I wish I could say that more happened that first night in Pasadena, but Taylor's comment was the climax.
After I stared at him speechless for what felt like five minutes, I yawned. And then yawned again. Which caused Taylor to yawn, and suggest that we get some sleep, that it was a long day.
As much as I wanted to continue our conversation, I had to admit that I was exhausted. And when I was exhausted, I tended to say things that wide-awake me would never dream of sharing.
So, essentially, me being tired was the equivalent of others being drunk.
Taylor got off the chair, stretched, used the washroom briefly, wished me goodnight, and then left the room.
As soon as he left my vision, my eyes wanted to make like the door and shut. But it was one of those frustrating nights where despite my exhaustion, sleep wouldn't come easily. This tended to happen on nights where I wrote an exam earlier that day, or when I stayed up extra late on my computer watching talent show audition fails; nights where you'd think I'd fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. At first, I thought it was because I was in a different bedâTaylor's old bedâwhen I had really only slept in one bed, metaphorically, my whole life. But then I had the constant feeling of having to pee, even though every trip to the washroom just resulted in a trickle.
I forced myself to lay as still as I could, as if to convince my mind that my body was asleep. That didn't work, because my mind was very much aware that every fibre of my body was awake and humming. Traces of excitement from the night were still flowing in my veins. There was also some adrenaline from my anxiety attack swimming in there as well.
Taylor's bed was small. There were only so many times I could toss and turn before I got motion sickness.
When I been laying there for an hour, according to my near-constant checking of my phone, I decided to take a walk and stretch my legs.
Yeah. Even I wasn't convinced by that. What I really wanted to do was sneak away to the den to see if Taylor was awake.
I thought about texting him, but I didn't know if he was one of those people who slept with their phone on "loud". I'd hate for the ping from my text to wake the whole house up.
My sock-covered feet didn't make noise against the carpeted floor, but I was still careful to not knock into anything. The den was easy to findâit was the room closest to the stairsâand Taylor was even easier to spot. There was one couch in the room, and it was arranged perpendicular to the door. Thankfully, Taylor's feet were perched on the end closest to me so I could see his face on the other side.
His sleeping face.
Sure, no lights were on and it was dark, but it wasn't pitch black. I could easily make out his long, lean body which took up the entirety of the couch, arm to arm. Taylor didn't snore, but his breathing was heavier than normal. He had one arm bent supporting his head and the other lay near his shirtless, blanket-less side.
Holy. How was thatâthe fact that he was only clad in his black boxer briefsânot the first thing I noticed? Probably because I was so preoccupied with seeing if he was awake.
Okay. I found out what I came for. I didn't want to extend my visit and be disrespectful and watch someone sleep without them knowing.
(Sorry, Edward. No offense.)
As I turned back, Mark was coming down the stairs with a glass of water in his hand. When he saw me just standing there, in the middle of the hall, in the damn dark, it was evident he was shocked, but he composed himself, nodded kindly, then went back to his room. I had briefly thought about sprinting back to the room so that I wasn't visible, or at least darting further into the den. I ended up just standing there, probably because the chances of getting caught were too high either way and I'd rather not be seen running like a victim in a horror movie.
Once I was tucked back into Taylor's bed, sleep wasn't too far off. Hallelujah.
Unfortunately, it wasn't the most restful of sleeps, and that, combined with my late bedtime, made me the last person in the Hudson house to get up the next morning.
When I woke up, it was a little before ten, which wasn't a crazy time to get up, especially for a holiday, but I wasn't even up and at'em. I was still groggy. I had a text message from Taylor waiting for me.
Taylor: Sleepy head, you weren't lying when you said you could sleep. We're already up. When you're ready, come join us for breakfast. Take your time. (But not too much time. If you're not up before noon, I'll come down with a hose)
That made me smile and it was the only message I had. Good to know that my family was thinking about me.
I figured I had already wasted enough of Taylor's morning, so I made sure that I was fully ready when I went to the kitchen. Thankfully, no one made any comments about my sleeping in. I'm not sure why they would, but I guess I was a little self-conscious about it. I was sleeping more now than when I was a teenager.
When I walked in, Mark and James were at the table eating and reading different sections of the newspaper. Sofia was standing near the pancake gridle and Taylor was leaning against the counter, "helping" her. They all smiled at me as soon as they noticed me at the threshold.
"Good morning honey. That colour looks so cute on you!" Sofia said, pointing the spatula in my direction.
I smiled. I liked the sheer, soft yellow button blouse I was wearing.
"Too bad that's the closest thing we're going to get to the sun today," Mark said, looking up from the sports pages. "It's supposed to be cloudy all day."
So much for Taylor's promise of great weather. I took that back. It still had to be warmer than Winnipeg.
As I ate a sunny-side-up egg, a pancake, and a few pieces of bacon, Taylor suggested that we go to the mall, because of the overcast sky.
Fine by me.
He had waited for me to start eating his breakfastâI told him he didn't have to do thatâand he ate more than double the amount I did, so I ended up having to wait for him to finish.
We brought our dishes to the sink and I insisted on doing them.
Sofia kicked us out.
"How'd you sleep?" Taylor asked as we strolled through the mall.
He had asked me if I had a preference of which mall we went to, and I didn't. Obviously, I wasn't familiar with any of them and there was no particular American-only store I wanted to visit. So, I told him that whichever was closest would be fine.
"Okay, I guess," I answered. "I had a hard time falling asleep, and then once I did, I still tossed and turned a lot. That always happens to me, though. How about you?"
Taylor gave me a guilty expression. "I slept right through."
"I know."
Shit. If it wasn't for the cock in Taylor's eyebrow, I probably wouldn't have even realized what I just admitted.
"I mean, I figured. Because you got up so early."
Taylor wasn't stupid, so I took his silent nod as him letting the situation go, rather than him believing what I said. Because even to me it sounded dumb.
"Do you mind if we go into that store, right there?" I asked, nodding in the direction of a sports apparel shop. "My brother asked me to get him a special edition LA hat," I lied.
"Yeah, sure."
Taylor's large stature wasn't that out of place in the sports store, but it was still clear that he was the only real athlete in the store.
Fine. Professional. All athletes are real.
Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, I tried to separate myself from Taylor. He had become enamored with a new training shoe and I took that as an opportunity to move farther and farther away from him.
"Hi there! Can I help you find anything?"
I turned to the young, enthusiastic employee, nodding my head. "Yeah, you can, actually. Do you have the new Taylor Hudson cap? The one with the Storm logo?"
"Yes, certainly! Just got in a new shipment!"
I couldn't help but wince at how chipper and loud her voice was. Clearly, she didn't take my soft, almost-whispered tone as a clue.
When she went off to get the hat, I checked over my shoulder. Thankfully, Taylor was still near the front of the store.
"Here you are!"
"Thank you so much!"
I took the cap from her hands. The price tag stood out like it had flashing lights around it. $49.98 American.
Yeah, my brother owed me. Big time.
Now I just needed to pay for it and shove it in a bag and no one's the wiser.
"What you got there?"
Jesus, Taylor.
Now I didn't see him, and now I did.
I had just turned to find where the cash was located and there he was...Jesus.
But all that plotting and sleuthingâokay, it wasn't that muchâhad become irrelevant because Taylor saw the cap.
His eyes went from simply curious to wide and knowing.
"Why didn't you tell me you were going to buy that?"
"Why didn't you tell me you were going to make this?" I countered.
At least he had the decency to look sheepish.
"A huge sports apparel company reached out to you, Taylor, about creating a custom Winnipeg Storm hat. And I find out from my brother?"
"I know, sorry," he said, sighing softly and turning his head to the side. "But it's such a non-normal thing that I felt weird talking about it. Besides, right now it's only available in California, where the company is based. I was going to tell you once it was available in Winnipeg."
Sure he was.
"I know it's only available here. That's why I was given very explicit instructions from Thomas to buy it while I was here. Because in his words, 'who knows when it will come out at home.'"
Taking a break from reaming Taylor out, I looked at the hat. It had his number, initials, and the Storm logo, but it was very distinct from all the official Winnipeg storm merchandise. Pretty cool, indeed.
"Sorry," Taylor said. Again.
"Don't worry about it," I said, softening up. "Let me just pay for this and then we'll get out of here."
"No, the least I could do is pay. I know it's expensive, I didn't have a say in the price."
"No. You can't pay for your own merchandise. That's like....like merchandise masturbation."
Right there in the store, Taylor erupted into laugher. "I swear, Camille, I have no idea where you come up with this shit, but it's so damn funny."
Glad someone appreciated it. If I said something like that in front of my mom, I'd be reprimanded for being 'inappropriate.'
In the end, Taylor paid for the hat. He said the brand had given him a certain number of free hats and that he hadn't purchased any of them yet. All he had to do was hand in the receipt and he'd get the money back.
I wasn't sure if he was being legit, but I didn't have the energy to question it.
Standing there in line for the cash, a dull pain started at the back of my head.
Right on.
It was most likely the beginning of a headache, brought on by the overcast weather. Trust me, weather headaches are a thing.
"You okay?" Taylor asked as he watched me ease the tension out of the base of my head.
"Yeah, I just feel a headache forming."
"Shoot. I think there's a drugstore in here. We can get some Advil?"
I shook my head, then immediately regretted it. "I think I'm okay for now. I'm sure it'll pass."
At least I hoped it would.
"Once we're done here we can grab something to eat. Maybe food will help."
I nodded. It had been a few hours since we had breakfast and being hungry never did anything good for a headache.
"The food court has some pretty good options," Taylor said as we walked out of the store. "But just so you know, my dad and uncle are making barbeque tonight, so you might not want to get a hamburger."
"Sounds good."
There were numerous options availableâmore than I had ever seen in a mall's food courtâbut based on Taylor's recommendation, I got a bagel from an Artisan-style bakery. He ordered a monstrous sandwich, whereas I was perfectly okay with plain, buttered sourdough.
We managed to find a two-seater near the bakery. As soon as I sat down in my seat, I whipped out my travel-sized bottle of hand sanitizer.
"Good call," Taylor commented.
"I never leave home without it. I don't think I could eat in public without using it."
I let Taylor use it first. Then I happily bit into my bagel. My headache was growing worse by the moment and I was desperate for some relief.
"Tonight's New Year's Eve," Taylor said suddenly.
I finished chewing my bite of bagel.
"Oh yeah, it is. I forgot, to be honest."
With my arrival in California the previous day seeming like such a big event in my life, New Year's Eve just fell off the wagon.
"What do you usually do for it?" I asked.
Taylor shrugged. "Nothing, really. I guess it depends where I am that year. But I typically don't think of it as a big deal. What about you?"
God. I wished he didn't ask. It's for this reason that I've really come to hate the stupid holiday. I never do anything special, which makes me feel like a loser.
"I don't do anything either. I've always just stayed in with my parents. Usually we'd watch the Rockin' Eve show but last year we stopped, because my mom and I both admitted how much we hared it. We just ended up watching Hallmark channel movies."
"That actually sounds pretty good."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. You don't need anyone else to tell you when to have a 'special' night. Just do what you want."
Taylor made it all sound so simple. Most of the time, I did have an easy time doing what I wanted. Things got difficult, however, when I let the opinions of what others think I should want get in the way.
"Yeah. This is actually one of the only times Angela and I aren't on the same page. Every year her and her mom go to some bar her mom has an in with."
"That's a little odd."
I made a face of agreement as I polished off the rest of the bagel. Taylor had finished his sandwich as well, but neither of us made any effort to get up.
"Will your parents do anything special tonight?"
"Nah. They're not too big into it either. I don't even think my parents are even capable of staying up past midnight. My uncle probably could, though."
Yeah. That would explain why he'd be getting a glass of water during the middle of the night.
"But while you were still sleeping my dad mentioned wanting to build a small fire in the backyard tonight. It's supposed to be clear. We may even roast a few marshmallows."
"Sounds fun."
"How's your head feeling?"
"Still bad." Actually, it was much worse. "Do you mind if I take an Advil and then a nap when we get back? Maybe sleeping will help."
I felt stupid needing to sleep after waking up so late, but my head needed it.
"Yeah, of course. You don't even have to ask."
Neither the nap nor the painkiller helped.
I had slept for almost three hours on the couch in the basement den; the very one that Taylor had slept on the night before. He brought me a pillow and a blanket that I could use and it was like both his scent and the fleece blanket surrounded me.
There was another couch in the room, one that I hadn't noticed the night before. It was on the other side of the room, but Taylor wheeled it over so that it was close to the one I was on.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Might as well take a nap, as well."
"You're tired?"
"I'm okay. But I'd feel bad leaving you here by yourself."
My head nodded the smallest nod in thanks.
"I hope your headache goes away."
Too bad his hope was in vain. My headache most certainly did not go away. When Taylor gently roused me from sleep a few hours later, it still felt like there was an axe trying to split the back of my head in two.
"Still bad?" Taylor grimaced.
So it was that obvious.
"The barbecue's almost ready. Do you want to come outside? We'll all understand if you don't want to."
No. I couldn't do that to him. Or his family. These people were being so kind to me and cooking for me and taking care of me. The least I could do was grace themselves with my presence.
"Head still hurting, Camille?" James asked as we stepped into the backyard. He was working the grill and was closest to us.
"Yeah, but it should be better soon."
"Come sit down here, Camille," Sofia said. She was sitting on a patio chair next to her brother-in-law. Her voice was quieter than usual and I felt my heart swell at the knowledge that she was keeping her volume low for me. "Taylor will fix you a plate with whatever you want."
Taylor and I took seats opposite from Sofia and Mark. The food wasn't ready just yet so Taylor was still off duty.
Thankfully, this family from heaven spoke in hushed tones and didn't ask me any tough questions. I didn't have the brain power to think of intelligent, coherent responses, but I was happy to be there.
Even as I quietly ate the plain hamburger with ketchup and potato chips that Taylor brought me, I still felt engaged in the conversation. It was obvious that they were speaking for my benefit. They shared stories about when Taylor was younger, when they knew he had potential to be an NHL player, and how they deal with him being gone so much.
Mark was in the middle of telling us about how Taylor was the best one on the ice even when he was on a team of older kids when I shivered.
"Cold?" Taylor whispered.
Goosebumps covered my forearms, underneath my thin shirt.
"Yeah, just a little."
"Did you bring a sweater?"
I thought back to what I packed in my suitcase the week before.
"No, nothing that warm."
"Okay, I'll be back."
I swallowed and watched him retreat back into the house. If he came back with one of his own sweaters, I wasn't sure what I'd do. Wearing that would feel so intimate, and I'm not sure if I'd want his family to see that. Maybe he'd bring one of his mom's things.
No.
It was his. I could tell immediately because of the large size and the United States National Development Program logo on the front.
I narrowed my eyes at him as I pulled on the sweater with the skates and the American flag.
"Tonight, you're American."
"Thanks, for the sweater. When my head's not hurting so much, we can debate about Canada vs the States."
He laughed. "Sure."
Once we had all finished eating, Sofia cleared our plates and the guys rearranged the patio chairs around the fire pit in the middle of the grass. I wanted to help, but everyone simultaneously told me to just relax.
It was a little scary.
For some reason, James and Mark weren't able to get the fire started, even after they tried for close to an hour.
"Aren't you going to help?" I asked Taylor.
He shrugged. "I have no idea what they're trying to do. I was never a boy scout."
Fair enough, I smiled.
So, unlike what we planned, we just sat around in a circle and passed around a bag of jumbo marshmallows. Even not toasted, I liked them. Right, because they were made of sugar.
It was that part of the night where it got very dark very quickly. When we first sat in the new arrangement, traces of grey daylight were still visible. Now, though, it was that silky dark blue. The temperature also dropped considerably, which made me extra thankful for the extra level of warmth Taylor gave me.
"It's getting too cold for me," Sofia said. "I think I'm going to head in soon."
"What time is it?" James asked his wife, who tapped on her phone.
"Almost ten o'clock."
"Wow, I didn't realize it was that late," Mark said.
Me neither. The nap must have messed with my internal clock, making it seem earlier than it really was.
The three older Hudsons decided to go inside.
"You guys going to be okay out here?" Sofia asked.
"Yeah, mom. You know the bears don't like marshmallows."
Ha ha.
"Don't be smart with me. You're lucky Camille is out here with you. Otherwise, I'd lock you out."
I smiled even though moving my face made my head hurt even more. We all said our goodnights and Taylor and I were quiet until the back door closed and the patio light turned on.
"You sure you're okay to stay outside?" Taylor asked lowly.
"Yeah."
No matter where I was, my head would still kill me. Might as well get some fresh air.
"Head still hurt?"
"Oh, yeah. My neck, too."
"Come here, then."
"Where?"
"Back to the mall," he quipped. "I mean to my chair."
Oh-kay. I got up from my chair and took a few steps in Taylor's direction.
"I'm right beside you now," I whispered.
"Kay. I'm just going to turn on my phone's flashlight so we can see."
"What are you trying to do?"
"I want you to straddle my legs so I could massage the back of your neck."
Part of me wanted to insist that it was okay, that that wasn't necessary. But a much bigger part of meâmy heartâwanted to be close to Taylor like that and another partâmy headâneeded all the help it could get.
Thankfully, Taylor's chair didn't have arms so I didn't have to worry about getting my legs tangled. In what was possibly the most erotic thing I had ever done, I hooked one leg over Taylor's lower body and lowered myself down so that our middles were touching.
"You can lean on me," he whispered.
His words sent tingles down my spine. I did as I was toldâI didn't need to be told twiceâand took the deepest sigh of relief ever as my head hit his chest. Immediately his fingers worked circles into the knots on the back of my head.
"Is this okay?"
"Yes."
Everything about that moment was more than okay. Taylor's body was so much bigger than mine that he was literally all I could see, feel, and smell. He was soft yet hard and smelled like clean, warm skin.
I'm not sure how long we sat there like that, but I didn't take one second for granted. It was my happy place.
Right there, in his arms, I felt content and peaceful and strong and beautiful. Nothing could break the bubble that I was in.
Except for one thought.
If being here like this, with my body draped over Taylor Hudson's was absolute bliss, then what did that mean?
What did this all mean?
Moments where you realize that you've been lying to yourself hit you like a ton of bricks.
Just attracted to him, my foot.
Yes, I thought Taylor was attractive, but he was also kind and hardworking and talented and funny and so good to me.
But even without that list, I couldn't deny that I. Felt. It. That something deep within me that's simultaneously described with one word but also impossible to be described with words.
Somewhere in the distance, fireworks went off.
At first it was only one or two. But then they went off all at once.
Kind of like falling in love.
"Happy New Year, Camille," Taylor whispered.
Then he bent down and kissed my forehead.
More fireworks went off, but these were ones were inside me.
I was in love with Taylor.