“Are you hurt.”
I shake my head quietly. “No.”
“Then lets go, now.”
It’s not until we’re outside that the shock really hits me, and suddenly I find myself angry, and I’m angry at Hudson for some reason. I’m angry that I needed rescuing; that somehow I need him at all. We’re right by his car when I shake my hand out of his and stop suddenly in my tracks. Hudson turns to me and I suddenly snap. “I don’t need rescuing you know.”
He frowns. “Could’ve fooled me, Princess.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I mean in general, I don’t need you saving me or anything. I mean I’m the normal one here, Hudson, you’re the one with all the baggage that needs rescuing.”
He looks at me coolly as he steps closer to me. “Is that a fact? You think I need rescuing?”
I purse my lips and frown, crossing my arms over my chest. “Mhmm.” And then he’s right in front of me, and I can feel my own body betray me at his proximity. My pulse starting to race and my breath coming quicker.
“You know,” he growls, smirking that smug smile as he leans so close to my face that our lips are almost touching. “We’d probably get along better if you’d just stop pretending you don’t want me.”
“You’re fucking delusional, I don’t want you at all.” I sneer at him, knowing how totally unconvincing that sounds and feeling more like I’m trying to convince myself than him.
“Oh, so it’s Chet you want in there? Is that it?”
“Shut up, you don’t know what I want, Hudson.” His eyes flash at me, and he’s so close to me that I could just breath and kiss him.
“Yes, I do.” He growls lowly, his eyes flashing at me, and I gasp as he takes my hand and places it against the front of his pants. He’s rock hard inside, and I can feel my own body throb with desire as I feel how aroused he is for me. And I know he’s right, too. I know he sees right through my bullshit and little bratty outburst and sees exactly what I want.
The side door to the museum slams open and Donald comes huffing out, looking furious and red in the face as he starts to scream something at Hudson.
“Get in the fucking car, Archer.” He whispers into my ear, sending a shiver right through me and making me tingle somewhere deep inside.
“Fine” I spit out, as if I’m letting him take me away, even though it’s the only thing in the world I want in that moment.
Chapter Twenty-One
Hudson
P A S T
I duck and weave, dancing back to try and avoid Logan's hook, but I of course catch it in the side anyways. I can feel the sweat stinging my eyes, and my shoulder’s throbbing in that way that I know I should give it a rest, but I know I won’t.
I also know that Logan's going to beat me like he does every time we box like this, but that doesn’t stop me from putting up a fight anyways. That’s pretty much the first thing he taught after showing me how to lace up the gloves; always put up a fight.
I swing wildly, feeling fatigued to the point of sloppiness as I swing through air where his face used to be. He’s grinning at me, looking like he’s barely out of breath as he skips away before ducking back in to land another hit against my jaw.
“You wanna yield?” He’s taunting me, and we both know it. We also both know these little bouts of ours only end when I can’t physically lift my arm anymore or when I hit the ground too many times.
“Getting tired, old man?” I grin at him, knowing this gets right under his skin. “I mean thirty’s creeping up there buddy, I can let you go take a breather if you wan-” I see fucking stars as his glove catches me right above the left eye, and then the world is spinning as I land on my back on the floor of the ring.
Bryce taps the bell, shaking his head as I turn to shake my head at him. “Nope, fuck off Hudson, I’m calling it.”
“Aww c’mon man! I had him!”
Logan snorts as he bends down to give me a hand up. “Oh, definitely, Hud. Closest one yet.”
“Dick.”
He grins at me. “Hey, someday you might even land a punch on me, which’ll be the surprise of the century.”
I’m swatting at him with my glove when Bryce swears under his breath. “I got one better for you.”
I glance over at him, hunched over his laptop screen with his jaw hanging open and furrow my brow. “What?” He’s slowly shaking his head, his eyes skimming whatever he’s reading. “Dude, what?”
Bryce raises his head to look at us with a crooked grin on his face. “Reagan Archer just announced her candidacy for New York State Senate.”