Thief:A Bad Boy Romance(294)

 

“Gah! Quinn! What?” I say, wiping my eyes on her arm.

 

She gives me a look a the mascara marks I leave on her sweater before she shakes her head; “No, it’s just- I don’t know, you’ve just never really struck me as the casual hook-up type, that’s all.”

 

I frown; “What do you mean?”

 

She frowns; “I mean with Hudson,” She shrugs; “Hey I guess the campaign really is good at getting you out of your comfort zo- Oh fuck, honey-”

 

My face starts to crumble again, and Chelsea reaches across the table to smack Quinn’s hand.

 

“Soooo…not necessarily a casual thing.”

 

I dump my head in my hands; “I don’t know! No? Maybe?” Ugh; I fucking hate crying like this over some guy like some sort of movie cliche. But damnit if Hudson hasn’t wormed right under my skin.

 

“It’s complicated, I guess.”

 

Chelsea smirks at me; “Ray, your whole life is complicated; maybe you need a little simplicity.”

 

I exhale loudly; “I should let the whole thing go, shouldn’t I?”

 

My younger, somehow far wiser sister grins at me as she squeezes my hand; “No, I’m saying you clearly have a lot more feelings about Hudson than I think you’re even admitting to yourself, and like always, you’re overthinking it.”

 

“So-”

 

“So you like him, and I’m betting he likes you. So just tell him, Reagan.” Quinn says.

 

Across the table, Chelsea nods and shrugs; “Try simple for change, Ray.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

 

 

 

 

Hudson

 

 

 

 

P R E S E N T

 

 

 

I end up getting a grand total of two jabs into my warm-up before I throw off my gloves with a snarl and head for the shower. There’s a brief hesitation right before I step under the spray; as if a tiny part of me is reluctant to wash the smell and the feel and the memory of her off of my skin.

 

‘A big mistake…kind of like last night.’

 

I step under the water and slam the shower-door shut.

 

 

 

I don’t know why or even how I find myself at the cable network building where her second interview of the day is being filmed, but fuck it, I’m there. That’s what’s so twisted about this whole Reagan situation; I don’t want to be around her, but apparently I can’t seem to stay away either. The interview has already started as I stand just outside the light behind the cameras off-stage, watching her and trying not to let the fact that she’s laughing and smiling and just plain gorgeous get under my skin so much.

 

“Hey babe.” Samantha’s voice slithers into my ear as she comes up behind me and wraps her arms around me, as if we’ve even met more than three times.

 

“What are you doing here, Sam?” I hiss at her quietly, though not quietly enough to avoid getting an evil look from one of the stage managers. Is this girl following me or something?

 

She slaps my chest playfully and rolls her eyes, as if I’ve just said a joke of some kind; “Uh, because I intern for the Archer campaign? Duh?”

 

Oh fuck. Reagan’s immediately furious reaction to my having Samantha on my arm before suddenly makes way more sense; because she’s a campaign intern, kind of like the type of campaign intern that she broke up with that idiot Chet for fucking. The pieces slide a bit more together and I cringe as I think about it.

 

She answers a question with a line I don’t hear but that makes the older news anchor chuckle. But then as she looks up with a smile on her face, she suddenly sees me standing there behind the cameras with Samantha hanging off my arm, and her smile fades instantly. She’s glaring at me, so much so that I even see the stage manager signal for another camera angle. There’s a bit of smug satisfaction with seeing her jealous like that, but it’s an empty victory considering the way shit went down this morning and the two pieces I’ve just put together, and I can’t even find a crumb of victory in it.

 

The interview ends, and I finally get Samantha to get off my arm by promising to call her later even though I’ve certainly never saved her number anywhere. I almost want to smile at the predictability of Reagan marching right up to me after she yanks off her microphone, but I keep it under wraps at the look in her face.

 

“I thought you weren’t coming.” Her eyes flash past me at Sam walking away behind me and her eyes narrow a little’ “So how’s Sam?”

 

I reach out and put my hand on her arm; “Calm down, it’s not what it looks-”