Page 44 of The Wedding Fake
She led us into the house through a side door, choosing the stairs that disappeared into the basement rather than the set that would lead back upstairs. I wasn’t sure where Claire was leading us, but I followed her without question until we stood in the center of a gray storage area. “What’s up?” I asked, glancing around at the shelves of empty jars and abandoned small appliances.
Claire’s answer was not what I expected. I was expecting her to want to have some private conversation—something she didn’t want anyone to overhear—but instead she launched herself at me. I caught her easily, one arm looping around her waist to hold her tightly to my body and the other sliding into the hair at the back of her neck. Her tongue slipped between my lips, tangling with mine, and all the thoughts were gone from my head except Claire. Claire’s lips on mine, her skin under my fingertips, the press of her body.
And yet, faintly, I was sure I should be thinking about other things. Namely that this was not normal behavior from what I knew of her. “Claire,” I whispered between kisses, but rather than give her pause she pressed harder against me. It was a move that blanked my mind, leaving only need for her. She overwhelmed my senses, and yet I couldn’t get enough. I tightened my grip on her, angling her head so I could deepen the kiss.
Her hands trailed down my body until they reached my pants button, and my hips jerked toward her touch. “Fuck,” I muttered, yanking back out of her reach. “Claire!” I was hanging on by a thread, and the name came out as a frantic whisper.
“Hud.” The single word was a low, raspy plea, and as her hands dropped to my fly again, it was impossible to remember why I would want to stop this from happening. But I knew I did, so I captured both her wrists in my hand, looking down at her with frustration written in every one of my features.
Perhaps she was batshit crazy and I was only getting a first taste. I let out a deep sigh before I spoke, looking for the right words. “I’m not really sure what to think about this.”
She shook her head, her lips turned down in a frown. “You don’t understand this?” She attempted to gesture between us, but I still held both her wrists. The implication was clear though—she was offering something physical. “Whatever. If you’re not interest?—”
The fingers of my free hand fell on her lips, cutting her off. “Stop. You know I’m interested in you, Claire.”
I inhaled deeply and then let it out again, stifling the Neanderthal urge to claim her right here in the Dupree’s basement. “I don’t understand where your head is at. Last I knew, you didn’t want…” Me. I didn’t want to say that last word, and I stumbled around for a replacement that would encompass more than the sex Claire seemed to be offering, but nothing came to mind. “You didn’t want this.”
Her lips twitched and I realized my fingers still rested on them, keeping her quiet. I let them slide away, watching the pliant flesh bend under my touch before popping back into place. I swayed toward her, overcome by the urge to kiss her, then caught myself and straightened.
“The videos—they caught me off guard, but I’ve had time to think and I’ve realized we want the same thing, Hudson.”
As the days progressed, I had grown increasingly terrified that what I wanted with Claire was everything, but that wasn’t what she was suggesting, and her lack of reciprocation stung more than I cared to admit. “To get through the week without your mother poisoning me?” I joked, using the deflection to hide my disappointment.
Her lips curled into the smile she had been trying to suppress. “No,” she replied. “That’s not what I meant.”
Claire was offering no-strings sex, I knew, despite the fact that Claire had probably never previously engaged in no-strings sex. Hell, she hadn’t even said the word “sex” yet, a sure sign she was not the kind of girl who could pull off a no-strings arrangement.
My first impulse was to say no. After all, this was the first time I could remember feeling attraction like this—attraction that went beyond the physical. I’d agreed to come up here as her fake date because I couldn’t stop thinking about her, and those thoughts went so far beyond sleeping with her. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
And then the thought occurred to me—knowing Claire wasn’t the type to do no-strings wasn’t a reason to turn her down, it was a reason to say yes. If I turned her down right now, she wouldn’t grow to trust me. That ship had sailed the moment her sister had shown her the videos. But maybe—maybe—if I agreed to stop fantasizing about forever and started pretending this was a temporary relationship—maybe she’d see what I saw. Maybe she’d have as hard a time walking away as I feared I would.
Letting go of the hold I’d kept on her hands, I leaned forward, pulling her close and capturing her lips for a kiss that wasn’t nearly long enough. “Are you sure, Claire?” I asked seriously as our lips parted and my head leaned against hers. It was an intimate pose, sharing each other’s air, and it made me remember the moment I’d done the same in the elevator. Claire didn’t move to put any space between us.
“I am,” she said. “I want this.”
“Me too,” I agreed, although I actually wanted this and a lot more. I drew back, linking my hand in hers. We’d been gone too long already. “Can I ask you something?” I asked, beginning to walk back to the stairs.
“Sure,” she said, although her hesitant tone said otherwise.
“What made you change your mind about me?” I asked.
“I didn’t,” she replied. “I changed my mind about me.”
22
CLAIRE
The truth of those words startled me. Dan and I had broken up more than a year ago, and yet the relationship still loomed large in my mind, impacting my life in ways I didn’t even realize.
I’d been naive with Dan, sure, but I didn’t have to be with Hudson. I could walk into this relationship with clear eyes, knowing it was only meant to last for a few amazing days. I could drink my fill of him like some healing elixir, and then move on a stronger woman. Hudson wasn’t a risk. He was a chance to turn my back on all that hurt and anger and humiliation.
“Fuck,” Hudson murmured. I looked behind me, where Hudson had been trailing by a couple steps.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
Hudson took the two stairs in a single long stride, crowding me on our shared step. He grinned down at me, hooking a single finger in the belt loop of my jeans. “You look phenomenal in these jeans, babe, and I can’t believe I just passed up the chance to take them off you.” I smiled wryly, and he chuckled. “One more kiss before I resume pretending to enjoy Ethan and Grant’s company?”
I inhaled deeply, letting my eyes flutter closed as he leaned in to capture my lips, his hands finding their way up until one held my face tilted up to him and the other brushed back my hair.