She was going to leave.
Why does that feel like a sucker punch to my gut?
Maddie managed to stay awake for all of the third movie but fell asleep only a few minutes into the fourth one. She climbed into my bed, and unlike last night, she didnât leave any space between us. And after only a few minutes, her head rested on my shoulder, but she was awake this time.
I guess our moment in the kitchen changed something.
Because when Maddieâs hands reached out for me . . . when she grabbed my shirt, whether she realized it or not, she pulled me toward her. She wasnât trying to prove a point. She wasnât convincing herself she could touch me without flinching or pulling away. There was a connection, and she needed it as much as I did.
The want in her eyes didnât escape me.
It was there, pulsing between us. Need recognizing need.
But Iâm not an asshole, even if I like the world to think I am.
Iâd never take advantage of her, and thatâs what it would have been.
Taking. Especially in that moment, when she was vulnerable.
So I walked away. I knew I needed time to get my shit together before I did something neither of us was ready for. Not yet. Not after tonight. Not with the fight a week away. I need to focus, and Iâm pretty sure my little ball of sunshine is going to need some time to figure things out on her own. She doesnât like to be pushed. I already know that.
But seeing her packed up and ready to leave didnât work for me.
This right here . . . her in my arms. This is what I needed, and judging by how quickly she relaxes against me, so did she.
Whether she realizes it or not.
Something about this is different than it was last night. I give it a few minutes after she falls asleep before I turn the TV off and roll us both over. With my arms wrapped around her, she snuggles in like thatâs exactly where sheâs meant to be, wiggles her perfect little ass right up against my dick, and sighs.
I swear to God, her fucking sighs do me in.
Weâre spooning.
. Maddie might be the inexperienced one, but I wonder what sheâd think if she knew Iâve never done this before. Any of this. I donât sleep with women. We fuck. They leave. Occasionally, I leave. Itâs the only way it works.
Women have always wanted something from me.
More than Iâm willing to give.
Maybe they want to say theyâve slept with a fighter or a champion.
Or they want to take their shot with a Kingston.
Those women donât even care which Kingston, they just want our name and what comes with it. But not Maddie. Sheâs never wanted anything from me before tonight. And yet, sheâs the first woman Iâve ever considered giving everything to.
âMmm . . . Hud?â Her sleepy voice soothes my quickly spiraling mind, and I press my lips to the top of her head.
âSleep, Mads. Iâve got you.â
âMmm . . .â She rolls over so her face is buried in my chest, and those long lashes kiss her cheeks. Sheâs basically asleep and probably wonât remember this in the morning, but I tuck her against me anyway and close my eyes. âI like that.â
So do I, Maddie. So do I.
Sunday morning, I wake up to an empty bed and a pit in my stomach.
If she left this house without saying so much as a goodbye, she better get used to my hands on her fucking body because Iâm going to spank her ass and then fuck her until she begs me to let her come. Goddammit. The whole rule doesnât usually bother me, but this time . . . This time, itâs wreaking fucking havoc on my life. A quick look at the clock and I know exactly where my little ball of sunshine is, and ten minutes later, when I find her in front of the television watching the Philly Kings game taking place in London, I smile, knowing I was right.
Her blonde hair is damp and hanging down over a black-and-gold Kings jersey, with stitched in gold across the back and the number 66 beneath it. Judging by the way it swallows her small body, itâs obvious sheâs wearing one of her brotherâs old jerseys, not something she bought from the store. Sheâs got a needle in her hand but doesnât take her eyes away from the screen until they flash to a commercial.
Iâm not sure if I should walk back out and give her space or let her know Iâm here, but Maddie takes my choice away when she turns her head to me. âHey. Sorry. I didnât want to wake you up, but there was no way I was missing this game.â
She lifts the jersey and stabs herself with the needle before laying it down on the coffee table, and I have to lean against the couch. âAre you okay? You donât get queasy about needles, do you?â
I groan because yes . . . Yes, I kinda do. âTheyâre not my favorite thing, but Iâm fine. I always wondered why you donât have one of those pump things Iâve seen. Wouldnât that be easier?â
âWe tried that a few years ago, but I had a reaction to it, and honestly, Iâm so used to this, it doesnât bother me.â She picks up a piece of avocado toast. âWant a bite?â
I shake my head.
Maddie shrugs and takes a bite. âHow are you feeling? Do you think youâll be okay to go back to training tomorrow?â
âIâll be fine tomorrow. Iâm going to make a protein shake. You want one?â
The game comes back on, and she turns back around, effectively ignoring me and letting me know where I rank when her brother is on TV.
And now, I sound like a butt-hurt teenager.
I need to get back in the gym.
Hudson watches most of the game with me, which makes sense. His family owns the team. But I feel like heâs watching more than the game, and itâs a little unnerving. Especially considering the way last night ended and today started.
It wasnât that I was in his bed.
It wasnât even that I was in his arms, although I wouldâve thought that would be an issue.
Nope.
The issue is that I liked it.
The issue is that I craved it.
Craved him.
The issue at the heart of it all is that last night was the first time Iâd fought with anyone in so many years that I couldnât remember the last time Iâd done it. The last time I got mad enough to argue. To yell. To take that risk. Because I donât do that. When youâre always worried about being shipped off to the next house, you quickly learn to be flexible. To be easygoing and to never argue.
Iâve had disagreements with Daphne over the years, but weâve never actually argued about anything because there was never an issue important enough for me to take that chance. But last night . . . that was important. Because this man is important to me.
And that realization knocks me on my butt, almost as much as the realization that I feel safe with him. That after all these years, I was finally able to let down my carefully constructed walls long enough to let anyone in and fight with them.
No. Not just anyone.
Hudson.
Even when I woke up this morning, it was different. I didnât freak out when I felt his arms around me. I stayed there, soaking it in for a few minutes before I forced myself out of his bed, equal parts shocked and disappointed.
Shocked because I slept through an entire night wrapped in his arms.
Disappointed because itâs over.
Iâm going home after this game, and weâre going back to the way it was before.
Itâs for the best. Hudson is still Hudson, and Iâm still me. We donât work.
But that doesnât make it suck any less.
It might have actually made the whole thing worse. Because I got a tiny little taste of normal. For a few hours, I wasnât broken. But as Brandonâs team celebrates their win on the big screen TV, I know my is ending.
âGuess Iâll head home now.â I stand, disappointed but determined. âIâve already got my bags packed, and youâre obviously feeling better.â I try to step away, but Hudson gently grabs my wrist. His thumb rests over my wildly beating pulse.
âI am feeling better, Mads. But they still havenât found whoever broke into the gym. Why donât you stay here for another night?â I donât pull away. I donât flinch at his touch, and that, by itself, feels like a win.
His bottomless blue eyes hold me captive, tempting me to agree. But one more night wonât change anything. âIâve got to get myself ready for the week, Hud. Iâve got to do laundry and figure out my schedule. And youâve got to train. You have a fight in less than a week.â With a pit in my stomach, I take a step back.
A blank mask falls over his face as he stands. âLet me get my shoes on, and Iâll grab your bags.â
âIâve got them. Theyâre not heavy.â But by the time I get the last word out, Hudson is gone, and Iâm left standing there with a sinking feeling.
Maybe I imagined it.
Maybe there wasnât anything between us. Hudâs always been a flirt. I guess thatâs all it was . . . flirting. Because he doesnât do serious. Maybe itâs for the best.
Cinder doesnât leave my side once she and I walk through the front door of our house. Itâs like sheâs out of sorts after only spending a few short days at Hudsonâs. Like she misses him.
When an incoming FaceTime rings on my MacBook later that night, Iâm surprised to see Daphneâs face on my screen but more surprised it took her so long to call. âHey, D. Whatâs up?â She leans forward, and her giant, pregnant boobs almost pop out of her tank top. âHoly heck, Daphne. Put them away before they poke my eyes out.â
Max steps up behind his wife and leans over her shoulder. âBlasphemy, Madison. She should never put them away. Howâs my brother doing?â
Daphne throws her elbow back into Maxâs side. âHush, you. Donât go hijacking my conversation.â
âDid you really step in between Hudson and another fighter last night, Mads?â Daphne sits back, and Max kneads her shoulders until she moans.
âOh my God. No moaning, D. Just no,â I groan. âAnd I didnât step in between them so much as I stood in front of Hudson.â
âMadison,â Max snaps. âNever put yourself between two people who look like theyâre about to fight. Especially when one of them is Hudson. He can handle himself.â
I keep that thought to myself, though, and nod my head and watch as Max walks away with Daphne watching his ass the whole time. âUmm . . . D? Do you want to go jump your husband? We can talk later.â
She spins around with a sheepish grin on her face. âNope. Iâll do that later. For now, I want to hear about what happened after you left Kingdom last night. Because according to Becket, Hudson looked like he was either going to fuck you or fight you, and you donât look bruised, Mads.â
Her entire face lights up, and she shifts on the chair. âOhh . . . unless your vagina is bruised. Those are the best bruises,â she adds wistfully, and I know my face just flushed fifty shades of red.
âNo. We didnât . . . It wasnât like that . . . exactly.â Oh my God. Why do I get so tongue-tied talking about this?
âDetails, please,â Daphne insists.
âHe was mad at me for getting in the way. Worried I would get hurt. We argued, and it was heated, but Hudson would never lay a hand on me. I donât honestly think the thought would ever even cross his mind.â I remember the way his hands held my face, and I swear to God, I can still feel them there.
Daphne giggles. âWhat is that?â she asks as she points at her screen.
âWhat?â I ask, growing self-conscious.
âThatâs the second time your face has gone red in the last two minutes. Spill it, sister.â
âNothing happened, D. But . . .â I run my top teeth over my bottom lip, deciding what I want to tell her. It feels weird, like Iâm somehow betraying something precious by talking about last night. âThere was something there. Something Iâm not ready to talk about yet.â
âOkay,â she agrees immediately, and I cock my head and stare at her.
âThatâs it? Youâre not going to push?â
âWhen Max and I first got together, you trusted me. You didnât push, and I needed that to figure things out on my own. So, Iâm here when youâre ready to talk.â
âThanks, D. Talk soon, okay?â She blows me a kiss, and I close my laptop.
Iâm done working for the night and have plotted out my schedule for the week.
Iâve meal-prepped, done my laundry, scheduled a few meetings, and cleaned the house, even though Brandonâs cleaning lady will be here Tuesday. Keeping busy was the only thing keeping me close to sane today.
The doorbell rings, and I look at the clock.
Who the heck is here at eight oâclock at night?
After a quick peek through the peephole, I yank the door open. âHudson? What the heck are you doing here?â
Hud stands on the other side of the door, looking handsome as ever in his black sweats and matching hoodie with a lopsided grin tugging at his lips that vanishes as his eyes sweep over me.
âMads . . . What are you wearing?â The snow that started falling a few hours ago looks beautiful as it frames him against the light of the house.
I reach forward and grab his arm, pulling him inside and slamming the door shut. âItâs freezing outside. Letâs keep the cold air out there, okay?â Hud stares at me with wide eyes, and I tilt my head down to confirm I still have my clothes on. âIâm wearing clothes. What are you talking about? Youâve seen me in less than this when Iâm teaching in the gym.â
âTell me youâre wearing pants under that,â Hudson practically growls his words through clenched teeth.
I lift my oversized Crucible t-shirt to show him the plaid boxers hiding underneath. âIâm wearing shorts, you moron. And my socks go up to my freaking knees. Whatâs the big deal?â
He swallows and looks away before answering, âNot a big deal.â Then he walks into my house like he owns the place, looks around for a minute, and stops at the bottom of the steps, where Cinder winds her way through his legs and flicks her tail at him. âCome on.â
âCome where?â Iâm so confused.
âLock the door, Madison. Set the alarm, and letâs go to bed.â
I blink at him a few times, wondering if I hit my head at some point between ending my call with Daphne and answering the door. âYou donât live here, Hudson.â Despite that, I lock the door and set the alarm, just like he ordered me to, then pad over to him. âWhy are you here?â
âIâve got to meet Coop for a run before the sun even comes up tomorrow, but I need to know what happens in the next movie. I turned it off last night after you fell asleep. So, I figured we could watch it in your room . . . at least until you pass out. Because letâs face it, these may be your favorite movies, but they put you to sleep.â Hudson says this so matter-of-factly, I stare at him, stunned, for another minute before it dawns on me that Iâm relieved heâs here.
So instead of overthinking it, I turn off the downstairs light, take the manâs hand, and lead him upstairs. When we step into my room, I look at my bed, then back at Hudson, whose huge presence manages to suck all the oxygen from the room. âItâs only a queen. Are you even going to fit?â
He kicks off his sneakers and pulls his hoodie over his head. It brings his white undershirt up his chest, and my eyes take the opportunity to soak in those gloriously defined abs before he yanks it back down. âYup.â He moves to the opposite side of my bed and pulls back my comforter. âIâd have figured you for a pink girl, Mads.â
My blanket is a pale blue with beautiful golden thread woven through it. I found it at a farmersâ market a few years ago and splurged on it immediately. âWell, youâd have figured wrong then, King. I donât like pink.â I pick up my phone to plug it into the charger, then look across the bed. âIs your phone charged?â
âYeah. Itâs good. Iâll just set my alarm. Iâve gotta get out of here early.â
I grab a piece of paper and jot down the alarm code so he can get out in the morning, completely ignoring how strange this is and just going with how happy I am to see him.
Yeah . . . Iâm going to have to examine that fact a little harder tomorrow.
For now, I grab the remote and turn off the light as I crawl into bed, not even bothering to act like Iâm trying to stay on my side of the bed. Iâm proud of myself when I embrace the urge to sit next to him and donât revert to needing space.
Hudson lifts his arm like itâs the most natural thing in the world, and I look at him, wondering what it is that makes me trust him not to hurt me. Whatâs different about him from every other man Iâve ever met in my life?
âYou gonna leave me hanging, Mads?â His smile lights up his entire face, and my heart skips a beat.
I slide into him and turn the TV on as I yawn.
Pretty sure Iâll never make it to the battle at the end of the movie.
But thatâs okay. I feel like I might actually be winning my own battle tonight.