The Fixed Trilogy(Fixed on You, Found in You, Forever With You)(213)
“Alayna.” He pulled me back into him, his voice thick with emotion. “My precious girl. I never want to hurt you again. Will you ever be able to…forgive me?”
I nodded, unable to respond verbally. Yes, I could forgive him. I already had. But it didn’t change how much it hurt. It didn’t change how much healing still had to occur.
Hudson rocked me in his arms as I cried, intermittently kissing my head and apologizing. After a while, he swept me into his arms and carried me to the bed. He curled up with me, holding me against him.
When I’d finally finished with the tears, I sat up against the headboard with a hiccup. “Huh. I don’t know where that came from.”
He sat up next to me, wiping my cheeks. “You needed to let it out. I understand.”
“You do?”
“I do.” He put a tentative arm around me. “Is it okay that I’m here?”
“Yes! Please, don’t leave.” I clutched him, afraid that he would go.
“As long as you want me, I’m here.”
“Good.” I relaxed, letting my heartbeat return to a normal pace. “All that?” I gestured abstractly, referring to my sob scene. “That was just…”
“Healing?”
“Yeah. Cathartic. The last step of all that before stuff. I think I have some closure now.” I felt cleansed—inside and out. I smiled as I traced Hudson’s lips with my finger.
“I admire your optimism, but old pain has a way of showing up from time to time, even when life is going well.” He caught my finger in his hand. “I’m sure we’ll both feel this way every now and then.”
I took a long breath in. I couldn’t stand that I’d hurt him too. It almost pained me as much as his betrayal.
“Don’t dwell on it.” His voice was soft. “We have the future to make up for the hurts we’ve caused each other.”
Right then, I was ready to dedicate my life to making up. Was I really thinking of us as forever? Well, at least long term.
I twisted my lips at the thought. “This is a new beginning for us, isn’t it?”
He leaned forward to brush my nose with his. “No. This is better than a beginning. This is what happens next.”
“I like that.”
He leaned in and kissed me, sweetly and luxuriously, with promises of all the other things that would happen next. As if there was nothing in the world to do but lavish me with love.
Chapter Three
Hudson called into the office the next morning, deciding to work from home. I’d already made arrangements to be gone from the club for the next several days so I didn’t bother going in either. We spent our time in the library, each of us working on our own projects, not talking much, which was fine. Exhausted from jet lag and lack of sleep, Hudson was in a mood. Even grumpy, I was glad for his presence. It was comforting just to be with him.
I did leave the apartment but only to get a wax and attend my group therapy that evening. When I returned, Hudson was passed out in our bed. I let him sleep.
Before I joined him, I got a run in on the treadmill and texted Stacy. Thanks, but no thanks, my message said. I probably didn’t need to respond at all, but it gave the issue finality. I slept soundlessly the whole night through.
The next day was a holiday—the Fourth of July. Hudson surprised me by taking me to brunch at the Loeb Boathouse in Central Park. Afterward, we walked through the park, holding hands and enjoying each other’s company. We were good—it felt right being with him. Easy.
Yet there was a tangible fragility between us. We were cautious with each other, handling one another with kid gloves. Hudson’s lingering fatigue didn’t help the situation.
Later, getting ready for the evening’s fireworks display, Hudson came up behind me as I primped in the bedroom mirror. He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed along my neckline. “We’ve been pussy-footing around each other all day,” he said at my ear. “I’m warning you now that I’m done. It’s time for me to start treating you like what you are: Mine.”
My breath caught sharply.
“And yes, that means that you’ll be fucked later. Hard.”
Just like that, our tentativeness was over. And I needed a change of panties.
Except for a few casual strokes and caresses, Hudson kept his hands to himself during our ride to the Firework Cruise. I had a feeling the minimal contact was purposeful. He was building the anticipation.
And, god, was it working.
The air between us was charged. His sexual promise remained ever present in my thoughts, turning me into a powder keg waiting for that one spark to light me on fire. He, on the other hand, seemed completely unaffected—as though he hadn’t uttered those carnal words to me only an hour earlier.