Page 46 of The Wedding Fake
Emily, Tessa, and I joined the small circle of men with Alexandra, and Hud shifted closer to me, threading his fingers through mine. Those fingers were long and thick and gloriously masculine, and I promised myself I’d make time to really look at them later.
I glanced up at his face, noticing the way the sunlight lit his dark eyes, and thought there was entirely too much Hudson to see in the few days we had left. If I were smart, I’d bail on this party and drag him back to my childhood bedroom this very instant.
Hudson glanced in my direction, cocking an eyebrow at me and smiling jauntily. I pressed my lips between my teeth, suppressing a girlish giggle, but unable to hide my goofy smile.
“Tonight was…” Hudson trailed off, and I glanced in his direction, curious to hear the whole thought. “Uneventful.”
My brow knit as my eyes returned to the road and I made a right turn that led us away from my parents' home. I figured if we were going to have an uncomfortable conversation where Hudson rethought the one-night stand idea, it would be better to have it in a car, where eye contact wouldn’t be necessary. If Hudson noticed the wrong turn, he said nothing. “What do you mean?” I asked, keeping my voice even.
He set a hand on my thigh, and I nearly gasped at the warmth of his touch through my pants. “I half expected your mom to have you and Grant decorate a Christmas tree together.”
“It’s August,” I replied, perplexed.
Hudson chuckled. “I know, but isn’t that what meddling mothers do in Lifetime movies?”
This time I laughed, the feeling light and airy as I realized he wasn’t reconsidering. He was holding my thigh and cracking jokes. “Only in the Christmas ones, I’m pretty sure. You find yourself watching a lot of Lifetime movies?” I asked, a grin still playing on my lips as I snuck a glance in his direction.
Hudson shrugged, his eyes narrowing as the car approached a stop sign and he looked out the window. “My mother and sister like them, so I’ve seen my share. Don’t your parents live that way?” he asked, pointing left.
“This is the back way. It’s faster,” I lied smoothly, making the turn as if it’d been my intention.
He hummed thoughtfully, his fingers sliding around my thigh and settling between my legs. They lay too close to my knee to be overtly sexual, and yet my neglected body lit up like he’d found every erogenous zone all at once. “I rather hoped you were finding some secluded spot for us,” he replied with a chuckle.
I wished with every fiber of my being I had been one of those cool kids who’d known where good secluded spots were in Bridgeport. Unfortunately, I knew of none. “I don’t know any secluded spots,” I admitted, and Hudson laughed.
“Wouldn’t expect you to, Claire,” he said, and seeing my frown added, “I don’t know of any places in Cranberry Falls either, or I’d be telling you to take another right and drive there.”
I laughed at the absolute absurdity of the situation. Here I was, on a date (of sorts) with a man who had an empty apartment a single floor above my empty apartment, and somehow I was stuck trying to have a one-night stand with him in my childhood bedroom surrounded by meddlesome, disapproving family. Hudson laughed in reply, glancing my way as I made the final left turn toward my parents’ house. His smiling face was warm and open, and I wished I had a picture to remember the moment.
Shit. Thoughts like that are a fast track to feelings, I scolded myself, my eyes darting back toward the road as I reached my parents’ block and pulled up to the curb in front of their house. As I’d expected, Emily’s car was alone in the driveway.
We’d taken Emily’s exit as a sign it was acceptable to leave the barbecue after dessert was served, but Mom, Dad, and Tess had still been chatting away.
Hudson unclicked his seatbelt, but I hesitated. It was 8:23. The sun was still up. There was no way I could claim to be ready for bed, and yet the idea of sitting down and watching my parents' DVR list with Hudson horrified me. Perhaps I should’ve thought of this before I’d said my goodbyes at the Duprees.
“Claire?” Hudson asked, and the single syllable sounded so delicious when it came from his lips.
I should lie, but I was particularly terrible at lying. I’d tried to lie about dating someone and here I was, 200 miles away from home, preparing to sleep with my fake boyfriend. “It seems very weird to go up to bed before the sun sets, but it would also be awkward to go inside and, like, watch TV with you,” I said, which was the complete and embarrassing truth.
Hudson shifted in his seat until he faced me as best as the seat would allow. “Let me guess…Your favorite show is…Jeopardy.”
“My favorite show is Chicago Fire,” I replied honestly before I could reconsider being so honest. And then, since I’d already said it, I added, “But I also like Chicago Med and Chicago PD.”
Hudson rolled his lips between his teeth, barely concealing laughter, and I blushed. “We could go watch an episode. I’ve never seen it. You can tell me what you like about it,” he offered.
What I liked about it was mostly Taylor Kinney, particularly shirtless, but I had at least enough sense not to blurt that out. “I don’t think you’ll enjoy it.” I paused, not idiotic enough to consider sharing a show in which firefighters were in constant peril with Hudson, but also not looking to shut down the whole idea. “Is there something you watch?” I prepared myself to say yes to watching anything, no matter how loathsome, because I had the feeling this moment mattered. It shouldn’t, I reminded myself. You didn’t need television compatibility with a one-night stand, and yet the yes was on my lips, ready to agree to golf or bowling or even black-and-white westerns.
“I usually enjoy documentaries on Netflix,” he suggested.
“Yes,” I replied quickly, then cocked my head as the words permeated my nervous brain and I realized he’d actually suggested something good. “Yes,” I repeated, genuine this time. “I like those, too.” He beamed at me, a smile powerful enough to knock the panties right off anyone in its path, and I rethought the wisdom of watching TV together. I was pretty sure I would never forgive myself if one more thing got in the way of Hudson’s naked body pressing between my thighs. Thighs I was now clenching together. “Have you seen The Tinder Swindler?”
His eyes widened in excitement, a very adorable look for such a sexy man. “No. I heard about it, but never got around to watching it. Have you seen it? Is it good?”
I’d always been seventy percent too scared and thirty percent too self-conscious to use a dating app, but I didn’t know of any single women my age who hadn’t seen The Tinder Swindler. It was mandatory viewing in this demographic. “It’s really good.”
“Alright, Tinder Swindler and then, when we’re tired, we’ll head up to bed.”
“Or before we’re too tired,” I suggested, a statement that could’ve been sexy or coy, but probably came off as neither since I was only verifying our existing plans. I rolled my lips between my teeth, wishing I could be less awkward.