22. Caroline

CAROLINE

“Tonight is exactly what you need, Care. Let your hair down, and by let your hair down, I mean let your tits out, drink a shit ton of tequila, and make sure that man is the last thing on your mind,” Tatum says as she wraps a piece of my hair around the curling wand. “It’s girls’ night, and that means it’s me and you, babe. No one else. We’re drinking till we puke.”

Laughing, I try not to move so she doesn’t burn me… again. “Um, that does not sound fun. Like, at all, Tate.”

I can see her smirk in the full-length mirror I’m sitting in front of. “I mean, it’ll be fun while we’re doing it, just not the puking part.”

Honestly, tequila does sound like it could be the answer to my problems. At least, right now. For tonight.

My heart twinges. I can’t believe I’m even referring to things with Hudson being a problem.

And okay, fine, maybe tequila isn’t the answer because I don’t know what the answer is to my confusion, but it will make me feel better for the time being. Help me just be a carefree college student tonight as I try to forget the fight that may be our ending.

I hate how I left things with him, and I hate that we haven’t spoken at all since, but even if we did, I’m not sure what I would say. I just need some time to think about all he said, all he sprung on me, when I thought we were both on the same page. But maybe not…

“I don’t know, maybe I should just stay here? I don’t want to ruin your fun. I feel so… blah.”

Tatum stops her curling, shaking her head vehemently. “No way. You are going, Caroline. You cannot sit around here all night alone being upset. You need to get out with your friends and have some fun. You can think about the rest later.”

When she says it that way, it does sound perfect. A night out with my bestie and lots of tequila. At least, I keep trying to convince myself of that.

“Look, you look seriously so hot tonight, and there is no way I’m allowing you to let this outfit go to waste. Every guy who sees you tonight is going to lose his mind,” Tatum says, eying the outfit she put me in.

A black leather skirt and a satin cowl-neck cami that shows just the perfect amount of cleavage, paired with the cutest hot pink blazer to ever exist. I’m wearing my favorite pair of black heels, and I really do love the outfit she picked. It accentuates my curves and makes me feel hot as hell.

If only my heart felt up to the party tonight. Isn’t that the problem, though? The fact that my heart is feeling the brunt of what’s happening? That I’m this upset over “just a hookup”?

Clearly, I have some type of feelings for Hudson that are much deeper than what I thought, or I wouldn’t feel this way.

Right?

My head’s all screwed up, and the more I try to sort through everything, the more confused and conflicted I feel. Our dynamic always felt easy, so why does this feel so hard now?

“Maybe I fucked up, Tate,” I say quietly, my gaze meeting hers in the mirror. “I mean, it feels like I fucked up? Is he right, that I’m scared and pushing him away? If it means that he’s no longer a part of my life, then that isn’t what I want. I do know that…”

Tatum sighs, setting the curling wand down on the table next to her before wrapping her arms around me from behind and resting her chin on my shoulder. “I think you just have to decide what you want, Care. It seems like he’s laid it all out on the line for you, and you did kind of run, babe. Not that you were wrong. I’m definitely on your side no matter what, but it sounds like you need to take some time to think through things before making any rash decisions.”

“I just felt blindsided, and I still kind of do. I’m trying to sort through all of the stuff he threw at me at once. We never talked about this being anything more than casual, and he didn’t even give me a chance to wrap my brain around it. And the worst part is that I miss him already, Tate. I miss him so fucking much, and I feel like that means something, right?”

She laughs, standing. “I think sometimes it just takes a little while for our head to catch up with our heart. Either way, it sounds like you have feelings for Hudson. Not just that he’s your dick appointment and gives you great orgasms. Real feelings. And those are messy and complicated at times.”

I sigh, the weight of the last day feeling heavier by the second. “It’s just… I’ve never actually had that. Never had a real relationship before, and this all feels brand-new to me. Plus, it’s not like I’ve actually had a great example of what a stable, loving relationship should actually look like, so I don’t even know what that is.”

“I know, babe, and I feel like that’s why more than anything, you need to think about what it is that you want. Clearly, you care about Hudson and don’t want to hurt him, so it’s only fair to him to take your time to sort through your shit. Which… you can do tomorrow. After a night out having fun with me and our friends. You need to clear your head and start fresh.”

“Wow.” I shake my head, standing from the beanbag. “This was a good talk, Tate.”

Her shoulder dips slightly. “I read a lot of self-help books when I’m bored.”

My head falls back as a laugh escapes me. The first time I’ve laughed in what feels like ages, even though it’s been less than twenty-four hours since I left Hudson’s. But it feels like the longest day of my entire life.

And I think Tatum is right. About all of it. I need a night out with my friends—maybe that will pull me out of this funk and put me in a better headspace to have an actual conversation with Hudson. Because the one thing I do know right now is that I’m not ready to let him go.

“You know, I think you’re right, Tate.” I smirk, tossing my hair over my shoulder and taking another glance in the mirror. “I think a night out will do me good.”

“That’s my girl!” she says as she makes a beeline for her closet.

Once Tate finishes her makeup, a dramatic red lip that pops with her dark hair, we grab our purses and start the trek to the party along with a few other girls from the house.

Zeta Alpha is only a few houses down from Beta Pi, so it’s just a quick five-minute walk to the large, looming white colonial-style house. There’s a large banner stretched across the front two pillars that says “Zeta Life.” People are already scattered across the front yard and the driveway, loud music booming down the street.

“Ready?” Tatum asks, looping her arm in mine.

I can’t say that I’m really excited to go tonight, but I didn’t want to let her down by flaking at the last minute, and she’s right… If I stayed in the house, then I would just watch reruns of Gilmore Girls and cry into my ice cream, and it’s a proven fact that shit never helped anyone.

I just miss Hudson. But I know I need to figure out what all of these feelings mean for us.

Even though I’m completely thrown off by everything that is happening, I just… I wish we could go back to how things were. To when we were having fun, and everything just felt right. Like it was supposed to. I’m not sure that’s even possible. But I know I need to get my head straight before we talk again. I owe that to him to figure out what I want.

“Care?” Tatum snaps in front of my face, pulling me from my fog. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m good.” I plaster on the best fake smile I can muster. “Just get me shots, and I’ll be great.”

* * *

An hour and a half later,I am drunk, and Tatum is nowhere in sight.

And I am like wayyyyy more drunk than I intended to be.

And everything feels… wobbly.

And I have to pee, like right. Now.

“Tate?” I look around for my roommate, but in doing so, the entire room spins so badly that I reach out to steady myself on the wall just as another person bumps into me, almost sending me sprawling to the floor.

“Sorry,” the stranger mutters in passing, and I scoff.

Yeah, thanks for the apology, dick.

God, my head is spinning. I think I drowned my sorrows a little too much tonight. I bring my hand to my head to try and stop the room from spinning around me. I feel like I’m floating on top of my body, and I can’t seem to get my bearings.

Where the hell is Tate?

Finally, I make it down the less crowded hallway and fling open a door. Not the bathroom. Damnit.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to keep my balance, but with my head being so dizzy and these heels making my steps more uneven…

I walk to the bed in the middle of the room and sit on the edge before I fall down and embarrass myself.

Reminder to self…

Never drink again. Ever.

Blackness dots my vision, the room spinning completely out of control, and the last thing I can remember is wishing that Hudson was here to hold me.

* * *

Hudson

My phone ringsfor the third time on my nightstand. I fucking swear if this is Chaney calling me again in the middle of the night because he’s drunk and lost downtown, I’m going to lose my damn mind. All I want to do is sleep off the feeling of watching Caroline walk away. From me. From us.

Because it fucking sucks.

I glance at the glowing red numbers on the alarm clock, seeing that it’s after midnight, and shake my head as I reach one arm out for my phone.

“I swear,” I grumble, swiping across the screen, “Chaney, this better be life or fucking death.”

“Uh, hi… this isn’t Chaney.” A woman’s voice comes through the speaker, and I squint with one eye open at the screen, trying to make out the number, but fuck, I’m still half-asleep. “This is Caroline’s roommate, Tatum, and, uh… I think she needs you to come get her.”

I jackknife from the bed, my eyes flying open. “What’s wrong? Is she okay?”

I’m already climbing from the bed and pulling on my clothes at breakneck speed while I wait for her to respond.

“She had a little too much to drink tonight, and she’s kind of out of it. I’m worried and don’t think I can get her home by myself. I didn’t want to call her dad, and my boyfriend is out of town, so I didn’t know who else to call.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Obviously, it’s bad if I’m the one she’s calling after how Caroline and I left things.

Doesn’t matter because I’ll be there if my girl needs me, no matter fucking what. Whether she wants to be with me or not, I’ll always help her.

“Text me the address. I’m walking out the door,” I say, grabbing my wallet from the nightstand, then taking the stairs two at a time.

“Thank you for coming, Hudson,” she says. “I know things are… weird with you two right now, but she needs you. It’ll mean a lot to her that you came.”

“I’ll always come for her. Always.”

We end the call, and a few seconds later, a text pops up with the address, and I’m already in the car. I click the address and put it in my GPS and see that it’s only a few houses down from Caroline’s sorority house.

She’s still on sorority row, and that just makes my stomach twist in knots. So fucking close to home, and yet she feels so goddamn far away. Out of my reach.

I make the twenty-minute drive in ten, my hands aching from clenching around the steering wheel so tightly by the time I pull down the street. The entire road is lined with cars and drunk people walking around, and because of that, it takes me fucking ten minutes to find a spot to park.

“Where is this house?” I show a passerby douche in a blue polo and boat shoes, who drunkenly points to the house that’s side by side with another house that’s also filled with people. It seems like the entire street is partying, and all I want is to find my girl.

All that fucking matters is getting to her and making sure she’s okay.

I sprint toward the house, pushing my way through crowds of kids playing beer pong and doing keg stands in the front yard until I finally make it through the front door. Loud, pulsing music is playing inside. Pulling my phone out, I call the phone number that her roommate called from, and she answers on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Where are you? I’m here,” I grunt, trying to scan the crowd for Caroline to no avail.

“I’m heading back towards the room I left her resting in. I needed to grab her some water and a cool rag—I think she was about to be sick. Second door to the right on the second floor.”

I hang up and take the stairs two at a time, weaving my way through the crowd until I make it to the second floor, which is thankfully less packed and less loud, finding the door Tatum mentioned. I swing it open without knocking and walk inside.

The first thing I see is Caroline lying on the bed with her eyes closed, a soft groan leaving her lips as if she’s in pain. The next thing I see is a guy hovering over her prone body, his hand just above her thigh.

“What the fuck?” I roar, my vision turning red, a poisonous and uncontrollable rage coursing through my veins. I can’t control it.

And I don’t fucking want to.

The piece of shit scrambles up and turns alabaster white. Good, he should fucking be scared. Instantly, I cross the room in two giant steps, grasping him by the collar and lifting him clean off his feet. I want to kill this fucker.

I hear a gasp and turn to see a short, dark-haired girl just inside the threshold, holding an unopened water bottle and a cloth in her free hand, the other covering her mouth in horror. The look on her face tells me everything I need to fucking know.

I turn back to the douchebag struggling in my grasp. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I’m so close to his face I can practically feel the motherfucker shaking in my grip.

He stutters, “She-e… I…”

“I suggest you fucking speak. Use your big-boy words,” I warn.

“He was not in here when I left!” the girl cries, stalking forward, “I have no idea who this asshole is, but I left Care alone in here for just a second to go grab her a water. Omigod, did he touch her? I’m so sorry. God, I shouldn’t have left her side.”

So, she’s the roommate.

His throat bobs as he swallows. “I was j-just checking on her.” His voice is a nasally, full-on fucking whine, and it makes me even more enraged. “She was pa-assed out—I just wanted to make su-r-e she was okay.”

My fingers tighten in his collar, cutting off his air supply further, earning a whimper.

I glance toward the bed, directing Tatum with a tilt of my head. “Check on her. How much did she have to drink?”

Her roommate shakes her head. “I don’t understand how she’s so drunk… we only had a couple shots. I just don’t understand.” She presses the damp cloth to Caroline’s head. She’s still fast asleep but groans and turns to the side, curling into a ball.

“Wait… what if someone put something in her drink?” the girl whispers, her gaze darting to the motherfucker I’m two seconds away from killing, and her eyes widen.

Oh fuck no.

Fuck no.

“N-n-o…” he stutters, fear flitting across his face, and when my fist tightens, he looks like he might actually piss his pants. “Holy fuck, no! I was-s just checking on her!”

I’m fucking done with this asshole, with this entire thing, and am raising my fist to beat his goddamn face in when I hear my name being called, soft and shaky, a hoarse whisper that has me snapping out of it. My anger dissipates into thin air.

“Romeo.”

I drop the asshole on his ass, and he scrambles away on all fours. My girl needs me. I make my way over to Caroline, who moans when I run my hand over every inch of her face, checking to make sure she’s alright.

“Bubblegum. Are you okay?”

She shakes her head, mumbling something incoherent, and I turn to her roommate. “We need to get her home. Did you drive here?”

“No, we walked. It’s only a few houses down.”

I nod, reaching under Caroline and scooping her up into my arms. She burrows into my neck, her hands fisting into my shirt, and I place a gentle kiss to her brow. “Let’s go.”

Tatum turns, flinging the door back open, and I follow behind her, carrying Caroline out of the room. There’s a crowd hovering near the door, curious glances thrown our way as we make our way downstairs.

“Holy shit, that’s Hudson Rome!” someone says. “The Avalanche goalie! He’s a legend! Hey, Playboy Playmaker!”

Chaos fucking ensues.

The crowd thickens around us, but I don’t stop. Not when paper is thrust into my face, not when flashes go off.

Fuck no.

There’s a time and place for shit like that, and this is not it. Not with my unwell girl in my arms.

Finally, we step outside and down the stairs of the frat house, making our way down the curving path of the sidewalk. I could get my car and bring them home, but by the time I make it there and through the horde of people in the road, it wouldn’t make any sense. I can get her there faster by walking. Part of me wants to just take her home with me, but after how we left things, I’m not sure she’d want that.

“Are you going to carry her?” Tatum asks, eyes wide. “All the way there?”

My gaze narrows. “I’m a fucking hockey player, Tatum. I could carry three of her.”

I head in the direction of the sorority house, leaving Tatum with her jaw hanging open until she ambles toward me, picking up the pace so she can keep up with my strides.

My one and only fucking goal is getting my girl home and into her bed safely. Tonight was a shit show, and I saw my life flash before my eyes with that guy in my hands. I could see myself in a four-by-four jail cell for the foreseeable future with how pissed I was, how close I was to destroying that kid. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much rage in the thirty-three years I’ve been on this fucking planet.

We walk down the street, Tatum practically jogging to keep up with me, until we get to the sorority house. Unlike the frat house, it’s dark and quiet, and I feel inherently better knowing she’ll be home in her bed, where she’s safe. I’ll still worry but a little fucking less knowing that she won’t be around some douchebag frat fuck.

Tatum pulls out her keys and unlocks the front door, then turns to me and holds a finger in front of her mouth, ensuring that I’m quiet as we step over the threshold and she leads me to their room. Once we’re inside, she hits the light, and I carry Caroline to her bed, setting her down gently on the light pink comforter, pushing her hair from her face.

She sighs sleepily, her makeup smeared, never stirring, even when I bring my hand to her face, cradling her jaw tenderly.

God, I fucking love her. I’m gone for her.

Every wild, carefree inch of her, and fuck, yeah… nights like tonight make our age difference more apparent. I remember being her age and what I was like, freshly drafted into the NHL, the world at my fingertips. The only thing I chased was girls and a hockey puck. She’s not wrong—our lives are different. But I know that this girl is meant to be mine. How do we make that happen? I don’t fucking know. My world is better with her in it, and I want to figure this out.

I want her however I can have her.

I’m staring down at her sleeping form, absent-mindedly swiping my thumb along her jaw, when Tatum clears her throat. When I turn, her gaze is on me, her arms crossed over her chest as she leans against the wall opposite Caroline’s bed.

“Thanks for helping, but you can’t stay, Hudson…” she says softly, “I… I know that you two are going through stuff, and I don’t know if she would want you to.”

I nod. “I know. Thank you for looking out for her and loving her enough to make decisions like that when she can’t. I just want to make sure she’s okay before I go.” Pausing, I glance back at Caroline, then turn to Tatum again. “Can I get, uh… a makeup wipe? She hates sleeping with it on…”

Tatum nods, her face softening at my words. “Yeah, of course. Here.” She walks over to a table with tubes and bottles scattered across it and grabs a wipe from a little pouch in the drawer, handing it to me.

I may not be able to stay with her tonight because I respect and understand that we’re not together right now… and I’m supposed to be giving her space. But I want to make sure she can at least rest well. I use the wipe to delicately remove the makeup from her face, then unstrap the heels from her feet and grab two Advil from her desk, setting them next to her with a bottle of water. I make sure the trash can is within reach, then lean down and press my lips against her forehead, lingering for a moment as I breathe her in.

I fucking miss her so much there’s a spot inside my chest that aches after only one fucking day apart. I hate that I can’t stay and take care of her. That I can’t take her in my arms and hold her all night. Keep an eye on her as she sleeps it off. Show her how fucking crazy I am about her. But I understand why I can’t. Not tonight.

If there’s one thing I will never do… it’s go against her wishes. I will always respect her enough to put her first.

Tucking her into the covers, I whisper into her ear, even though she’s completely out and probably won’t remember this in the morning, “I love you, Bubblegum. It’s ripping my heart out of my fucking chest to walk away from you right now, but I love you enough to do it. Because you deserve that man. The one who respects your wishes unequivocally. The man that respects your needs more than his desires.”

I sigh, standing straight and turning toward Tatum. “Please call me if she needs anything, okay?”

“I will. Thank you. For everything. You’re a good guy, Hudson.”

I nod but don’t respond, instead walk to the door and turn the knob, opening it.

“Hey, Hudson?” Tatum calls as I step over the threshold.

When I turn back to face her, she’s got a soft smile on her face, and she’s getting into bed with Caroline. “She loves you, you know? It may not be in the loud, over-the-top way you want right now, but she does. Give her time to find it.”

“I’ll wait. I’ll love her in every way she deserves, even if that means from afar.”