Page 41

Chapter forty

Hudson

14-15 weeks

I didn’t want to leave the bubble we created in Aurora Valley. It’s been three weeks since we’ve been back at school, but I’m still holding on to the way things felt there. Maybe I’m obsessed with the place, or maybe I’m obsessed with her. Hell, probably both.

It’s not like we haven’t adjusted to being back, though. Daphne’s first post went live last week for CLUSports, and it’s been picking up traction the last few days.

Gracie Abrams quietly plays over the speakers in her dorm room, as we laze around together. I worked late last night and had to miss the scrapbook club, and Daphne had a random evening of feeling nauseous again. So we’re taking it easy today.

“Did you know the baby’s the size of an avocado now?” I say, sprawled across her bed, scrolling through my phone with one arm tucked behind my head.

“That’s cute,” she replies, not looking up from her laptop. She’s focused, like always, that little wrinkle between her eyebrows showing she’s deep in thought.

“Also, apparently, the baby will start swallowing amniotic fluid this week,” I add. Then I shudder, closing the app. “Okay, that’s enough for today. The whole swallowing thing kind of freaks me out.”

She chuckles, the sound light and soft, and it makes me grin like an idiot. This is our rhythm now: her editing her sports posts, me learning more than I ever thought I’d know about babies, and both of us spending more nights in each other’s dorms than apart. I could get used to this—hell, I already have.

“Whatch’a doooooin?” I ask, adjusting the hat on my head, spinning it around, wondering if I can get her attention.

“Working on a new segment idea,” she tells me, eyes still on her screen. Damn, the hat magic isn’t working. “I want to shift to representing every woman, so I’m planning a weekly highlight reel with a little interview and calling it Power Play. I’ll feature new athletes, current athletes, even moms at the school. Did you know that Kaia Braska has twins? Twins! And Sophie Morres has a two-year-old. Both are the highest-scoring athletes here, and they’re keeping their grades up too. It’s insane how they juggle it all. I mean, I say all this, but I haven’t been given a regular spot yet.”

Her arms gesture wildly, her passion pouring out with every word. I can’t help but smile.

“And none of these women have been featured to talk about how they do it all. It’s like they’re invisible or something. I’m going to change that.”

“Damn right you are,” I say firmly. She looks up at me then, her eyes flick to the hat, and the interest sparking there is all I wanted. So I lean in, holding her gaze. “What you’re doing, Daph, it’s huge. People need to see this. They need to see them. And you’re the perfect person to make it happen. The team know that too, you’ll get a spot I know it.”

Her cheeks flush at the compliment, but she quickly looks back at her screen, scribbling a note in the margin of her notebook. “Thanks,” she murmurs. Then a ping echoes from her laptop, and her attention snaps up. She frowns, scrolling through whatever notification she just got, and then her eyes go wide, and she’s squealing. “Oh my god, oh my god!”

I shoot forward, trying to see her screen. “What? What is it?”

“They—” she pants. “They just emailed me. I got a regular segment spot.” She spins to face me. “I got it!”

“Daph!” I can’t help myself, I grab her waist and lift her off the chair, spinning her around as laughter fills the room. She’s breathless when I set her down.

“Oh my god, this is happening.”

“You earned it, princess.” My hands stay firmly on her waist. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” she beams. “I need to text Liv.”

“Isn’t she coming here tomorrow?” I ask, vaguely remembering something.

She nods, but her fingers are already whipping across her screen. “She is.”

I give her a second to type out her message, and then when she looks back at me, her smile almost knocks me on my ass. The curve of her perfect lips, the shine in her bright blue eyes. I’ll never get tired of seeing it.

“Wanna get the gang together with Liv tomorrow to celebrate?” I ask.

She nods excitedly. “That’s a great idea. I’ll text Quinn.”

Hearing her say that, so casually, makes me grin. My girl is friends with my best friends. We’ve all grabbed food and coffees over the last few weeks. And knowing that she’s comfortable with them, with my people, it feels right.

“Okay, she’s rallying the group,” she says, placing her phone down. “Maybe…” she begins, chewing her lip. “We should officially tell them about the baby.”

I search her face for a second and nod. “I’d love that. Let’s do it.”

When she leans her head against my chest, I wrap my arms around her without thinking, tucking her into the nook of my arms. Moments like this, it’s like the rest of the world falls away. I press a kiss to the top of her head.

Then I feel her shoulders start to shake and tiny little sobs slip up between us. Pulling her back, I crouch down and grasp her face between my palms to see tears falling. “Hey, hey, what happened? We’re happy, right? Are these happy tears?”

She shakes her head, her bottom lip wobbling. “I just thought about how happy I am, and then I thought I want to call my parents to tell them, but my dad—” She breaks off with a loud sob, burying her head in my chest again.

I wrap her in a cocoon, wanting to absorb all her hurt. I know the app said mood swings are likely; I just didn’t realize it would make me feel so fucking bad for her too. “I’m sorry, princess. I wish I knew how to make this better.”

Then she whispers, “What if he doesn’t come around, and I can’t tell him things like this or about the baby? What if this is all a huge mistake?” The last word cracks, like she’s been holding it in for too long.

Hooking a finger under her chin, I tilt her face up so she has no choice but to look at me. I keep my eyes trained on her—every inch of her. Her flushed cheeks, the curve of her lips, the tiny, barely noticeable bump that holds the best thing that’s ever happened to me. My heart stalls mid-beat. Mistake? No. She feels like coming home to the smell of freshly baked cookies. The world makes sense when she’s close.

“This isn’t a mistake,” I say, my voice steady. “It’s…everything, Daph. You’re everything. Both of you.” My throat tightens, but I push through it. “You’re my favorite people, and I haven’t even met one of you yet.”

Her lips part slightly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. For a second, I think she might cry, but instead, she leans into my hand, her cheek soft and warm against my palm.

“I mean it,” I add, my thumb brushing lightly over her skin. I fight the swell of emotion rising in my throat and simply focus on her as I lower my lips and lose myself in her kiss.

***

“Should I wear something different?” Daphne asks, turning left and right in front of the mirror, her eyes scanning her reflection critically. Then she pivots to check out her butt, lifting one eyebrow. We’ve been here for a while, but it’s okay. I like staring at her. Especially since that little baby of mine is desperate to make itself known. When she turns to the side, I notice that tiny lift in her belly and it makes me feel all kinds of giddy. Who fucking knew this would be my life? Not me, but damn if I’m not here for it.

“Daph, princess, baby girl, honey pie, sugar tits—”

That gets her gaze whipping to mine. “Sugar tits? Really?”

“I mean, the tits do look great.” I grin, having her full attention now. “You look good in everything, princess.” I walk over to her, slipping my arms around her, splaying my hand over her belly that’s currently covered by a skintight white shirt. “Or nothing. You know you could go naked? Mmm, I like that option.”

She laughs, a sound that I’m fully addicted to. Stepping forward slightly, she lifts her hair, revealing the slope of her neck. The spot I’d left a little mark on this morning when things got…intense is right there. Fuuuuuuck, and she loved it. Don’t think about that right now, Hudson. Not unless you want to derail this whole outing.

“You don’t think my birthday suit will attract too much attention?” she teases, glancing at me over her shoulder with that sly smile.

Tapping my chin, I pretend to think it over, eyes roaming her body as I step back. “Hmm. You’re right. Naked is only for me.”

“So if I’m not wearing my birthday suit and this shirt seems to scream baby on board with all the bloating, then…”

“Wear the pink sweater. That’s my favorite. Pink’s a good color on you. Makes you look extra…” I pause, letting my gaze drift slowly from her face to her bump and back again, just to make her squirm. “Hot.”

She pulls the sweater on, shaking her head like she’s exasperated with me, but the way she smiles as she smooths it down tells me she knows I’m right.

“See? Perfect,” I say, gripping her hips and spinning her around to plant a kiss on her lips. “Now let’s go. I’m hungry, which means my baby must be hungry too.”

“You’re ridiculous.” She giggles, and my heart does a little flip as we walk out hand in hand.

Within fifteen minutes, we arrive at Mug Life just on the edge of campus. The coffee aroma hits us as we step inside, and I scan the room for my friends. Liv isn’t here yet. She got stuck in traffic so she’s meeting us soon, but she already knows and told us to go ahead.

They’re over in the usual corner table, occupying both since there’s so many of us. Indie must not be working today since she’s sitting on Seb’s lap without her pink apron. Miles and Quinn are laughing with Jay about something, and I suddenly get a wave of nerves erupting in my stomach.

My hand squeezes Daphne’s as we approach them, once, then twice in quick succession.

“What does two squeezes mean? You’ve done it a couple of times now. Is it some kind of code?” she whispers, leaning in close behind me. “Do you want me to make a scene so we run out of here?”

That gets a smile out of me despite my nerves. I turn to face her, and the sight of those baby blues staring back at me is all it takes to settle my racing heart. How does she do that? Every single time.

“The two squeezes means…” I hesitate, scanning her face. “It means, you good?”

She takes in what I’ve said, but there’s something else that sparks in her eyes, that I can’t quite read. Then she nods, giving me an easy smile. “I’m good. Let’s hard launch this.”

That confidence in her voice fills me with confidence too. For about two seconds. Then it hits me. I have no idea how I’m going to introduce her to them.

My steps falter, and I stop us just a few feet away from the table. “Wait,” I say, spinning and pulling her gently back toward me.

She looks up at me, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

I open my mouth, then close it again, suddenly hyper-aware of what I’m about to ask. We’ve not had the boyfriend-girlfriend talk, but in my head, that’s what we are. “Will you, uh, be my girlfriend?”

Her head tilts as her eyes flick between mine. Shit, does she already think she is? I mean, I think she is; I just wasn’t sure if she thought we are, or do we both know she is but haven’t said she is… Am I spiraling?

I clear my throat, trying to find my footing. “I just… I wanted to introduce you this time as my girlfriend. And then I realized I never actually asked you, and I—I want that. For you to be mine. My girlfriend. Just mine. You and the baby.” I take a breath, my heart practically in my throat now. “Is… Is that okay?”

Her gaze softens. “Hudson, I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

Relief crashes over me, and I let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through my hair. “Okay, good. I’d love that too, to be your boyfriend. Obviously.”

She giggles as I pull her into me and press a quick kiss to her forehead. When we turn this time, all eyes are on us before I say.

“Everyone, Daphne and I are together and we’re having a baby.”

That’s a hard launch right?