Cockney:A Stepbrother Romance(61)

     



 



He stirs in the bed suddenly as he begins to wake up, and for some  bizarre reason I'm suddenly keenly aware and awkward about the fact that  I'm standing there naked, despite what happened the previous night. I  grab the first thing I see - his dress shirt - and throw it on; quickly  buttoning it as he opens his eyes and starts to sit up in bed.



"Morning," He grins at me, blinking sleep from his eyes. God he looks  incredible sitting in my bed like that; so peaceful, so naked, and so - I  flush - so hard. He arches a brow at me and then smirks as he nods to  the sizable tent in the sheet in his lap; "You know, as good as you look  right now in that shirt, I think you should probably take it off and  come back to bed, darlin." And for a moment, doing just that sounds like  the most amazing thing in the world.



 … That is, until there's a startling knock on my door and Erika's  chipper, annoying voice hollering through about the interview I need to  to be ready to leave for in thirty minutes. And just like that, the  fantasy of curling up with Hudson and letting the world just float away  without us is shattered as the very real reality hits me like a ton of  bricks.



"You need to get out of here!" I hiss at him, feeling panicked as I throw his pants at him.



His grin falters as his brow furrows; "Relax, Rea-"



"I can't relax, Hudson; don't fucking tell me to rela-"



"Reagan, it's just one fucking interview for what, some stupid NYU  school paper?" He's sitting up on the edge of the bed while I run around  the room like a crazy person trying to hide the signs of the previous  night as I yank on my black dress pants and hunt around for a clean  blouse; "Look just skip it."



I whirl on him, feeling furious that he's just sitting there while I'm  in panic mode; "Because that would be stupid and a big mistake."



He rolls his eyes; "Oh, please, a big mista-"



"Kind of like last night."



He freezes, his eyes narrowing at me as a shadow passes over his face. I  cringe, instantly feeling like a total crazy bitch for letting it slip  out like that; "Shit, Hudson, I didn't mean it like-"



"No, forget it, you're right." He's up and yanking his pants on with his  back to me, and my heart drops as I realize the fantasy veil of last  night has completed dropped and we're standing in the naked reality of  today.



"Mistakes happen, right?" He shrugs and flashes a thin smile at me, and right there I see his armor go right back up.



"You should get to that interview, I'll- I need to-" He's at the door,  opening it slowly as he peaks out and checks the hallway; "I've got some  shit to do anyways." He turns and looks at me coo;ly; "Don't worry,  we'll pretend this whole little mistake never happened."



And just like that, he's slamming the door behind him and slamming the chapter shut on whatever happened last night.



Fuck.



*****



I subtly peep under the table at the phone I've ever-so-secretly slipped  out of my purse. There are plenty of messages of course, but I frown  when I see that his number isn't among them. Part of me hoped he'd still  just show up at my first interview today, but he never did.



"Oh, stop it, Ray!"



I glance up, trying to look as innocent as possible as Quinn glares at  me from across the diner table, even though I know she's busted me;  "What?" Leave it to family to totally burst your bubble on feeling  subtle or sneaky.



"We said no phones! That's what!"



I roll my eyes, "Quinn, you do know I'm running for State Sen-"



"Yeah and when you win, you'll have even less time for your boring, non-famous sisters." Chelsea butts in.



Ten minutes; we've been sitting at lunch for ten minutes and they're  already ganging up on me. I sigh dramatically as I slip the phone back  in my bag and sling it over my chair; "Fiiiine. So what should we talk  about?"



"How about the fact that you're a major political figure and you're  still dragging us to shitty brunch diners like this place." Quinn says,  wrinkling her nose at the plain white cup of coffee in front of her.



"Hey, this place is an institution, you know. Plus it's freaking  delicious; I'd eat here every day if it wouldn't give Donald and Erika  conniptions."



"And what would Hudson think?"



Chelsea's snarky grin catches me off-guard, and I stumble; "W-What do you mean?"



"I mean about you eating pancakes and scrambled cheesy eggs every day."



I shrug as nonchalantly as I can; "I'm sure I've got no idea what he thinks about anything."



Like, me, for instance.



Quinn grins at me, and I steel myself, afraid she'll sniff out what I'm  really thinking about him like some sort of sex-bloodhound; "So how is  spending all that time with Hotsun going, anyways?"



I groan; "Qui-"



"What?! Have you fucking seen him!" She says with mock indignance; "He's like-"



"Packaged sex." Chelsea butts in, making the two of them devolve into giggles and my face into total guilty embarrassment.



"Guys, he's not-"



"Oh my God, Ray, why are you fighting her on that? She's totally right  and you know it. Hudson is like, James Bond, but with super hot tattoos  and a body off the cover of a romance novel." She arches her eyebrows at  me; "Hey, I mean if you don't want that, I mean I'm single-"



"Quinn I think you stole quite enough boyfriends from me in high school."



They both immediately beam at me as I realize my slip-up and die a little inside.



"Oh. My. God." Quinn's jaw drops.



"Guys, no, that is not what I-"



"No fucking way!" Chelsea stares at me with a grin on her face. She and Liz turn towards each other and start giggling again.



"Wait, no, it is not like- stop that!" People are starting to turn and  look our way, and even in this greasy little diner in midtown, I know  it's a matter of time before someone realizes who I am and starts to get  really interested in what we're talking about so animatedly.



"Guys, seriously!" I hiss; "Keep it down!"



Chelsea is beaming at me; "Hudson fucking Banks?"



"I think it's more ‘Hudson fucking our sister', actually." Quinn quips,  with the predicted giggle from Chelsea and the deeper shade of red on my  face.



I shake my head much to animatedly; "No way, of course not, he's horrible."



Quinn shrugs; "Well, I mean he's crude I guess, but horrible?"



"Ugh! He's one of Dad's thugs!" I'm not sure who I'm trying to convince more, me or them.



"So?" Chelsea shrugs; "Ok, he worked for Dad; big deal. It's not like he's our brother or something."



I make a face into my coffee; "Eww?"



Chelsea sighs; "No, I just mean what would be so weird about hooking up with Hudson?"



"Um, because besides that, how about the fact that Dad ditched us for  him and his other adopt-a-veteran pals all the fucking time?"



Chelsea looks quickly down and Quinn shakes her head at me; "You need to  let that one go sometime, Ray. You know Dad had his reasons for-"



"Ok, fine, whatever." Not the conversation I want have in the middle of a political campaign sitting in a diner.



We sit in silence for another moment before I open my mouth again; "Ok,  how about that he's technically my campaign financier? Hello? Conflict  of interest much?"



Quinn shrugs; "Archer Holdings is your campaign financier, not Hudson. So what's the harm?"



I slam the coffee cup down harder than I intend, spilling the lukewarm  liquid onto the countertop; "Because I feel like an idiot for sleeping  with him after what happened at Dad's wak-"



I freeze and clasp my hands to my mouth as the whole table goes silent, my sisters staring at me with open mouths.



Oh, fuck.



"Wait, what? You did sleep with him?!" Chelsea is wide-eyed and grinning at me.



"You hussy!" Quinn clucks her teeth like a mother hen; "And oh my God; what did you do get up to at a wake?!"



And it's right there, with room-temperature coffee all over my hands,  sitting in a crappy little midtown diner in the middle of the afternoon  that I start to cry. Quinn immediately changes her whole tune as she  jumps out the booth and crams in on my side, her arms going around me as  the tears and the sniffles come pouring out of me.



"Hey, hey now Ray."



"I'm horrible!" I moan into my hands, feeling Quinn's arms tighten around me.



"No, hon, you're not."



"But at Dad's fucking funer-"



"You were emotional and lost, and you needed something to grab onto; and  he was there." She nuzzles my hair like she used to do when we were  kids; "That's not being horrible, Ray, that's just being human." She  says softly.         

     



 



Chelsea reaches across the table and takes one of my hands, patting it  dry of coffee as I look up at her miserably; "And Hudson isn't so  terrible you know."