Cockney:A Stepbrother Romance(56)

     



 



Ten minutes after, I've calmed myself a little more, but I'm biting my  lip nervously as I start to wonder about what comes next. I mean am I  really going to do this with him? I mean it's not like I'm a virgin or  anything; well, not technically at least. That dubious technicality  involves a spectacularly brief encounter with my date to senior prom.  But this is Hudson we're talking about; Hudson with the dangerously  charming smile, Hudson with the practically legendary history of women  trailing after him. I've been drinking, but I'm hardly drunk anymore;  maybe from that kiss, but not from wine. But I'm worried now that there  was a boldness and a confidence in me that I'm not used to when I pretty  much dragged him up here, and now I'm starting to wonder how much  longer that boldness is going to last me without his lips on mine.



Fifteen minutes after he went inside, I decide I can't just stand here  out on the terrace tapping my feet, so I find myself walking back into  the house. He's not in Quinn's room, not where I told him to look for  condoms, and he's not in mine, where I'm secretly hoping to find him  waiting for me. Walking back downstairs is like slowly re-immersing  myself into reality, as the shadowy murmuring sounds of family and  mourners sucks me back into the now. I'm scanning the room for him,  thinking maybe he got drawn back down for some sort of emergency or to  help someone, but I'm still not seeing him.



His back is to me, and he's standing with a bunch of other suits in  corner of the foyer, and I'm about to go up and tap him on the shoulder  when I hear it, and the floor just drops out from under me; "..A girl  like that is just another place to get your dick wet."



It's his voice; the same man who just kissed me with a passion I never  knew existed in the world, and who told me he'd be right back is now  telling a bunch of his buddies that he fucked me. I'm backing away  slowly, realizing that the pain inside my chest is the feeling of my  heart just breaking.



"Reagan, I'm so sorry for your loss."



I turn quickly to the woman I've never met before who probably worked  for my father - someone else who probably knew him better than I did -  and nod quickly; "Uh, thanks."



"He was a great man." She looks at me plaintively, shaking her head and pursing her lips.



"M-hmm." When I look back, he's gone, and I can feel the shattered  pieces inside of me tumbling to the floor. I turn back to the women  talking to me about my father, and it's then that I see him. It's right  then, surrounded by the mourners and shadows and memories of my father,  that I see the Hudson Banks - the man that just broke my heart -  shuffling out the front door with the pretty blonde girl hanging off his  arm and giggling at something he's saying. He's nodding quickly at the  valet out front and helping the drunk-looking bimbo into the passenger  seat of his car before he turns quickly, his eyes darting over the crowd  quickly as if trying to make sure he'd not caught making this escape  like this. He doesn't see me - which is good because if we'd locked eyes  in that moment, I'd have broken entirely - before he takes a quick  breath, his face looking dark, and slides into the car. And then he's  roaring away, dust kicking up behind the car with the screaming giggle  of her voice trailing out the window.



And then he's gone.



There's a sting; something piercing deep inside that threatens to take  me to my knees right here as I realize what a complete fool I've been.  And in that moment, I'm not even sure I'm mad at him; I'm mad at myself.  I'm mad at being the silly little stupid girl I never wanted to be. I'm  mad at letting my convictions and my armor and my sensibilities drop  for just a second; only realizing now that it was just enough to get  hurt.



The tears start to come then, and another person I don't know is hugging  me and telling me how it's all going to be ok. And with this stranger's  arms around me, I realize how awful I am that I'm standing there  shedding tears over some bullshit crush on some bullshit shadow of a man  named Hudson instead of my father, who I should be crying over.



And then I'm tearing away and pushing my through the crowd, back up the  stairs, past the Goddamn library and the terrace, and down to my room.  I'm under the covers, my face pressed tight to my pillow as I sob; for  my father, for me, for the pain of growing up and the bitterness of  life.





P R E S E N T



"Hudson!" I'm stomping up the staircase to the second floor, chasing him as he storms down the hallway



"Goddamnit, Hudson where-"



"Go back, Reagan." He's in the upstairs library, pushing open the double  doors to the terrace where that kiss happened all those years before;  back to the scene of the crime. I tense myself and tighten my jaw as I  stand staring at the double doors across the room where he's just gone  through, feeling the licking tendrils of the shivering cold teasing  through the crack where he's left them not quite closed. I storm across  the room, fling them open and step out into the chilly night; determined  to corner him here.



"What the fuck was that back there?"



He turns, his face looking tight and tense and his sharp blue eyes  blazing liquid fire as they stare at me; "It's nothing, Reagan; just  leave it. Oh and say hi to Chet for me."



I stare at him, feeling my own flame begin to churn inside of me; "You're jealous? Of Chet?"



"Of course I'm fucking jealous." He growls it quietly, before he starts to stalk past me back into the house.



"You know it wasn't just that you rejected me and made me feel like a  complete idiot." My mouth spits the words out before my brain can stop  me, and he freezes in the doorway.



He whirls around, his eyes blazing that steely blue fire as he looks right into mine.



"It wasn't just that you humiliated me, Hudson; after you led me on like  that." I take a shaky breath, realizing I'm about to say everything  I've been wanting to tell him for five years; "I was young-"



"So was I-"



"You knew better!" The pained look in his eyes says it all, but I just  can't stop; "And you just left me there!" I can feel the tears begin to  well up, hot and stinging my eyes as my heart races in my chest.



"I was a mess, Reagan," He says gruffly, a tightness to his voice; "I was broken and I didn't want you to get dragged into my-"



"You know what Hudson? Fuck you- it's not that!" I'm desperately trying  to keep it together and not let myself fly off the handle, but it feels  like the whole stupid thing is about to give way. I feel my throat  tighten, catching my breath in my throat; "It's not even that you wound  me up and left me feeling like a stupid little girl-". My chest burns  and my eyes sting as I glare at him, standing there with his smoldering  gaze just burning into me; "I mean what was the point of pretending you  even liked me like that for all that time Hudson?" I'm crying now and  telling him this, and basically doing everything I don't do as I just  spill everything; "What was the point of making me feel like I was  special or like you even wanted me?"



"Jesus, Reagan, because I-"



"I saw you!" Tears are rolling down my cheeks, fueled by the memory of  him driving away all those years before; "I fucking saw you leaving with  that girl, OK?" My breath hitches as I try and fight the tears; "And  after nothing even happened with us, you went off and gloated to  everyone that you fucked the boss's daughter anyways!"



His face crumbles into a frown; "Reagan, what the fuck are you talking abou-"



" ‘A girl like that is just another place to get your dick wet', right  Hudson? That's what you fucking said, right?" Hudson's face is tight and  his eyes are flashing fire at me he takes a step forward and reaches  for me, but I rip my arm away and turn away from him; "No, forget this,  and fuck you, Hudson; fuck this whole thing, just leave me alo-"



He grabs me, his grip tight on my arm, and I gasp as I feel him pull me  around and yank me against his chest; "Will you listen to me!" He  growls.



I can feel my heart leap into my throat as he holds me tight against  him, and I fall right into those eyes as the smell of him and the feel  of his hands on my skin just draw me right in. "Don't touch me!" But I  know my fight is gone the second I find myself in his arms, and I'm not  stopping him.



He shoves me back against the ivy-covered wall behind me, his body so  close to mine that I can feel his heat; "I gave that girl a ride home  because she was wasted, and her boyfriend was being an asshole."



"Oh, please; fucking save me the bullshit Hudso-"



"Logan." He growls out; "Logan was her boyfriend. They fought, she was  drunk, and I was going back to New York anyways; that's why she was in  my car."



His eyes pierce into me, and I'm trying to fight the cooling effect  they're having on my temper because I need to be mad; I need to scream  at him and tell him I hate him because if I don't I'll explode. "You-  you told that group of guys that we-!"