the heat behind his eyes. The look is so sensual, so hot, I have a visceral reaction to it. He’s staring at me like he wants to devour me, and my skin burns hot at the thought of his mouth on my body. Kissing the space below my ear. Running his tongue along my collarbone then moving lower to my thighs. I blow out a breath and shift on my feet. My underwear is wet,...

“Think I could convince you and Lucy to come to a game?” “I’m not sure it would take much convincing. We’d love to come if the schedules lined up.” “We’ll plan something.” Hudson rubs his hand up my arm. “Gosh. You really are something else, Mads. A sight for sore eyes.” Funny. Looking at him makes me think my heart needs to be jumpstarted because he’s so beautiful. “You clean up well too, BB.” He steps closer to me. Our chests almost press together. “You’re having fun, right?” “I’m here with you.” I smile. “Of course I’m having fun. Are you?” “Yeah.” His fingers bunch my dress in their hold, and I let out at shallow breath. “This is the most fun I’ve had in a long, long time.”

She laughs and pulls out the trays one by one. “Stop being so damn impatient.” “They’re cookies,” I draw out. “How can you not be impatient?” Madeline picks one up off the pan and blows on it. She holds it my way, and her lips pull up into a coy smirk. “Want a taste, hockey guy?” Fuck, do I ever. “Yes.” I swallow. “Please.” She hums and brings the cookie to my mouth. I open my lips and she feeds me the bite, tossing me a full smile when I sigh. “What do you think?” I lick my lips and wrap my fingers around her wrist. Her breathing hitches when I tilt my head to the side and take the rest of the cookie in my mouth. My tongue brushes against the tip of her finger, and I swallow. I know I’m playing with fire, but for once, I don’t give a damn. “Delicious,” I say, and her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. “I’m glad you like it,” she answers. When she touches her thumb to the corner of my mouth to wipe away a crumb, I have to hold onto the counter. “I hope you’ll be around to open presents with us tomorrow.” “Would that be okay? I don’t want to take away from what y’all have planned.” “Lucy wants you there.” Her eyes meet mine, and her smile is soft. “And so do I.” “Then that’s where I’ll be.”

“Madeline,” I murmur. “Yeah?” she whispers. “Maybe we should kiss,” I tell her, not fully knowing what I’m saying. But those lips… and the corner of her mouth… “To see if it brings us good luck.” “You want to kiss me because you want good luck?” “Yeah. But I also want to kiss you because I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.” My eyes roam down the front of her shirt. I know she’s a woman with curves, but I’ve been careful never to look at her for too long. I’m looking at her now, though, and I marvel at the way the silk hugs her chest. How it fuels my imagination as I think about what her breasts might look like. I’m sure as shit headed to hell for wanting to take her in my mouth and show her anything but mediocre. Madeline’s movements are slow, tentative. She glances at the TV then back at me. “What else have you been thinking about?” “You,” I say. “In every way I shouldn’t want you. In every way I can’t have you.” The one-minute warning comes. Everything narrows down to her, and the careful way she puts a hand on my chest. How her fingers fan out over my shirt and she twists the cotton, pulling me toward her. As if I wouldn’t go willingly. As if I wouldn’t fucking crawl or run or climb a mountain to get there. With thirty seconds to go, her nose brushes against mine. Her exhale is hot against my cheek. I want to feel it against my neck and on my stomach while her lips trail lower down my body. Around my cock as she blinks up at me with a coy smile before taking me in he...

Hudson kissed me the other night, and it was the best kiss of my life. It was a full-body experience. Toe-curling. Heart-stopping. Goddamn magical. It was like he wanted to consume me. Like he wanted to possess me. And I haven’t stopped thinking about it. I close my eyes, and I see him. I take a shower, and I feel his hands on my body. I’ve replayed every intimate moment of that night over and over again in my head, in excruciating detail—the glide of his tongue, his fingers wrapped in my hair, and how I wish he would’ve pulled on the strands. Those few minutes with him were the most I’ve been turned on in years, and I hate that I had to be the one who stopped us from going any further.

“Hey,” I say when I get to the living room. He jerks his neck up and drops the squeaky ball he’s holding. When our eyes lock, I realize how much I’ve missed him. How I’ve come to love the time we spend together, and I bite my lip to hold back a wide smile at the sight of him.

“Haven’t seen you do your trick in a while,” he says. “Say please, hockey guy.” Hudson’s mouth curls into a wicked smirk. “Would you please show me your knife trick, Mads?” he asks, and it feels like he’s flirting with me. It feels like I like it. “With pleasure.” I grab the base of the knife and spin it between my fingers. The movement is perfected after years of handling the equipment, and I smile when I stab the board with the tip of the blade. “How’d I do?” “A goddamn ten out of ten. Nothing new there.

I unwrap the sourdough loaf I made the other day and cut off a few slices. “Hey, I was thinking… Can we talk about what happened on New Year’s?” “What happened on New Year’s?” “You already forgot?” He blushes. “Like I could forget that. I just wanted you to speak it into existence. We kissed, then you ran away from me. Did I do something wrong? Was it not good for you?” “It’s not that,” I say. “I told you it was⁠—” “Nice.” Hudson spins his hat backward and carefully cuts the tomato into thin slices with a smaller knife. I’m momentarily distracted by both movements. “I remember. I was there.”

“Is that what you want? To be friends?” Ten minutes ago, when I marched in here, I was certain it was. Now when I look at him, I’m not so sure. It would be so easy to pull him to me again. To press my mouth to his and spend longer learning what he likes, learning what it would take to get him to say my name again, but I can’t. It’s not about me. It’s about my job and the stability it’s bringing to Lucy’s life. I get to tuck her in every night. I get to help with homework and see her in the school’s talent show. I’m around for the big moments I missed when I was working around the clock in Vegas, and that’s more important than a second kiss or something more. “Yes,” I finally say. There’s a flash of disappointment across his face before it melts into a smile with a dimple and some eye wrinkles. Marvelously beautiful and marvelously not mine. “Then that’s what we’ll be. Friends,” he says. “And there are no hard feelings, Madeline. I’m a big boy. I can handle a kiss without it breaking my heart.” His hip bumps mine. “Don’t hide from me anymore, okay? I want to see you.” He is big, I think, and I blush a furious shade of red at the memory of how hard he was—thick and long, too—under me. The strain of his cock against my ass and how I desperately wished he slipped his fingers up my shirt. “I promise I won’t hide,” I say. “Good. I was starting to think I’m a terrible kisser.” Hudson laughs, and the noise fills the room. It fills a part of my soul, too. “Thanks for not damaging m...

AGGHH

“Worth finally coming out of your room?” Hudson asks, and I huff out an exasperated laugh. I grab the dish towel from his shoulder, roll it up, and flick it at him. He yelps and reaches for my arm. His fingers wrap around my wrist, and he takes the towel from me. “Take it back,” I say. “You’re fast, but not as fast as me, Maddie.” The nickname sends a shiver down my spine. We’re staring at each other, and his eyes bounce to my mouth. “Maybe I’m just trying to play fair,” I say. “I’m stooping to your level and holding back.” “Why? I can take it. I can take anything you give me.” His thumb moves up the inside of my wrist. It’s a slow drag, skin on skin contact, and I almost moan when he pulls away. “Friends, right?” “Friends,” I repeat, hating the damn word.

WHAT

We agreed to be friends. I know we said what happened on New Year’s isn’t going to happen again, but I wish it would. I wish I could knock on her door and join her on her bed. Hell, I’d be happy to stand in the hall and watch. I’d be happy to keep my hands to myself until she told me I could touch myself—could touch her. And if she let me join? I’d make it so good for her. I could be gentle. Rough. I could fuck her like I hated her or I could make love to her and kiss her soft and sweet. I’d get on my knees and beg, or I’d ask her to say please if that’s what she liked. I’d call her perfect. I’d tell her how well she was doing, how pretty she is when she’s taking two of my fingers then three. I would do anything she wanted.

IM GAGGED

His mouth curls into a grin. “I’m going to propose to her at the end of the season.” “You’re already married, dude. Drunk weddings in Vegas still count as legally binding commitments.” Their original nuptials might have been fueled by an excessive amount of tequila, but those two love each other. Liam doesn’t look at anyone the way he looks at Piper, and I’m glad they figured their shit out. I’m glad they realized their feelings, because they belong together. “I know they do, but I’m going to propose for real. With a real ring, down on one knee. I’ve been sure about her from the moment I met her, and I want to make it official.” “You’ve been sure about her even when she was married to someone else?” I ask, and he nods. “Yeah. I’ve never been patient about anything in my life, but with her? I’d wait a thousand years if I had to.” “Shit, man.” I clasp his shoulder and grin. “That’s awesome. I’m happy for you.”

I take a deep breath before starting to speak. “I want to learn sign language so I can communicate with Lucy. I want to be able to ask about her day and tell her about mine. I want to know what she’s saying to Madeline that makes her laugh so much. I want to be included, but more importantly, I want to include her in my conversations instead of talking around her. I should’ve started learning it sooner. I don’t know why I waited so long, but I⁠—” “Hudson.” Piper reaches for me. Her smile is bright when she wraps her fingers around mine. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” “Are we forgetting the time I tied my wedding ring to my skate?” Liam grumbles. “That was sweet.” “This isn’t about you.” She waves him off and turns back to me.

IM DEAD I LOVE HIM

“Why don’t you ask Madeline? Lucy’s school is under Gallaudet’s education umbrella. I’m sure she could point you in the right direction.” “I ah, don’t want to tell her,” I admit, and Piper frowns. “You don’t? Why not?” That’s the question I’ve been weighing since I first had this idea. It happened when I saw Lucy zone out of a conversation Madeline and I were having because she couldn’t communicate with me and I couldn’t communicate with her. The notepad and Etch A Sketch help us get by. They’re fine, a tool that works, but I don’t want Lucy to have to change her way of doing things for me. I should be the one making an effort. It seems dehumanizing. Like I’m talking to a piece of paper, not to her. I don’t get to see the way her eyes light up when she’s sharing something that made her happy. I don’t get to see her smile when she asks if she can bring the dogs in for show-and-tell because I’m too busy flipping to a new page and jotting something down. By the time I look up, the moment is gone. I know Madeline would be happy to teach me, but she’s always doing things for other people. She deserves to have someone show up and do something for her. Not because she asked, but because they want to. And I want to. “I want it to be a surprise,” I finally say, and I’m glad when Piper doesn’t press me any further.

“Really? You’d give up some of your evening for me?” “Oh, Hudson. You don’t get it, do you?” “Get what?” I ask, confused. “You’ve done so much for me. For the team. For Liam. For us. You organize volunteer hours for the guys. You stop to sign autographs for anyone who hands you a piece of gear. After our accidental wedding in Vegas last New Year’s, your level-headedness kept us both calm. I know we’re where we are today because of your ability to get us to communicate,” she says, blushing. “You’re so selfless, all the time. Helping you with something you’re clearly passionate about isn’t a chore. It’s something I’d be glad to do. You’re a good man with a kind heart, and if learning sign language is what you want to do, I’m honored to play a small role in it.” Piper makes me sound like a hero, when, really, I’m just treating people how I’d want to be treated. The right way to be treated, and that boils over to Madeline and Lucy too. “Shucks, Little P.” I grin at her. “You’re too good to me.” “Fuck me, I guess,” Liam grunts. “It’s like I’m not even here.” “Calm down, you jealous oaf.” Piper pushes back her chair and claps. “Food, then we’ll get to work. You’re going to be an expert in no time, Huddy.”

I love Liam

Emmy Try to get there early. You don’t want to miss the warmups. Maven They’re the best part of the game. Piper You’re so right. Last night, I watched a video some girl on social media put together of Liam stretching. I was almost jealous, but then I remembered I get to climb into bed with him every night. So climb I did.

Ethan said this is a bad book and that whatever Ethan says is true :)

Me Wow. Are all of you having regular sex? Piper Yup. Emmy Sure am. Lexi If men can fuck whoever they want, so can I. Me My celibate ass can’t wait to see you all tonight. Emmy I’m mad I’m in Texas. Maven And I’m mad I’m at a soccer tournament. Not really. I love watching my kid play. Me That’s so sweet. Lexi I’m jealous I’m NOT in Texas. The state where everything is bigger? Sign me up.

She's funny

“I see why you girls told me not to miss the stretching. It’s almost pornographic,” I say. “Look at Liam.” Piper grins and points at the goalie with the hand not holding her microphone. He’s in a full split in front of the net, and my mouth drops open. “His flexibility is also fun off the ice.” “I’ve never been able to stretch like that, and he’s doing it in pads and a helmet. And the rest of them? It’s like free entertainment.” My eyes wander over to Maverick and Hudson. They’re both on their knees with their legs spread, and they’re almost thrusting into the ice. I’m sure there’s a physical benefit to the move they’re doing—something that makes some sort of muscle limber and warm—but it’s indecent enough to take me back to the last time I got off with my vibrator. I thought about Hudson that night. I’m thinking about him every night I touch myself lately. I pictured the toy as his fingers as I circled my clit, and when I fell apart on the silicone—over the span of three separate orgasms—it was a feat not to yell out his name. Watching him stretch is giving me a new visual: us on a bed. Him holding himself above me as he slowly rocks his hips, burying himself inside me. The hint of a smirk when he asks how much I like being his friend.

The warmups are the best part of the hockey game :))

As tall as the ceiling! she says, and I laugh. “Are you two talking about me?” he yells. “She said you’re so big,” I tell him. “And you are. Even more so with all those layers on. You could take a bullet to the chest and not feel a damn thing, couldn’t you?” “It’s like Fort Knox over here.” He lifts up his jersey to show off the gear I’m not familiar with, but I’m distracted by a bead of sweat dripping down his stomach. “Hey.” He knocks his stick against the glass again, and I jump. “My eyes are up here, Galloway.” I blush. I can’t believe he caught me staring. I can’t believe I was staring in the first place. “I thought I saw a bug,” I say. “Nice save.” He lifts his chin. “Whose jersey are you wearing?” “Oh. Um. Riley’s?” I turn so he can see the name on the back. “Lexi grabbed it for me. I don’t own any Stars gear, and there weren’t many options in the team store.” “Interesting.” His eyes blaze with heat when I look at him over my shoulder. “Guess I’m going to have to make a call to our merchandise folks. Enjoy the game, Mads.” With a wink, he skates away from us to join his teammates lining up. When he pulls up next to Maverick, takes off his helmet and looks back at me, there are butterflies in my stomach.

Girl. He better get it tonight.

As tall as the ceiling! she says, and I laugh. “Are you two talking about me?” he yells. “She said you’re so big,” I tell him. “And you are. Even more so with all those layers on. You could take a bullet to the chest and not feel a damn thing, couldn’t you?” “It’s like Fort Knox over here.” He lifts up his jersey to show off the gear I’m not familiar with, but I’m distracted by a bead of sweat dripping down his stomach. “Hey.” He knocks his stick against the glass again, and I jump. “My eyes are up here, Galloway.” I blush. I can’t believe he caught me staring. I can’t believe I was staring in the first place. “I thought I saw a bug,” I say. “Nice save.” He lifts his chin. “Whose jersey are you wearing?” “Oh. Um. Riley’s?” I turn so he can see the name on the back. “Lexi grabbed it for me. I don’t own any Stars gear, and there weren’t many options in the team store.” “Interesting.” His eyes blaze with heat when I look at him over my shoulder. “Guess I’m going to have to make a call to our merchandise folks. Enjoy the game, Mads.” With a wink, he skates away from us to join his teammates lining up. When he pulls up next to Maverick, takes off his helmet and looks back at me, there are butterflies in my stomach.

AGHHHH

I’m all for appreciating a man’s body. They’ve been gawking at women for decades, and we deserve to be the ones doing the eye-fucking for a change, but I draw the line at their offhanded comments. There’s a sour taste on my tongue when they say things like he’s a fine piece of ass and if he knocked me up, I’d force him into letting me keep the baby, and I do my best to not let them ruin our night.

Oh! So let's not

The crowd cheers, and the Hudson Hayes fan club almost loses their minds when he skates over and tries to toss one of his gloves to Lucy. One of the women snatches it out of the air and clutches it to her chest. He frowns, disappointed. “Hey,” he yells. “That was for the kid behind you.” “Oops.” She giggles. “Finder’s keepers.”

Little hoe bag

“My spectating grade?” I laugh. “What are you judging me on? How loud I yelled?” “That’s one of the criteria. I saw you cheering, so you get an A for enthusiasm.” “I’ve always been a good student.” He scoots back in his chair and stands. He walks around the corner of the island until he’s close to me. “You failed in one area, though.” “Oh?” I lift an eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me how I can improve for next time?” “Turn around,” he says in a low voice. My feet move in a small circle until my back is to him. Until I can’t see him but can only hear him, and I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know where this is going, but I want to find out. “We’re friends, right?” I squeeze my thighs together. My breath gets stuck in my throat. There’s nothing friendly about the thoughts I’m currently having, but I nod anyway. “We are.” “Next time you come to a game, don’t show up in someone else’s jersey.” His fingers trace the outline of the letters spanning across my shoulders. They dance down my spine, and my eyes flutter closed. “I’ll buy you a hundred jerseys with my name on them so you never run out.” “And if I don’t want to wear your jersey?” I ask with a hint of defiance. He brushes a strand of hair away from my neck so he can whisper in my ear. He’s not touching me, but it feels like he is. “I might be nice, Madeline, but I can also be very persuasive.” My heart nearly flatlines at the insinuation behind his words. I should be pushing him away, but I don’t want to. “Okay,” I...

“Time for a vote on the spicy scenes.” Maverick grabs a pen and paper from Riley’s coffee table. “Who would be down to be the one blindfolded and have their hands tied up?” I cough and reluctantly raise my hand in the air. My embarrassment lessens when Riley joins me, and the boys all cheer for us. “Huddy’s been watching the ‘Juno’ positions.” Grant lifts his arms above his head and drops them against the wall behind him. “Have you ever tried this one?” “Very funny.” I throw a pillow at him and laugh when it hits Ethan instead.

Yes.

“You’re headed to New York for All-Star weekend, right?” “Yeah. Em is giving a speech at the PWHL luncheon on Friday afternoon. On Saturday, she and Amelia Green, the associate coach for Denver, are hosting a clinic for a group of girls at Madison Square Garden before the skills challenge starts.” Maverick grins. “I’m so fucking proud of her.” “She’s an icon, isn’t she?” I laugh. “Funny how things change. Remember when you thought she was a dude from Michigan because you didn’t research who she was before meeting her?” “I’d take our first meeting back if I could. I hate that she ever thought I doubted her abilities as an NHL player when she’s out here proving herself time and time again.” “She knows you respect her. We all do.”

“Shut up.” I elbow his ribs and he shoves me away. “We’re good. Did I tell you I’m learning sign language?” “No shit. Really?” “Yeah. I want to be able to communicate with Lucy. I’ve been working with a student at Gallaudet University twice a week. Feels like the bare minimum, you know?”

BARE MINIMUM?!?

It’s fear and jealousy. Jealousy that they have someone to come home to. Fear I’ll never find it. Jealousy they have someone who cares about their day. Fear I’ll be left. Again. I already had a parent leave me. Girlfriends have walked away from the relationships we’ve had just as it was starting to mean something. What’s next? Spending the rest of my life by myself and missing out on what everyone else gets to have? That sounds really fucking sad.

My poor huddy :(

“Hey.” Maverick puts his arm around my shoulder. “You’re a catch, Huddy. Your person is out there, and you want to know the wildest fucking thing?” I huff. My breath comes out like a wisp of smoke, and I can’t wait to hear. “What?” “She’s trying to get to you right now. It’s just taking her a little while. Traffic, you know?” “Wow. That might be the deepest thing you’ve ever said, Mav.” “Want me to follow it up with a sex joke?” “Quit while you’re ahead, dude.” He laughs. “Fine. Look. I know being patient sucks, but it’s going to pay off in the end. I promise.” “You’re right,” I relent. “Holy shit. Say that again, Huddy. It’s music to my ears.”

I can’t imagine the pain they must be feeling, and saying hang in there sounds really fucking insensitive. I hated when people told me that after Mom passed, and sometimes hearing nothing was a hell of a lot easier to listen to than forced sympathy. I remember the days when I couldn’t leave my bed. Maverick would come to my apartment, sit next to me on the comforter, and not say a word. He’d stay there for hours, only moving to bring me a bowl of soup that he hand-fed me so I could put something in my body. “I’m… I’m not fine, but I’m hanging in there, you know? Being here with you all helps. Doing stuff like going to All-Star weekend helps. Just trying to stay positive,” he mumbles. “I’m here,” I say. “No judgment. No questions asked. For anything.” “I know.” He smiles my way. “And I’m glad.”

Madeline Are you on your way home? Me I’m downstairs, actually. Be up in a second. Madeline See you soon, BB. I laugh and click off my phone. That pain in my chest loosens with every floor the elevator climbs. When I open the door and slip inside, finding the four of them exactly where I thought they’d be, it goes away entirely. Home.

With no one around to see my royal fuckups and how massively I’ve failed today, I lose it. I put my hands on the counter—right in the sauce I’ve been trying to clean up for ten minutes but keep getting distracted from because of other things—and start to cry. My shoulders shake. I drop my head back. I stare at the ceiling, and the cries turn into a ragged, ugly sob. It feels good to get this out—to break down and not be perfect for a minute. I could wallow here the rest of the night. “Madeline?” Hudson asks, startling me. I lose my footing on the water Lucy spilled on the floor when I tried to get her a snack earlier, but he moves faster. He’s there to catch me with an arm around my waist. A hand at the small of my back, steadying me against crashing waves. “What’s going on?” I sniff. “It’s been a day.” He looks around at the war zone that used to resemble his kitchen. “How can I help?” That makes me cry even more. “I don’t know.” “Are you hurt?” “No.” “Is Lucy hurt?” “No. She had a horrible day at school, and it carried over all afternoon. I missed your text earlier, so I’m behind on dinner. The dogs haven’t eaten. I didn’t get a chance to clean up from breakfast or lunch. The onions are burnt, but I should be able to throw the rest of the meal together in a few minutes. And I’ll light a candle to get rid of the smell.” “No.” “No? “No.” Hudson reaches behind me and turns off the stove. He rubs his hands down my arms, and it’s amazing how much better I feel when he touches...

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever bought me flowers.” “Ever? Not even⁠—” “Not that I can remember. They’re beautiful. Roses are my favorite. Cliché, I know. But I don’t care.” “I’m glad you like them. I know they don’t fix the things that didn’t go right today. They don’t solve the problems, but they don’t make anything worse.” “I like that sentiment.” I lean against the door frame. “You got Lucy to calm down? And you cleaned the kitchen? Are you a miracle worker, Bombshell?” His blush deepens, cheeks bright pink. “Hardly. It took us a minute. Several minutes, actually. I sat with her and let her cry. When she wore herself out, I asked if she wanted to help me with something. We made cleaning the kitchen a game. After, we went and got some fresh air on a walk to the grocery store up the road. Bringing the dogs helped, too. You know she loves Gus and Millie.” There’s a thrumming behind my ribs the more he talks. It’s not painful, but something wonderful: a steady, soothing warmth. I’ve never experienced it before, and it moves all over my body, from my spine to my toes. I blink. When Hudson hands the doll he’s holding over to Lucy and gives her a smile, the understanding hits me like a ton of bricks. How I missed it before, I don’t know, because it’s so stupidly obvious. I have a crush on Hudson Hayes. An alarmingly real, alarmingly serious crush, where just being around him makes everything better. I can breathe easier. I can think clearer. The night has totally turned around...

GURL FINALLYYYY TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH

Madeline is beautiful when she smiles. She’s beautiful all the time, but seeing her and Lucy laugh through dinner makes my brain do this stupid thing where it pretends there’s a world out there where she likes me as much as I like her. And, fuck, do I like her.

She’s ingrained on my soul, and life is too short to not tell the people you care about exactly how you feel.

Her lips pull up into a grin. She lifts her chin, a dare there, before she says, “Fuck it,” and crashes her mouth against mine.

AGH YES GAWDD

I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. I want her again in an hour and in a month down the road. I want her body and her soul, and I’d get on my knees and beg until I had them.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Madeline. Please be gentle when you kill me.”

He's literally a poet

I wrap my fingers around the hem of her shorts, dragging them over her knees. I toss them at the wall then move my thumbs up her thighs. She puts her feet on the sheets and opens her legs wider. For me. Fuck.

“So fucking gorgeous. Are you a two-for-one girl, Maddie?” I touch her clit with my knuckles, and she unravels again. “Fuck. You are. Let me get one more taste, sweetheart.” “Please,” she almost sobs. “I’ve never⁠—” “With me you will.”

Hudson laughs again, and the sound is like coming home. A Sunday morning in bed and warm coffee when it’s cold outside.