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9

Molly

Soft light spills into the room, making me blink.

Where am I?

For a second, I can’t remember anything. Last night feels like a fever dream. But then I do remember.

All of it.

A smile spreads over my face.

That was unexpected.

Blinking fast, I open my eyes wider and take in my surroundings. In the light of the day, this place is worse than I imagined. It’s dirty and looks like it’s been vacant for weeks, if not months. Dust and grime cling to everything.

I’m still curled up against Hudson, his chest acting as a pillow. It’s tempting to fall back asleep and nestle into his comfort, but he has a game to play, and I have a client to cater to.

I sit up quickly, rubbing my eyes.

What time is it?

I reach to where I put my phone last night.

The battery is almost dead, but at least I have enough juice to see it’s six in the morning.

We need to get on the road if we want to make sure no one finds out that Hudson didn’t make it to Kentucky.

Still on the ground, Hudson is fast asleep, his head lying on his shirt as a pillow.

His jaw is slackened, his expression peaceful.

Even now, he’s better looking than anyone I have ever seen. Meanwhile, I most likely look like death.

My gaze skims over Hudson’s lips, and butterflies swarm in my belly as I replay flashes of all that happened last night.

Didn’t see that coming, but lord , was it exactly what I needed.

I need to freshen up before he wakes.

Now that I actually care about his opinion.

How the hell did that happen?

I can’t have him seeing me like this.

With a quick pass through the aisles, I find what I’m looking for—a travel toothbrush with toothpaste.

Then I head to the bathroom. It looks different than it did last night, with only a phone flashlight as a light.

It’s dirty, with a film of dust caked on the cracked mirror. The sink isn’t much better. It’s barely functioning, so I bypass water when I brush my teeth and just spit the toothpaste out, vowing to find a bottle of water later.

Washing my hands, I finally study my reflection in the mirror. My cheeks look flushed, and my lips puffy.

Damn. I look well fucked.

Stop.

No thoughts like that, or I’ll be beet red by the time he sees me.

Finally, I head back out and find Hudson up. He’s standing near the counter, his back to me, holding his phone to his ear.

I freeze just out of sight, not wanting to interrupt him.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he says, laughing lightly. “Don’t worry about me. It was just a boring night in some random hotel. Totally fine.”

Hotel?

At his words, my heart tightens in my chest.

“You always worry too much,” he continues. Now, his voice lowers into a playful tone, dripping with affection. “I promise I’m fine. I’ll see you soon, okay? Love you, too.”

My mouth drops open as my pulse thunders in my veins.

Ground, open up, and kill me now.

How stupid can I be?

So stupid because, apparently, this asshole has a girlfriend.

But, of course, he does.

Why wouldn’t he?

He sucks, after all. I knew this from the moment we met, and I caught him staring at my ass.

And you’re the idiot who fell for his act.

Hook, line, and sinker.

I will myself to move, but I’m frozen in place as Hudson hangs up and slides the phone back into his pocket.

A few seconds pass before he turns around.

It feels like I’m punched in the stomach when our gazes meet, and his damn lips curve up into an easy grin.

Bastard .

Again, as I said before . . . Hudson Wilde sucks.

“You’re ready?” He picks up his discarded jacket from the tiles. “We should get out of here.”

I don’t answer.

How can I?

First off, I swear there are marbles in my throat. Second, I have no desire to look like an idiot. He can go fuck himself.

Instead, I turn around and walk toward the door; jaw clenched, knuckles clenched, everything clenched. I might not say anything, but lord, am I feeling it.

As I push open the heavy glass door, the hinges squeal. The early morning air is crisp, but it does nothing to cool the fire burning inside me.

I hear Hudson’s footsteps behind me, but I don’t slow down.

Unfortunately, his height allows him to quickly fall into step with me.

He slows at my side. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing.” I cross my arms at my chest, my fingers digging into the sides of my ribs.

“Right,” he responds like he doesn’t believe me. Good. I don’t care. “You look like someone kicked your ca—”

I stop abruptly, spinning to face him. “Can’t you ever shut up?”

He blinks, caught off guard. “Wow.”

“Yep. Wow,” I snap before I turn back and walk toward my car, the only sound coming from the crunching of the wet gravel under my feet.

Hudson groans, speeding to catch up to my almost run. “Well, clearly, I did something. You gonna tell me what?”

“Nope.”

His steps falter, but I don’t look. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

I let out a bitter laugh, still refusing to look at him. Cheaters don’t deserve answers.

Hudson is quiet before he coughs. “Is this about last night?”

Now, I do pivot to look at him.

I jab a finger into his chest. “You’re just—you’re so full of yourself.”

His lips quirk. “Oh, so it is about last night.”

My stomach churns. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“You know . . .” He starts to respond, then stops. His jaw locks tightly for a minute. “If you regret it, you can just say so. This whole tantrum is exhausting.”

“ You’re exhausting,” I fire back.

I have more to say, so much more, but nothing comes out even though I open my mouth.

No matter how hot it was, last night was a mistake. I’m better off just getting in the car and leaving all of this where it belongs. In the past.

“Let’s go. You’re already late.”

“Whatever you say, Hex.”