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Hudson

When I get home today from practice, I find Molly sitting cross-legged on the couch.

I expect to find Twinkie on her lap. Instead, she has her laptop balanced there.

Twinkie is on the cushion next to her, fast asleep, despite the sound of her fingers typing furiously.

She’s been like this every day for the past three days.

Every day since I told her the full extent of what’s going on at the farm.

Now, she searches for a solution to a problem that isn’t even hers to solve.

She hasn’t stopped trying to figure out a way to fix it—for me.

“Hudson,” she says, breaking the silence, and I expect her to tell me another idea.

“Yeah?”

She closes the laptop and sets it aside, her eyes locking on to mine. “I think you need to tell Coach.”

Um, where the hell did that come from?

I was sure I was safe from hockey talk because she’s been avoiding it, but fuck.

I shake my head. “Tell Coach? Yeah, that’s going to be a no.”

She sits up straighter. “Hudson, you can’t keep doing this. Hiding your injury, playing while hurt.”

I shake my head, standing and pacing the room. “You don’t understand, Molly. If Coach finds out I was working on the farm, I could lose everything. My spot on the team, my reputation—”

“Your health.” She cuts in. “You could lose your career permanently if you keep hiding this. Is that what you want?”

I stop pacing, my chest tightening. “Of course not.”

“Then you need to tell him.” She exhales. “Please, Hudson. Ask him for help. Tell him. I know you don’t know Robert like I do, but he’s a good man. A really good man.”

That’s easy for her to say. She’s known Coach Robert since she was a teen. The man is practically a father figure to her. To me . . . well, I’m the reckless player he wishes he could throw off the team.

I run a hand through my hair.

I can’t do it.

I can’t come clean.

But maybe she’s right. Perhaps I need to.

“You really think I should?” I ask.

“I do.” She stands up and crosses the room to stand in front of me. “Because I know you, Hudson. And I know that you’re tired of hiding. Tell him. I promise it will be okay.”

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

The following morning, I’m standing outside Coach’s office.

My heart pounds in my chest.

Maybe I’m having a heart attack.

Now I’m being ridiculous.

Stop dicking around and go in there.

It’s time.

And if I get let go, at least Molly will be there for me.

I take a deep breath.

Knock on the damn door.

“Come in.”

With slow moves, I push the door open. It feels heavy today, but I know it’s just nerves.

Once it’s open, I step inside and make my way to his desk. He’s already sitting there with a stack of papers in front of him. He looks up, and when he does, I swear I start to sweat.

Fuck. Man the fuck up, Hudson.

He raises an eyebrow. “Wilde.” He leans back in his chair. “What brings you here?”

Even though he hasn’t told me to sit, I do. “Coach, I need to talk to you about something.”

His brow furrows. “This sounds serious.”

I let out a breath. “It is.” Shit, how do I say this? “I’m hurt,” I admit and then I tell him everything.

About the farm.

About the money.

About the accident.

When I get to that part, Coach’s jaw tightens.

“And you’ve been practicing with this injury?” he asks, his voice low. Fuck. He’s pissed.

This is it. Time to kiss my career on the Saints goodbye. It’s been a good run.

I nod. “Yeah.”

He rubs a hand over his face. “Hudson, this is reckless, even for you. You could have made it worse.”

“I know.” I nod. “I screwed up. But I didn’t know what to do. The farm’s barely holding on. I needed to help them, and the only way I can is with hockey.”

Coach is silent for a moment, his gaze heavy. Finally, he lets out a long sigh. “All right, I have an idea.”

I sit up straighter, my heart pounding. He hasn’t kicked me off the team yet. That’s got to be a good sign.

“You’re sitting out the first three games,” he says firmly. “You’re going to focus on getting that wrist healed.”

Holy fuck.

This is the best outcome I could have prayed for.

“Thank you, Coach.”

“I’m not done.” His eyes narrow. Fuck, I celebrated too soon. “You’re also going to let me make a few calls. I have connections. I think I can help you find more endorsement deals. Maybe one that can help the farm.”

My eyes widen. I can’t speak. “You’d do that?”

“You’re one of my best players, Wilde,” he says. “But more importantly, you’re a good kid. You made a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” A small smile tugs at his lips.

When I walk out of Coach’s office, I’m already feeling better.

I find Molly where I left her, waiting by the car.

“And?” She taps her foot on the pavement impatiently.

God, I love this woman.

I smile, the first one in days. “Good. He’s making me sit out the first three games, but he’s also helping me find another endorsement deal. One that could also help the farm.”

“Oh my God.” She gasps. “This is amazing. I’m so happy for you.”

“Yeah, it is. And it’s all thanks to you.”

She shakes her head, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around my neck. “You did this, Hudson. You should be proud of yourself. God, I love you so much.”

I kiss her head. “Molly Sinclair-Wilde. Hex. You’re my favorite bad luck charm.” I wink.

She laughs softly, her arms wrapping around me. “Always.”