18. Hudson

HUDSON

“Do you even realize how fucked you are?” Chaney says nonchalantly while we walk toward my car after deboarding the plane. We’re just returning from another stretch of away games.

I got “voluntold” to drop him off because Briggs needed to get straight home. Since I’m the only one not rushing home to a wife and kids, they picked me to chauffeur the rookie around. Lucky me. Don’t ask me why a grown-ass man doesn’t even have a driver’s license. He also has a strong aversion to rideshare because of the privacy risk. That part I don’t blame him for I guess, but fuck, hire a driver. Or something.

I’m just grumpy because I’ve been stuck on a plane with other anxious, grumpy hockey players who want to get home to their families.

This time, it’s different. I actually have someone to get home to, and I can’t fucking wait another second to see Caroline. We barely had two days together since the night that I snuck into her room at the sorority house, and it wasn’t fucking long enough before I had to head back on the road for another game.

I haven’t stopped thinking about her, and I can’t wait to see her in my bed tonight. We agreed to only meet up at my house moving forward, just to be safe. This time, no one can interrupt us and there’s no chance we’ll be caught. Perks of living alone. But I’m also excited to just be together outside of my bed too, to hear her laughter, to hear about the kids at the rink, to flirt and tease like we always do. I just really like being around her.

“Don’t make me leave you here.” I stop mid stride and narrow my gaze at Chaney’s jab, my lips tightening into a scowl.

Chaney lifts his hands in surrender, but the sincere expression on his face gives him away. “I love you enough to say it, Rome. You’ve been bouncing around for the last hour and a half, filled with nervous energy, and I know it’s got every bit to do with getting home to see…” He looks around, lowering his voice and shielding it behind his hand before he continues. “Caroline.”

“Get in the car,” I tell him, unlocking the Rover and tossing my hockey bag in the trunk before sliding into the driver’s seat.

Once he gets in the passenger seat and shuts the door, he turns to face me.

“Listen, I’m just worried, okay? You’re… You’re one of my best friends, and I don’t want Coach to make your life a living hell. Brother, you are fucked-up about this girl. And not just any girl. Our coach’s much younger, very fucking off-limits co-ed daughter. Dude, she was a baby when you were a teenager.”

I clench my jaw, averting my gaze. “We’re not together, Chaney. We’re just having fun. We tried to stay away from each other, and it didn’t work, so we’re just taking it day by day.”

He huffs, flopping backward against the leather of my seat. “Yeah, until you get caught, and guess what… then it doesn’t matter what kind of shit you two want to label it. Then, it’s too late. Coach knows, the media has a field day, and your entire career is on the line. You’re playing with fire, and I’m scared you’re going to get burned.”

Part of me wants to snap on him, my patience already wearily thin, but another part of me sees that the kid is genuinely worried. I can see it on his face and hear it in the tone of his voice. He’s actually fucking concerned.

“Rookie, I appreciate you, alright? I do,” I say with sincerity.

He nods. “Just looking out for you, Rome. That’s all.”

“I know. I appreciate that, and as much as I do, I’m sick of looking at your ugly-ass face.” I smirk, pulling out onto the highway towards his high-rise downtown penthouse.

He chuckles but doesn’t respond, and it leaves me thinking about my brothers and the shit we’ve been through throughout the years. Somewhere along the way, we just added another to our crew.

The rookie became a part of our group from the moment we met him. Suddenly, he just started showing up to shit. Typical Chaney– he’s a persistent fucker. But, he’s one of us now.

I think about what he said the entire drive home, even after I dropped him outside of the penthouse.

I don’t think he’s wrong… and I don’t blame him for being concerned.

But when I pull into the driveway, the only thing I can think about is getting inside my house to Caroline. Maybe we are playing with fire, but the more time I spend with her, the more I know I don’t want to let her go. When I’m not with her, I spend all my time thinking about her, wishing she was there with me.

I toss my keys onto the table inside the front door and quietly set my hockey bag on the floor in the entryway before taking the stairs two at a time to the second floor, walking straight to the master bedroom.

The door is wide open, the silhouette of the beautiful girl asleep in my bed, causing my stomach to dip.

I lean against the doorframe, my eyes riveted to Caroline, who’s bathed in the moonlight from the skylight windows, fast asleep. Her blonde hair is spread out on the pillow, her arms and legs tangled into the sheets.

When I thought about coming home to Caroline in my bed, I thought I wanted to come home to her naked, ready for me to crawl between her legs, but seeing her in an old practice T-shirt of mine that falls midthigh causes something possessive to flare in my chest.

I have no right to feel that way… but it doesn’t change the fact that I do. Doesn’t change the fact that even the thought of sharing her with anyone else makes my chest tight and my fists clench at my side.

She sighs in her sleep, a soft, breathy sound that makes my lips tug into a grin. I slip off my tennis shoes and cross the room, making my way over to her.

My knees hit the bed, and I crawl over her body, placing a kiss along the back of her thigh that’s hitched up over the duvet. She smells so fucking good that I drag my nose along her warm skin, inhaling. Doesn’t matter what time it is or where she is, my Bubblegum always smells like her favorite strawberry watermelon flavor.

“Mmmm.” She moans softly in response to my touch.

Always so responsive, even when she’s asleep.

I lift the worn shirt higher, exposing her bare ass, and plant kisses along the expanse of skin, nipping in places, and that’s when I hear her breathing change, picking up.

My girl’s awake.

I kiss up her back, softly along her spine, until I make it up the length of her body. When I do, I see the sleepy smile on her face.

“Hi,” she whispers, her fingers fisting into my shirt and pulling me toward her until her nose brushes along mine. “You’re here.”

“I’m here, Bubblegum.”

I lie down beside her and grab her waist, pulling her flush against me, feeling her warm, pliant body against mine.

“Missed you,” she says, bringing her hand up to my face and touching the shadow along my jaw.

As terrifying as it is to admit it… Chaney’s right. I’m entirely fucked when it comes to this girl, and I probably have been since the very first night.

I can’t admit that out loud, especially not to her. Not when she’s said she’s not interested in anything beyond this.

This, which feels more complicated by the second.

This, which is beginning to feel like not enough.

Not nearly enough. I think I want everything with her.

“Missed you too, baby,” I say, finally capturing her lips, tasting the sweet, fruity flavor that I’m already fucking addicted to. “I wish I could come home to this every time I get off a plane.”

She grins against my mouth, looping her arm around my neck. “Mmmm, getting soft on me? That feels a little too relationshipy, Romeo,” she laughs. “But I think that we could arrange something here or there. Meeting you here is definitely much better than worrying about the close call at the house the other day. Don’t ya think? We can bang the bed on the wall and scream as loud as we want. Besides, your bed is so comfy,” she winks.

My hand roams down her back to her ass, and I grab a handful, loving the feel of her in my hands. I love her like this– playful and flirty, relaxed in my arms. Sexy as fuck.

I crave her with a hunger I’ve never known.

“I’ve got less than forty-eight hours with you, Bubblegum.” I dip my mouth to where she’s already wet and aching for me. “Gotta make every second count.”

And until the sun comes up, I do.

* * *

When I crackmy eyes open the next morning, the first thing I feel is the sun beating down on my skin, a blanket of warmth tempting me back into sleep one ray at a time.

I stretch my arms above my head, groaning when the sore muscles ripple from a combination of the game and spending most of the night putting Caroline in positions I didn’t even know she could go.

We both finally passed out after three, after exhaustion coated my limbs until I felt like I couldn’t hold my eyes open another second, much to Caroline’s amusement. She could barely keep her eyes open either, but it didn’t stop a lazy, sleepy grin from forming on her lips, her teasing me about being an old man with no stamina. So, then I had to prove her wrong one more time before we crashed.

Sitting up, I drag my hand through my hair, peering around the room and realizing that she’s not in the bed with me.

Then, I smell… bacon.

Is my Bubblegum cooking me breakfast?

Smirking, I walk to the dresser and snag a pair of gym shorts and pull them up my hips. I walk downstairs quietly and realize I was right.

Caroline’s at the stove, wearing my T-shirt from last night, one that falls down her thighs as her hips sway along to the music she’s dancing to, spatula in hand.

For a second, I don’t say a fucking thing. I just watch as she dances and scrambles eggs, oblivious to my presence.

Something so simple, yet when she does it…

It’s mesmerizing.

I make my way over to her, standing a few inches behind her back, and she still hasn’t realized I’m here. “Morning, Bubblegum,” I rasp near her ear.

She rears back, letting out a scream as the spatula falls onto the counter. “Holy shit!”

I chuckle as I lace my arms around her waist, fisting the cotton fabric of my shirt to haul her against me.

“Expected a warmer welcome after how many times you came last night.”

Whipping around to face me, she narrows her blue eyes. “Well, you scared the shit out of me!”

I shrug. “I like watching you like this.” I nod toward the eggs on the stove and slowly trail my fingers up the outside of her thigh, underneath the T-shirt. “Cooking in my kitchen, wearing my shirt…”

Her body sags against mine, her hands linking around my neck, fingering the thin chain. Something I’ve noticed she does a lot that I’m getting addicted to. “Figured you needed to refuel after the game… and last night,” she says saucily.

Trust me, I won’t be forgetting the way she rode my cock… with her ass facing me, taking every inch of me, giving me a full view of her cunt taking my cock.

This wild girl that I’m fucking crazy about.

“Thank you for cooking breakfast for me, Bubblegum. I think this is a first.” I smirk, dropping a quick kiss to her lips before letting her go and walking over to the fridge for orange juice. I set it on the counter and grab two glasses and pour us each one. “Can’t say I’ve ever had a woman cook me breakfast the next day.”

“Shame.” She grins over her shoulder, then turns back to the stove and finishes breakfast. All while I sit at the bar, watching her cook, watching her hips sway, and trying not to get a hard-on.

Pretty sure my cock could get hard watching her do anything.

Once she finishes, she puts food on two plates and sets one in front of me, a sweet smile on her face.

“So.” She joins me at the bar, fork in hand. “What’s the plan today? You fly out again tomorrow right?”

I swallow the bite of eggs, reaching out to place my free hand on her thigh, needing to touch her somewhere. “Yep. But today, I’m taking you on a date.” I feel her tense slightly next to me, so I add, “Don’t freak out that I’m calling it a date. Just two people who like to have great sex enjoying the day together. Better?”

Her eyebrows raise. “Hmm. And do I get to know where we’re going?”

“Nope.” I smirk. “Rather keep it a surprise.”

“I love surprises!”

* * *

“No way,”Caroline breathes, her eyes widening as I pull into a parking space behind the stadium. “Please tell me you’re about to make my dreams come true of marrying a professional baseball player.”

My lips twist into a scowl. “Sure, if he wants to die. Have you seen me on the ice? Now imagine that but worse for anyone stupid enough to touch you.”

She smarts, “For someone who doesn’t get jealous, you seem pretty jealous, Romeo. You could just pull your dick out and pee on me instead.”

I shrug. “Not jealous. Possessive. I don’t like people touching what’s mine.” Leaning across the console, I bring my hand to her jaw, my lips so close to hers that I can practically taste her fruity gum. “And Bubblegum? Make no mistake, you are mine. At least for now.”

With that, I get out of the car, walking around to her door and opening it, then offering her my hand. But I keep her hand in mine as I guide her toward the stadium. “Now, let’s go. We’ve got a big day planned and no time to waste.”

I pause to slap her ass for good measure, causing her to yelp.

“You sure are bossy, Romeo.”

Chuckling, I clasp her hand in mine again. “You haven’t seen bossy yet, baby.”

I don’t miss the way she shivers at my words, picking up exactly the meaning behind them.

Once we get to the back door of the practice facility, I pull out my phone and send a quick text before pocketing it back into my gym shorts pocket.

Caroline asked what she should wear for our “surprise,” and I told her something comfortable, so she went with a pair of tight black leggings and one of my T-shirts tied up at her hip. Her hair is on the top of her head, and the only makeup she’s got on is ChapStick.

Simple. Flawless. And it took her all of ten minutes to get dressed.

That’s after a thirty-minute shower where I ate her pu—

“Hudson Rome!”

A voice breaks through my thoughts, and I see Fisher Owens standing in front of me, a cocky grin on his face as he pulls me in for a hug. “How the hell are you, man?”

Third baseman for the Chicago Knights, he’s a burly motherfucker, and I’m not a small guy by any means. Six foot four, two hundred and eighty pounds, the dude could probably bench-press me. But truthfully, he’s a big teddy bear. A solid brick teddy bear.

We met at an event a few years ago and kept in touch, forming a casual friendship, occasionally grabbing beers when we’re both around. So imagine my surprise when I found out that Caroline is actually a baseball fan?

Kismet.

I knew my girl would lose her mind when I planned this date.

“Good, man, I’m good. How are you? Enjoying your downtime?” I ask him.

His wide shoulders shake as he runs his hands over the beard on his chin. “Fuck yeah. I think I’m going to go to Yellowstone for a while next week. Camp out, wake up to the fresh air. This your girl?” His gaze flits to Caroline.

“Yeah, this is her.”

Fisher extends his hand to her, and she slides her small hand in his. “Hi, I’m Fisher Owens. A friend of Hudson’s.”

“Caroline. Nice to meet you.” She smiles brightly. “Do you play for Chicago? The Knights? I think?”

He nods, a deep chuckle rumbling from his chest. “Third baseman. You a fan?”

“I’m a Seattle Sirens fan.” She grins cheekily, shifting from one foot to the other. “But now that I’m calling Chicago home, maybe I’ll become a Knights fan too.”

“If not, then I’ll convert you.” He grins, turning back toward me and throwing his arm over my shoulder. “Lucked out with this guy. He’s never called in a favor from me until now.”

Her eyebrows rise in surprise as her cheeks pink, and her gaze slides to mine. “Hmm.”

She doesn’t say anything else, but I feel her eyes on me when I throw Fisher’s arm off. “As much as I want to sit around staring at your handsome face for the rest of the day…”

“Fine, fine,” Fisher interrupts before I can finish. “You know where the batting cages are. Practice field is free, so just shoot me a text when you’re ready to head out, and I’ll lock up behind you.”

“Thanks, Fisher. I owe you one,” I tell him, taking Caroline’s hand and tugging her to me. “Maybe I’ll come on Call Him Mommy.”

The damn podcast he’s been begging me to come on for the last year, which I’ve declined. Every single time.

“Hey, don’t say that shit cuz I’ll hold you to it.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “How about a we’ll see. Thanks again.”

“Nice to meet you, Caroline. Maybe I’ll see you at a game this season.” Fisher smiles as he walks backward down the hallway.

“Maybe so.”

Once he’s gone, I look at Caroline, who’s gazing around the practice facility with stars in her eyes. “What do you think?”

“Pretty sure this is going to be the best ‘friends who have hot sex and are spending the day together’ ever,” she breathes excitedly.

Even though my stomach drops at yet another mention of how casual this is, I say, “Not sure if that’s really a thing, Bubblegum, but if not, we’ll make it one.”

I try not to let it bother me as we walk hand in hand through the facility, me pointing out random facts that I’ve learned over the last few years from Fisher, and Caroline nodding along quietly as she takes it all in. When we get to the batting cage, I let her pick out which cage she wants.

“This one,” she says, landing on the very last cage in the warehouse-sized room. The place is the size of three Costcos, with at least twenty rows of cages spanning the wall.

I turn the machine on and set it on a fairly low speed since I haven’t actually hit a fucking ball since I was a kid. Ninety-mile-per-hour fastballs are not my thing, only fast pucks. Trust me when I say they are two different things.

“Ready?” I ask, plucking a helmet off the shelf and handing it to her along with a bat.

She looks fucking adorable in a bright red helmet and a matching bat. “Hell yes. This is incredible!”

When she practices her swing, she gets so excited that the bat slips from her hand, almost taking out my entire damn eye with the bat as it flies my way.

I duck at the last minute, and it hits the fence behind me with a loud clink.

Her eyes widen. “Shit, I’m sorry. Shit.” She rushes over, her small hands fisting in my shirt. “I may have gotten a little too excited. Sorry!”

“Bubblegum, it’s fine. Remember that time that guy ran into you and almost knocked you the fuck over the first time you met?”

Her smile turns from a frown, only slightly. “Oh yeah, he was a real asshole. Hot, but definitely an asshole.”

I wrap my arms around her and pinch her butt, finally getting the smile back out of her. “Let’s play. I want to see how hard you can hit that ball. I’ve seen you fling the bat… but I wanna see you hit the ball.”

Standing on her tiptoes, she pecks my lips with a feigned annoyed eye roll and grabs the bat, taking her position. I slip out of the cage and hit the button to start it, and then I sit back and watch…

She misses every single one.

But not from lack of trying. She swings like she’s standing in the middle of a stadium surrounded by fifty thousand people and this is her shot at the championship.

After several minutes, she finally almost clips one. But when it hits the fence behind her, instead of her getting frustrated and giving up, she lifts her chin, squares her shoulders, and holds the bat even higher, ready to go again.

It makes my chest swell with pride. She could easily give up and said fuck it, but nah.

Not my Bubblegum.

Caroline Evans is the girl who looks shit in the eye and says fuck you. And swings again.

“Raise your elbow a little, baby,” I tell her through the fence. She follows my instructions, standing tall as the ball flies down the tunnel toward her.

BAM.

She fucking hit it!

“Fuck yes, Bubblegum!” I holler as I throw the door open and turn off the machine, then rush toward her and pick her up. I spin her around until she’s squealing through her laughter. “I knew you would do it.”

Her arms are wrapped around my neck, her lips hovering over mine, a smile on her beautiful face that I’d pay every damn dollar I’ve ever made to keep there.

“It felt amazing! Holy shit,” she breathes, tossing her head back and letting out a scream. “I have like so much adrenaline running through my veins right now. I feel like I could bench-press a car.”

I laugh, the sound vibrating between us. “Woah there, Stone Cold Steve Austin.”

She sighs, a happy, sweet sound against my lips, and I hold on tighter. “Seriously, this was amazing. Getting to see the facility, meet Fisher, bat in a batting cage that freaking MLB players use? The most incredible not-a-date I’ve ever been on. I feel so… alive?”

My smile widens with her declaration.

That’s exactly what I feel like when I’m with Caroline. Alive. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I could take on the fucking world. Like I could face anything just as long as I was with her.

“Just wait till you see where we’re headed next.”