Page 5

Chapter four

Daphne

“That was everything ,” I say on a sigh, turning to Liv and pulling her into a hug.

“I loved it.” She releases me and looks over my shoulder to where I assume Hudson’s still standing. “I’m Liv, the best friend.”

“Hudson, the guy who stole your best friend for the night, sorry,” he says, and I turn to him. His dark blonde hair catches the overhead lights, and I see so much more of him now. The color of his eyes, swirling green and brown, are shining at me in a way that makes my heart race. Honestly, between seeing Gracie for the first time and having him behind me most of the night, my heart has barely had a chance to settle.

“Hey, listen. So long as you’re not an axe murderer you can borrow her,” Liv says before pausing. “You’re not an axe murderer are you, Hudson?” She holds his stare with a mocking glare that makes me want to laugh but I hold it in.

“Liv,” I hiss, my demeanor cracking slightly, but Hudson just chuckles. That low, lazy sound somehow makes my knees weak.

“I promise, I’m not an axe murderer,” he says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Scout’s honor.”

Liv snorts. “Please. You look like you skipped Boy Scouts and went straight to bench pressing bears for fun.”

Hudson grins like he’s completely unbothered and that’s also a plus in my book. Anyone who can cope with Liv is a green flag. “I’m a good guy, I promise. She’s in good hands. No axes, no bears.”

Liv narrows her eyes in that big-sister kind of way. “If you screw this up, BFG, I’ll hunt you down and murder you with my axe.”

Oh dear god, Olivia.

“Noted,” Hudson replies with a laugh, tucking his hands back into his pockets. “Daphne’s friend is scary as shit.”

“Ignore her,” I say as she pulls me into a hug, whispering into my ear, “Turn on your location and share it with me. I’ll be in our room eating chips and judging people on TikTok.”

“No, you can come with us. I don’t want to leave you.”

“Girl, please, I want to try to see that hot lead singer from the band anyway. Merch stand, right?”

I nod. “Yeah, but I’m coming with you. I don’t want you getting murdered by some weirdo with an axe either.”

Liv waves me off, already trying to escape through the crowd. “Don’t worry about me, Daph. I’m a professional axe-dodger, remember? My location is on too. Have fun.”

And just like that, she disappears into the sea of people, leaving me standing next to Hudson.

Is there some kind of protocol for when you’ve spent most of the evening with a stranger in the semi dark, not really looking at each other or talking, just bonding with the love of the music? I don’t know that it is, but it feels intimate. I feel close to him, like we’ve shared something. Yet I hardly know him.

But I do want to stay with Hudson, at least until I have to go back to my hotel room with Liv.

“Do you want to maybe—”

“Yes,” he interrupts, and I laugh.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“If it’s more time with you, then I want it.”

Damn this guy. He’s making me want to throw way too much caution to that brisk wind.

“Should we follow your friend first, though? I hate the idea of her being alone, even if she can dodge an axe.”

Is this guy for real? He can’t possibly be this perfect.

I glance in the direction where Liv disappeared, chewing on the inside of my cheek. “You’re right,” I say finally. “Let’s follow her. She might be fine, but I’d feel better if I knew for sure.”

“Good call,” he says, not hesitating for a second. The set of determination on his face to make sure my friend, who’s a stranger to him, is okay, is throwing me big time. Whoever raised him did an incredible job. Seriously, take a bow.

We weave through the crowd, with me scanning for any sign of Liv and Hudson trailing just behind. I spot her by the merch table, chatting with a guy who looks both terrified and mesmerized.

“There,” I say, pointing.

Hudson follows my gaze and lets out a low laugh. “She’s got him cornered.”

Liv is mid-sentence, gesturing wildly, but she stops when she sees us approaching. She groans, throwing her head back dramatically. “Daphne! I told you I was fine.”

“I know.” I cross my arms as my shoulders tug up in a shrug. “But you were the one who brought up axe murderers, and now it’s all I can think about.”

Hudson chuckles. “She’s not wrong. You did plant that idea.”

Liv rolls her eyes. “Fine. I’ll text you every ten minutes, okay? But seriously, go hang out with your new friend. I’m trying to score a backstage pass here.”

I hesitate, glancing at the guy she’s talking to. I’m sure he’s the lead singer she wanted to see, since his hair is the same, but poor guy. He’s frozen in place, fixated on Liv, who waves me off again. “Go! Have fun. Use protection and let me live my life in peace!”

Heat creeps up my neck, pooling in my cheeks until I’m sure I’m glowing, and as I step back, Hudson is right there. I’m praying he isn’t looking at me because I’m heating up all over. “Okay. But text me. I mean it.”

Without thinking, or looking at him, I grab Hudson’s hand in mine, instantly feeling the size difference. “Wow, you have big hands.” Jesus, mouth meet brain, we need to work on your connection. Why did I just say that?

He chuckles behind me, low and deep. “You know what they say about big hands, right?”

I give him a raised eyebrow over my shoulder. “Enlighten me.”

“Big gloves.”

A loud bubble of laughter explodes from my mouth as we walk toward the exit. I like that he makes me laugh so easily. Not that he needs points, but that’s another tick in the plus column.

As soon as we step outside, the cool air soothes the heat lingering on my face and I relax.

“So, how do you feel about pancakes? I saw an all-night pancake house on the way over here. It’s not far from my hotel,” he asks as we walk.

I grin, my tummy growling at the idea. “Pancakes?”

“The sign said ‘the fluffiest pancakes in all of America.’”

“Who are we to argue with that?”

We reach the diner a few minutes later, its neon sign blinking Pancake Paradise: Open 24 Hours in bright, retro letters. Hudson pulls open the door for me, the bell above it chiming as we step inside. The smell hits me immediately—syrup, butter, and something warm and comforting, like my mom’s cooking.

“Smells like heaven,” I say under my breath.

“It does,” he says, grinning as he gestures toward a booth by the window. “After you.”

I slide into the booth, the red leather squeaking as I move, and Hudson follows, sitting across from me. He leans back, looking completely at ease, and I think that just might be how he is. I noticed it at the concert and here too. He’s the kind of guy who isn’t fazed by much, and I might envy that a little. He reminds me of Finn, not in any other way other than their laid-back nature. I’m the neurotic overthinker of my brother and I, always striving for perfection.

A waitress appears almost immediately, her notepad in hand and her expression somewhere between happy and tired. “What can I get you two tonight?”

Hudson doesn’t even glance at the menu, keeping his eyes on me. “Two stacks of fluffy pancakes, the biggest you’ve got, and a side of bacon. You good with bacon?”

I nod eagerly. “And whipped cream,” I add. “Oh, and can my syrup be on the side.”

She notes our order. “Any drinks?”

“Chocolate milkshake,” we say at the same time.

Our voices overlap perfectly, and I blink at him as he freezes mid-sentence, his grin slowly spreading.

“Be still my heart,” he says, his eyes bright with amusement. “You love chocolate milkshakes?”

“It’s the only acceptable milkshake flavor,” I reply with a smile.

He leans back against the booth, one hand running through his hair and he looks so fucking sexy. “Jesus, you’re perfect.”

I snort, a ridiculous sound that loves to come out and taunt me when I’m embarrassed.

“That everything?” the waitress breaks the moment before I can protest that I’m far from perfect.

We both nod, and she scurries away.

Hudson leans forward again, forearms resting on the table, his warm hand impossibly close to mine. His fingers inch closer, deliberate but unassuming, tracing slow, idle patterns on the wood near my wrist. My skin feels like it’s tingling, waiting for him to close that tiny gap and touch me, every nerve attuned to his nearness.

“So,” he says, voice low and rich, “what’s your favorite song from tonight?”

I swallow, trying to tamp down the sensation ricocheting around my body like a firework show. Somehow, I manage to speak. “‘Risk’ is a fave of mine. I also really like ‘I Know It, I Know You’… Oh, and ‘Good Luck Charlie.’ What about you? What’s your favorite?”

“I like those too. Honestly, there isn’t a song I don’t like,” he says with a crooked smile, “and I really did mean it when I told you ‘I Love You, I’m Sorry’ is a fave too. That one gets me every time.”

I nod along, latching onto the safe topic of the music, even though my brain is already halfway melted. “Loved that one live tonight. The energy was insane.” All amplified by the fact he was standing so close to me.

“It was.” His fingers brush against mine now, sending a spark straight up my arm, and it takes everything I have not to react. He doesn’t pull away, and I don’t want him to.

The waitress returns, setting our milkshakes on the table with a quick smile. “Pancakes will be right out.”

Hudson removes his hand from mine, his fingers now idly tracing the straw, and my skin protests at the lack of contact. “So Daphne, tell me something about you.”

I take a sip of my drink. “What do you want to know?”

“I’ll listen to anything you want to tell me.”

My stomach flutters at that, and I hum, tapping my finger against the side of my glass, trying to pretend I’m not completely affected by him. “Okay, how about I tell you two truths and one lie?”

He grins, gaze set on mine. “Sounds good to me.”

I take a second to think and make sure I clear my throat before I speak. “I’ve broken my arm twice. I’m a twin. I hate mint-flavored food.”

His hazel eyes assess me in a way that makes me feel as though I’m being undressed. It’s intoxicating the way he looks at me, like I’m the only one in the room. “I believe that you hate mint-flavored food, because just from your order tonight, I think you have a super sweet tooth. So that’s one truth…”

Hudson tilts his head, his grin softening into something more thoughtful as he continues to study me. I like the weight of his stare. “You said you’re a twin?” His eyes narrow slightly, curiosity sparking. “I feel like that’s true, but also...could be a bluff. So, I’m guessing the lie is...you’ve broken your arm twice.”

I raise an eyebrow, leaning slightly forward, my elbow on the table. “Confident, aren’t you?”

He shrugs, then his fingers resume their slow, lazy movement on his straw. “Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re right. I’ve actually broken my arm three times, not twice.”

He winces. “Ouch, I think I need to cover you in bubble wrap when we leave here.”

A warmth blankets me as I giggle at the idea. It sounds ridiculous, but not when he suggests it. “I mean, all of them were my brother’s idea. I was just dumb enough to go along with him.”

He pauses for a second. “Are you two close?”

Smiling, I nod. “He’s my best friend.” I lean in, lowering my voice, and he moves in too, resting his arms on the table. I get a subtle hint of sweet chocolate and his cologne. “Just don’t tell Liv; she gets super territorial of me.”

“My lips are sealed,” he whispers, and his eyes flick down, locking onto my mouth. It’s subtle but unmistakable. My breath catches, and I’m suddenly hyper-aware of every move I make, the way my lips press together, the way his gaze darkens. His lips part slightly, like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans in closer, so close, I can see the faint flecks of gold in his eyes, can feel the heat radiating off him. His arm shifts on the table, bringing him just a fraction nearer, and I want nothing more than to press my lips to his. This isn’t me. I’m not usually the girl who does things like this, but tonight, with Hudson’s eyes on mine, I want to be a little reckless, to stoke the fire building in my belly. Just this once, I want to let go.

And then our pancakes arrive, and the moment is gone.

Damn it.