Just a Fling Page 7

  I pinch myself, hoping it’ll make me think more clearly. I’m daydreaming about moving to Hudson’s hometown, even though he’s made it clear he wants nothing to do with me.

  Willow is right. Lack of dick can make you delusional. When I get home, I’m dragging out my vibrator.

  That will compensate enough, right?

  It won’t be as fun as a real cock and a hard body above me, nor can it eat me out, but hey, a girl has to get off some way.

  Unless.

  I can be persuasive.

  My mind is toggling back and forth like two open internet tabs.

  I want Hudson.

  That’s for sure.

  But I shouldn’t want him.

  I can’t want him.

  I look up at the sound of applause, realizing I’ve been zoned out the entire movie.

  “Are we flying back to LA in the morning?” Hudson asks when we make it back to the suite from the after-party.

  It’s late, and I can’t wait to take off my makeup and throw my ass into bed. You’d think someone my age would be excited to party all night, but I’m over it, especially now that I have to act like I’m obsessed with Eli the entire time.

  Talk about a total buzz kill.

  The buzz kill could’ve also been Hudson giving us a death stare the entire time we were playing boyfriend and girlfriend.

  “We are,” I answer. “Then we’re taking a connecting flight to see Willow.” Willow lives a few hours from LA.

  “Any updates on her situation?”

  “Brett is still on the ventilator. Other than that, nothing.”

  He nods.

  We’re standing in the living room only a few feet away from each other and having an awkward stare-off. I tense at the sound of his throat clearing.

  “We need to get to bed. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow,” he states.

  I fiddle with my hands in front of me, still staring. In hopes I wouldn’t make a fool of myself again, I chose to stay sober and only drink water tonight. Hudson clears his throat again, breaking me out of the weird trance I’m in. There won’t be any late night drinking or chatting taking place tonight. It’s going to end with me in my bed and him in his.

  “Right, yeah,” I whisper. “Good night.”

  He watches me walk to my room and waits until I shut the door before turning the lights off. I feel beat down while looking at the door.

  What are we doing?

  Why am I trying to play this game when he’s withdrawn?

  I don’t go to the bathroom to change until I hear his door shut. I put on my pajamas and climb into bed with my phone in my hand to text Willow.

  Me: How’s everything going?

  I’m not surprised when my phone beeps few seconds later.

  Willow: No updates. Results still don’t look promising.

  Me: I’m coming there tomorrow.

  Willow: You don’t have to do that.

  Me: Yes, I do. You’re my best friend.

  Willow: Thank you. I love you.

  Me: Love you more. Get some rest, girl.

  I turn the ringer on high, in case she tries to call, and quickly fall asleep from exhaustion.

  The text comes before we board the flight to go back to LA.

  Willow: Please tell me you haven’t left to come here yet?

  Me: No, we’re scheduled to fly out in 20 minutes. What’s up?

  Willow: Don’t.

  My pulse spikes as I clasp my hand tighter around my phone in fear.

  Me: What? Why? Did something happen to Brett?

  I exit out of our text and try to call her, but it goes to voicemail.

  Willow: Can’t talk right now. Brett woke up.

  I grin, jumping up and down while ignoring people’s stares.

  Me: That’s great news! I’m so happy for you!

  Isn’t it? Because she sure doesn’t seem happy about it. I would’ve expected a phone call from her beaming with excitement. Dread sinks into my stomach. Maybe he woke up, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to survive or be able to go back to his normal life.

  Willow: It’s crazy right now. Go home. Relax. I’ll call you later to tell you everything. Love you.

  Me: Love you. XO

  I look over at Hudson, who’s been giving me strange looks since my outburst of excitement. “False alarm. We’re not going to Willow’s.”

  “Is that good news or bad news?”

  “I’m not exactly sure. Willow said he woke up, but there was no excitement, which is weird. It’s like there’s a void inside her right now, and I don’t know what to do.”

  “Be patient with her. She’s processing everything. Her world just tilted on its axis, and she’s figuring out how to fix it.”

  “I guess you’re right.” This is unusual for Willow, but I’m going to give her time.

  “So back to LA?”

  “Back to LA.”

  Fourteen

  Hudson

  “We meet again,” I say when I spot Stella stepping into the kitchen from the dark hallway. She’s wearing something similar to what she had on the last time we were in this situation—lacey shorts and a tank top, sans bra.

  I gulp, taking in the outline of her perky nipples underneath the tank.

  Does she wear this shit every night?

  Or is she still trying to break me down and convince me to give this casual sex offer a go?

  “You can’t sleep either?” I ask.

  She’s been slammed since we landed in LA this afternoon. We met with a friend of Willow’s who’s going to work part-time for Stella until she returns. The next stop was yoga class, which I thought would be a boring occasion, but it surprisingly was exciting. Seeing Stella in the downward dog position made my dick hard and showed me another one of her incredible traits. She’s flexible as fuck, which is a plus in so many ways in the bedroom. We met her agent for dinner, and I listened to them talk about new show prospects.

  A long day for Stella.

  A boring as fuck one for me.

  How did Dallas manage to go through this every day and not lose his mind?

  “Unfortunately,” she answers. “The stupid after-parties have my sleep schedule all out of whack.” Her thick hair is pulled into two tight French braids that start at her crown and show off her high cheekbones.

  I pat the chair next to me. “Good. Join the club.”

  Her full lips pinch together. “Good?”

  “Yes, good, because not only can you keep me company, you can also make that weird, voodoo, puts you to sleep tea you swear by.” I’m more excited about the company than the tea.

  She throws her hands up in fake excitement. “Yay for me.”

  My eyes are trained to her as she moves around the kitchen to grab the teapot. I should offer to help, but I’m having too much fun watching her. Her top rises, giving me a glimpse of the bottom curves of her breasts, and my dick swells when she lifts up to grab the mugs from the top shelf of the cabinet.

  I shift around in my seat, trying to talk my arousal down. She’s here to make tea, not give me a boner. I promised myself to keep this professional, but the way she’s swaying her hips while filling the pot is making me question my decision again.

  I close my eyes and try to think of something else, but that only lasts a few seconds before they’re wide open again, staring at her. I need to stop. I can’t make our situation complicated because I’m going back to my normal life soon while she stays here in hers.

  Normal life.

  I laugh to myself. My life will never go back to the normal one I had in Blue Beech. There will be adjustments to make when I get home. I’m hoping another scandal has broken out that’ll make people forget about Cameron fucking around on me. I don’t want the stares of pity. I’m also going to have to pull in some of my anger toward Grady, so I don’t punch him whenever we run into each other.

  The perks of living in a small town.

  I still prefer it to this LA shit. The traffic sucks.
It takes hours to get anywhere, and the sidewalks are packed with women who look like they spent hours getting ready to get a kale smoothie. They had full faces of makeup at the gym.

  “This might be completely out of left field,” Stella starts to say, breaking me away from my thoughts. “But don’t you think everything going on with us is weird?”

  I have no idea what she’s talking about. “What’s weird?”

  “Willow doesn’t know if Brett is ever going to be the same. Dallas isn’t sure how long he has left with Lucy. I feel like we have this cloud of death lingering over us, and we’re waiting to see what tragedy happens fist.”

  Thinking about losing Lucy is a punch to the gut. It won’t only kill Dallas and Maven. It’ll obliterate our entire family. She’s been a constant in our lives for years. It’s become an unnamed tradition that us Barnes boys tend to stay with our high-school sweethearts and make a family. My parents did it. My grandparents did it. Dallas did it. Most of the other families in town do it. Those who do seem to be the happiest couples I know.

  “I try not to look at it as we’re waiting for Lucy to die,” I say. “We’re staying positive. Being a pessimist doesn’t help the situation.”

  “I don’t think I’m pessimistic. I’m just thinking about real life. It’s never easy. Bad shit always happens. You’ll never get through life unscathed.”

  Her answer hits a sensitive spot.

  “Don’t ever give up hope,” I say. “You never know, both of them might make it through this standing tall. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my line of work, it’s to never count anyone out until they’re in a casket and someone is giving their eulogy. I’ve witnessed people lose their limbs. I’ve seen injuries so severe I thought they’d never see their families again, but you know what? They did. They survived because they were strong and badass fighters who knew they had an entire life ahead of them. Sure, their lives may never be the same, but they’re alive. They’re waking up with their family. They’re seeing the sunshine. Anything is possible. Without hope, you have nothing.”

  I close my eyes, recalling the memories and flashbacks of all the good and bad things I’ve seen throughout my career. Some of them I’ll never get over. You don’t forget seeing someone take their last breath.

  My eyes open to find Stella at my side with a look on her face much different than when I shut them. Her dark eyes are glossy as she pulls out the chair next to mine and carefully takes my hand in hers. I flinch at first but don’t pull away, which is what I should do.

  “Sorry, what I said was completely insensitive,” she whispers. “I’m sure that was hard on you, never knowing what would happen day by day, or what you were walking into.”

  She has no idea. No one does unless you’ve lived it. Pain is building in the back of my throat, in my heart, in my mind. Memories can be the scariest motherfuckers to haunt you at night.

  She blows out a tortured breath before going on. “You’re brave. I could never do anything like that. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking that job … and this one. No offense to your brother, but I’ve never felt safer than what I do with you.” She holds our hands up and lightly brushes her soft lips against our connection.

  It takes me a few seconds to regain control of myself. I don’t want these wounds ripped open. I’ve tried my hardest to bury them, but somehow Stella keeps digging deeper and deeper, forcing herself in. She’s committed herself to discovering every component of me, whether I like it or not. This insane woman is getting closer and closer to my heart, and the harder I fight, the harder she does.

  I clear my throat before bringing up our hands, pressing my lips to them like she had. “Trust me, it’s not easy. But I knew what I was getting into. I knew the possible outcome of going to another country and fighting. I think the both of us knew the outcomes could’ve been bad when we chose our line of work.”

  She sighs when the teapot whistles through the air, and I place a hand on her arm to stop her from sliding out of her chair.

  “Let me do it,” I say.

  I bring myself up when she nods and take the teapot off the heat. I’ve never made hot tea before, but it can’t be that difficult.

  “You’re right about both of us knowing the risks in our jobs, but I’d say yours is much more intense. I get lack of privacy, a few stalkers here and there, and people busting my ass about obligations. You get life or death, or possibly the loss of a limb. You do something so damn important, Hudson, and I wish they gave you more credit for it. I hate the way Tillie, Eli, all of them look as if you’re beneath them, even though you’re the real MVP.”

  I can’t help but crack a smile, and she returns it in delight that she’s hitting me where I never wanted to be cracked. She manages to bring out the light in me in even the worst times. Talking about this with someone is out of character for me. I’ve kept what I’ve seen, what I’ve gone through, to myself, allowing it to tear me apart from the inside.

  Cameron grilled me with question after question when I got home from my first deployment. She wanted to know if I saw anyone die, if children actually walked the streets with homemade explosives strapped to their bodies, or if we spent our days doing nothing but playing around. She asked these questions as if I’d just gotten home from a banker’s job.

  I needed her to help me heal, but she only wanted to take me back down that road. She didn’t understand. She only saw it as me shutting her out. I didn’t want to release those internal demons on her or anyone else, so they stayed holed up inside of me, burying themselves into my veins, and I’ll live with them forever.

  Stella gets up when she notices my hands start to shake while I pour the water into the mugs.

  “Here,” she says, taking it from me. She nudges her shoulder against mine. “I’m the tea master, so you better sit down and let the pro do her magic.”

  I give her a smile, one that’s not forced, and do what she says. Stella is different. She cares. She respects me enough to not ask for the gruesome details. She’s waiting for me to feel comfortable to release them on my own.

  “Why did you join the military?” she asks, sliding my drink to me.

  “You know, I’m not exactly sure. My grandfather served in Vietnam. My dad served. My family is big on tradition. One of my father’s children needed to serve. I knew Dallas wasn’t interested, and I’d never want to put that pressure on my sister, so I decided to take on the job. Another big push for me was what was happening in our country. I don’t want to get political, but shit is fucked up. Innocent people have been dying for years.”

  She raises her cup. “I’ll give an amen to that.” She hops back on her chair and starts to sip on her drink, her full lips curving around the edge of the cup.

  “Why did you decide to be Clementine?”

  She squeals, grinning from ear to ear like I told her she won the lottery, and the mood has lifted. Tea splashes from my cup when she smacks me on the shoulder.

  “Oh my god!”

  I look around in confusion. “What?”

  “You’ve been watching my show, haven’t you?”

  Fuck! I’m busted.

  Stella had me too drowned in my feelings that I wasn’t thinking about hiding that I’ve been secretly watching her show every night.

  She smacks my shoulder again when I take a long drink without answering her. “Don’t you dare lie to me.”

  I shake my head, my mouth still in my cup. “No. I’ve heard the name from Dallas.”

  “Oh, whatever, you’ve either been looking me up or watching. Which one is it?”

  I set the cup down. There’s nothing wrong with doing my research. “I was curious about who I was spending so much time with, so I watched a few episodes when I was bored.”

  She rests her hand against her chest and sways from side to side. “Hudson likes me, he really likes me,” she sings out before pointing to me. “You shall never live this down. I’m beginning to think we might be getting closer than we
thought we would. I have a feeling sex will be in our near future.”

  I decide to play along, even though I’m thinking the same thing. “I must say Clementine grew out of her dorky phase into one fine as hell chick.”

  She laughs. “You are so lame.”

  Fifteen

  Stella

  My phone ringing interrupts our conversation. Willow’s face pops up on the screen, and I try to answer so quickly I nearly drop it. As much as I want to continue this flirtatious conversation with Hudson, there’s no way I’m missing her call. Something was wrong with her earlier, and I’ve been waiting to talk to her again. If she’s calling this late, something is wrong.

  I’m dreading whatever it is as I tap the Accept button.

  “Hey girl,” I answer, trying to sound upbeat.

  “Hey,” she says, sniffling.

  Code Red. Code Red. Just what I thought.

  “What’s going on?” I rush out, my fake giddiness now disintegrated. I tuck the phone between my ear and shoulder.

  There’s a moment of silence, and I hold my breath for the news.

  “Brett is awake and seems to be coherent,” she finally tells me.

  I exhale, confusion rushing through me. “That’s great! It’s a start, right?” I glance over to see Hudson’s attention fixed on me.

  “It is,” she mutters. “I mean, I’m glad he’s okay. He’s recovering from a concussion, so he’ll be in the hospital for a while. They’re planning to perform facial reconstruction, but he’s responsive and seems to have regained most of his memory.”

  Maybe her sniffles are sniffles of happiness.

  “Good. I’m happy for you, Willow.”

  “He also decided he doesn’t want to be with me anymore.”

  “What?” I yell louder than necessary.

  Her sniffles turn into sobs. “He said his near death experience woke him up.” She scoffs. “Literally. Apparently, he wants to live his life and not be tied down. Settling is no longer an option for him.” Her sobs turn into anger, and I wish I could wrap her in a tight hug and then take away Brett’s cable TV in the hospital. “Disloyal son of a bitch. He’s been living his life the way he’s wanted for years. For fucking years, Stella! I stood by his cheating, no good ass every single damn day!”