7. Caroline

7

CAROLINE

Slowly but without a doubt, I find myself going from dreading seeing Hudson at our practices to anticipating walking into the rink and seeing him leaning against the boards, with that wooden clipboard in his strong hands.

I shouldn’t… but that doesn’t seem to stop the thrill swirling in my stomach from starting the second I walk into the rink.

The last two weeks have passed like the first week did. He did his best to remain professional, just as I did, but there is no denying that things are changing between us. Subtle flirting that neither of us can help.

It’s almost like we’re becoming friends, although neither of us are ready to assume a title that would tie us together in any way.

No, we’re both comfortable pretending that night didn’t happen between us, although the tension when we’re alone is a constant reminder that it very much did.

We could spend every day dancing around it, but when it’s just the two of us, that fact makes itself present, and it is by far the loudest thing in the room. Like the day in the break room when he teased me about my lunch, and the innuendo was so ridiculous we both died of laughter until Laura walked in and asked what she missed.

“Caroline, can you make sure this is straight for me?” Glancing up from my laptop, I see Hudson walking toward me in a fitted black tux that has obviously been custom-made solely for him. The expensive fabric hugs all of the lines of his muscles, showcasing his broad shoulders, and I bite back the urge to tell him just how handsome he looks.

Sorta-friends don’t do that, I remind myself.

And that’s all we’ll be due to his moral compass, even though I still desperately want to climb this man like a tree.

I sigh, abandoning my pencil and notebook where I had been sneaking in extra studying during the quiet times at the rink.

I expected my Friday nights to be much more eventful than they have been, but with the amount of homework I have already, I’m trying to keep from falling behind this early in the year.

“Sure. Big date tonight?” I tease as I stand on the bench in order to reach the black tie that sits crooked around his neck. This is the first time we’ve been this close since that day in the closet.

We’ve been careful to keep a professional distance between us, until now.

My hand is slightly shaky as I adjust the tie around his neck, righting the knot so it sits perfectly center at the column of his neck. His throat bobs as he swallows, and my gaze lifts to the five-o’clock shadow that’s dusted along his chiseled jaw.

This is my favorite look on Hudson. His hair short, the lazy, languid vibe of rolling out of bed and forgetting to run the razor over his face. Without realizing, my fingers drift to the silver chain that rests around his neck, fingering it gently as he speaks.

“Not a tux date kind of guy, Bubblegum,” he says roughly, his voice husky, the words rumbling from his chest and bleeding out onto me. “I’ve got a fundraiser tonight for the Pediatric Cancer Society. Gotta wear the damn thing since I’m representing the team. I’d never wear one again if I had it my way.”

It would be a sin for a man like Hudson to never wear a tux again. Truly.

All women would weep if they knew they’d never get the chance to see the way the fabric stretches across his broad shoulders and tapers at his powerful waist.

“I see. You know, if the gossip columns get a hold of this, that playboy reputation you hold might actually be at stake. Imagine if they knew that you volunteered the majority of your free time with a youth team and donated big money to cancer societies,” I tell him quietly, my voice laced with seriousness behind my teasing facade.

Every day I spend around Hudson, I realize more and more that he’s nothing like what I thought. Nothing like what most people think. He’s kind and passionate about those that he loves. He’s fiercely devoted to the Face-Off kids.

He might be Chicago’s Playboy Playmaker, but underneath, he’s just… more.

It’s a shame that the rest of the world doesn’t see those things and that he hides behind the clickbait headlines and the shitty articles attached to his name.

“Nah, reporting on who I’m fucking is far more clickworthy than anything good I do.”

I suck in a breath at the mention of him fucking, trying not to let the memory of his powerful body moving against mine assault me.

This was a bad idea, getting this close to him. Not when we have these boundaries that neither of us has tested.

I clear my throat and drop the chain as if it burned me, dragging my gaze back up to his eyes as I notice the corner of his lip tugging up slightly at my reaction.

“Well, I see you, Hudson Rome. All of you, even the pieces that you keep hidden away.”

The words escape me before I have time to think about them, the truth exploding out of me.

I do see him, now more clearly than before. After spending the past couple of weeks getting to know the real him, I’m starting to see who he really is. The way he cares about the kids he’s coaching, how he apologized and owned up to his asshole behavior that first day that we met, how he adores his nieces and nephews and spends all of his extra time with them, and coaching the kids. How important his family and friends are to him.

Part of me wishes that I had stayed ignorant of the fact that despite his playboy reputation, he is actually a good guy.

“Thank you,” he says, and I’m not sure if he’s referring to what I said or for fixing his tie, but he steps back slightly and shoves his hands into the pockets of his slacks before continuing. “Anyway, why are you still here?”

I step down from the bench and take a seat, pulling my laptop into my lap. “I was going to go to the library, but I figured I would take advantage of the quiet here. Uh, I have a big test coming up, and I really just need to focus. It’s actually kind of distracting at the library, and it’s impossible to study when my roommate is home.”

“I can talk with Laura on my way out, get her to leave you a key at the front desk. If you want.”

My eyes widen. “Really?”

Hudson nods. “Of course. I’m sure she’d be fine with it, as long as you make sure everything is locked up and you set the alarm before leaving.”

Honestly, studying here seems far more appealing than trying to find a quiet spot at the library or at the house on a Friday night.

“That would be amazing. Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll see you Monday,” he says over his shoulder as he starts walking away. “Be sure to lock up.”

“Yes, daddy,” I smart, watching as he freezes, turning back to face me, his gaze darkening as it zeroes in on me.

Whoops.

That slipped out, but… too late to take it back now. Not that I was going to.

He opens his mouth to speak, and it hangs open for a moment before he shakes his head. “That mouth, Caroline.” And he simply walks away, disappearing through the rink door.

True to his word, I’m halfway through my study guide when Laura appears in front of me with a shiny silver key in hand, scaring the ever-living shit out of me.

“Hudson caught me on his way out and said you wanted to stay and study? It’s all yours, babe! Just lock up tight when you leave. I’m headed out for the night for a few drinks with my girlfriends.”

I reach out and take the key ring from her outstretched hand before smiling. “Thank you so much, Laura—and have fun! I wish I could go out tonight, but there is no way I’m passing this class if I don’t study. I swear, each week, I think it’s going to get a little easier… it just gets harder.”

“It’ll pay off. You’ll have a ton of career options when you graduate with this under your belt.” She gestures around us. “And it’ll be a dream. Trust me.”

I nod and wave goodbye as she leaves me truly alone for the first time since I started school.

It’s so quiet it’s almost eerie, but I ignore the feeling and make sure all of the doors are securely locked before returning to my studying. It takes a little while, but I finally get into a groove, relishing in the blissful sound of silence, trying to accomplish as much as I can.

The next time I look up, weary-eyed and losing my steam, it’s almost 1:00 a.m.

“Holy shit,” I whisper, standing from the bench and lifting my arms above me in a stretch that relieves some of the stiffness from hours of being still.

I didn’t realize how late it had gotten, but I’m feeling so much better about this ridiculous test next week. I really want to start the year off right by acing my first test as an official Northwestern student.

Creak.

My eyes widen when I hear something in the front of the building. The lights in the rink are set based on activity, so most of the building is dark, aside from my spot at a table in the back near the heater.

What the hell was that?

I inch toward the front of the building, fear creeping into my chest with each step I take.

I double-checked the doors. There’s nothing here, Caroline.

You’re alone, it’s dark, and this building is empty.

You’re overthinking.

Quit being a scaredy bitch, as Lena would say.

My pep talk doesn’t actually work because halfway through my tiptoe to the front, there’s another loud creak that this time sounds like a door opening.

I reach for the first thing I can grab in the dimly lit room, which just so happens to be a hockey stick.

It’s a hockey rink. Who breaks into a hockey rink?

Oh god, what if someone knew I was here and they were waiting for the perfect time to strike and it isn’t actually even a robbery? What if they’re going to kidnap me? Would my dad pay the ransom?

Stop.

Get it together.

This is your brain overreacting and reaching, I tell myself. This is exactly what happens when I listen to too many true crime podcasts. I get paranoid.

I make my way to the exit door that opens to the front of the building, and honestly, I’m cursing these stupid lights and wondering why in the hell they haven’t turned on.

It’s even darker up here, and I can hardly make out the door handle to grab it with my free hand, my other is occupied with the large hockey stick I’m wielding as a weapon.

Blindly, I feel for the handle, wrapping my hand around the cool metal of it before swinging it open.

When I do, there’s a darkened figure standing on the other side, and I don’t think.

I react. I spent the last few minutes talking myself out of it being a serial killer who was planning on kidnapping me, and it turns out that I didn’t actually talk myself out of anything.

I swing that damn hockey stick as hard as I can until it collides with the looming person in front of me, earning a guttural groan, the man doubling over in pain.

Wow, I didn’t realize I actually had that in me.

“What the fuck, Caroline?”

I blink, my brain trying to process the voice and place the familiarity of it, but my heart is pounding so wildly in my chest, fear squeezing so tightly that I can’t even breathe over the erratic thrumming in my ears.

“It’s Hudson, Caroline! Goddamnit, I think you just punctured my kidney.”

Immediately, the stick falls from my hands, clattering onto the ground.

“Oh shit,” I say, rushing forward to try and help him, but it’s so dark I can’t see anything but his silhouette, and I collide with him instead. “I’m sorry!” I cry, my hands gliding along the expanse of his back as he’s doubled over. “You can’t just sneak up on me like that! God, I thought you were a murderer or a kidnapper or, I don’t know, someone robbing the rink.”

I feel his shoulders shake beneath my touch. “And you thought they would be after… sports equipment, Caroline?”

“Don’t be an asshole. You scared me, okay? It’s one in the morning! What are you even doing here anyway? I thought you were at the fundraiser.”

Hudson straightens to full height, the stupid lights finally flickering on above us, illuminating his handsome face in fluorescent light. His brow is still furrowed slightly from my hit, and he glances down at the hockey stick near our feet.

“Really?”

“It was the first thing I grabbed,” I cry in defense. “You’re lucky that I swung blindly, or I might’ve gotten your face instead, and I don’t think your ego could survive a hit like that.”

His chuckle vibrates down the hallway, and my stomach flutters.

Why is his laugh that… gravelly and sexy? How can a laugh possibly be that sexy?

“Proud of you, Bubblegum, even if my kidney was the casualty in that hit. Always be prepared.” He steps closer before continuing. So close that I can smell the clean, musky scent of his cologne invading all of my senses. “You never know who’s lurking in the dark.”

With that, he brushes past me into the rink, wearing a wry smirk on his lips as he reaches up and loosens the tie around his neck. His shoulders visibly relax once it hangs open, like he’s been itching to be free of the fabric all night.

“And to answer your question, I’m here because Laura said that the alarm system hadn’t been armed yet, so I volunteered to come check it out. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

I arch a brow. “You do realize I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, right?”

“Clearly.” His gaze darts back to the closed exit door of the rink, where he almost just died by way of a hockey stick. He heads toward the back office, sitting down at the table, where my books and papers are spread everywhere. “It’s late as shit. I didn’t want you doing something risky like taking the metro or something.”

“I lost track of time studying. I didn’t even look at my phone until right before you scared the hell out of me.”

My stomach growls obnoxiously, echoing around the empty rink, and Hudson’s lips turn upward into a smirk like my impending starvation is funny.

“Hungry?” he asks, leaning back in the chair and throwing his free arm around the empty one beside him.

“A little?”

“Liar.”

I shrug. “Alright, I’m starving. I planned to be done hours ago, but apparently, biology is captivating because time flew.”

Standing, he starts closing my notebooks silently until I speak. “Um, what are you doing?”

“Picking up your stuff. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“I see that you’re picking up my stuff, but why are you doing it?” I say, placing my hand over the pink biology notebook that looks small in his massive hands, forcing his gaze to flit to mine.

He leans in closer, eyes holding mine as he pulls the notebook from beneath my hand. “You’re hungry. I’m famished. So I’m taking you to eat.”

My eyebrows rise. “It’s after 1:00 a.m.”

“Your point? It’s a proven fact that tacos and cheap beer taste better in the middle of the night.”

Okay, he’s right about that. I can’t deny it. My stomach growls again on cue, and I sigh.

It does sound good…

“Like you said to me when we first met, why are you making it a big deal? Come on, it’s just food, Caroline. I’m not asking you to have a sleepover.”

Heat rises to my cheeks as I narrow my gaze. “That would be strictly against your friends-only policy, now wouldn’t it.”

“Exactly, which is why I’m going to take you to eat, and then I’m going to drop you off at your dorm afterward. Just like a gentleman would.”

I bite my lip, thinking about how he thrust into me against the wall and buried his mouth in my pussy, whispering dirty words in the dark as he made me come.

“Whatever you’re thinking right now, don’t, Caroline,” he says gutturally. His words are low and rough like he could see the thoughts currently traipsing through my head. “A man is only so fucking strong, gentleman or not.”

“O-okay,” I say, hastily gathering the rest of my stuff and shoving it into my backpack. We close up the rink in silence and make sure the alarm is set before he leads me to the lone vehicle in the parking lot, opening the door for me to slide inside.

The blacked-out Range Rover screams Hudson. Sleek, masculine, and clean.

“Nice car,” I say once he’s in the driver’s seat and pulling out onto the highway, breaking the silence. “Very you.”

“Is it?”

“Yep.” I let the p pop, reaching into my backpack to take out the stash of strawberry watermelon Hubba Bubba that I always keep on me. Most people have an addiction to sodas or other unhealthy vices, but mine is the bright green and pink bubble gum that you find at the grocery store right by the checkout.

It started as a child, and I’ve never been able to let it go.

Nor have I tried.

I pop the bite-size piece into my mouth, chewing until it’s soft, and blow a bubble that pops loudly.

“Want a piece?” I ask Hudson. His eyebrows raise in question, but he shrugs as he lets go of the steering wheel and holds out his hand for the gum.

I watch as he chews it silently, then turns his head, our gazes locking.

“Strawberry watermelon, right?”

I nod. “My guilty pleasure.”

A look passes over his face, and then the corner of his lips turns up slightly. “It used to be my favorite flavor.”

That night. The elephant in the room that we avoid, except for tonight, apparently. Tonight, it seems almost impossible to ignore.

“It was the sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever tasted. Until you.”

* * *

My options are limitedas to where I can take Caroline since it’s after one in the morning, and the last thing either of us need is to have our photos plastered across a tabloid, becoming the latest scandal. I need a place that’s better than Five Guys and not as crowded.

It just so happens I know of the best food truck in the entire city.

“Cheesie’s?” she asks as we walk up to the bright yellow food truck that’s parked on a side street downtown near the riverfront. It’s late, so there aren’t many people in line, which makes me a little less nervous about someone snapping photos.

“You haven’t lived until you’ve had The Mac.” I grin when her eyebrows rise in question.

She doesn’t strike me as the kind of girl who turns her nose up at a food truck, and that’s part of the reason why I brought her here. Cheesie’s seems exactly like the kind of place that Caroline would love.

“Fine. I trust you. But don’t let me down, Romeo. My stomach is counting on you,” she says over her shoulder as she walks over to the picnic table to wait. I quickly rattle off the order and pay, and I stand to the side to wait for our number to be called. It’s surprisingly quick, and when I walk over to her with a handful of food, I can practically see her mouth watering. I almost ask her if she wants a beer, but then I remember she can’t order one… at least without using her fake ID.

“My god, that smells incredible,” she practically moans, inhaling the closed box in her hands.

“Just wait till you taste it.” I smirk. “Wanna walk by the riverfront while we eat?”

She nods. “Yes, definitely. That’s the one place in Chicago I haven’t had the chance to really see.”

Together, we walk toward the water, and the moment she takes her first bite of The Mac, she does moan, causing my dick to stir in my pants. Christ.

“Holy shit. I will never doubt you again, Hudson Rome. This is actually freaking incredible. Oh god, it’s so… cheesy. So. Good.”

I chuckle, my chest shaking with my laughter, “Told you. I stumbled across it a few years ago after a night out with the guys, and I had my doubts, but it was love at first bite.”

“I can see why.” She takes another massive bite, and I smile. I love that she’s not one of those girls who’s afraid to eat around a man. This girl clearly doesn’t give a shit, and I couldn’t be more attracted to her confidence.

I’ll never understand why women feel the need to hide what they eat or how much. We all eat, and trust me, the last thing I’m thinking about is the amount of food Caroline is eating. All I’m thinking about are those sweet moans of pleasure coming from her lips, regardless of how off-limits she is to me.

“So, what’s it like being a famous hockey player?” she asks as we walk, her eyes finding mine in the dim light of the streetlamps. “Being in the public eye twenty-four seven?”

“Hockey’s always been my life. It’s the one thing that always made sense. And the fans, the notoriety, the tabloids… all of that just comes with it. It’s something that I’ve learned to deal with over time, but it’s not necessarily something I love. I hate gossip sites, and I hate that I have to duck into a building to escape a camera sometimes.” I shrug, taking my last bite before finishing. “But my fans? They’re the best fans in the entire world. Their dedication and loyalty never fails to surprise me. It’s my favorite thing about playing professionally—besides the sport, obviously.”

“I can tell how much you love it. That’s inspiring to me. I mean, honestly, I’m kind of winging it eighty percent of the time.” She laughs, her blonde hair falling around her face before she tucks it behind her ear.

“You’re young—you have a while to figure shit out. It doesn’t have to be something that happens overnight. Trust me, lately, I feel kind of…” I trail off, unsure of how to explain the way that I’ve been feeling without sounding like a gigantic pussy.

“You can talk to me, Rome.” Her shoulder bumps against my side, and she smiles. So fucking sweet that it makes my chest ache, further accentuating how fucked I am when it comes to Caroline Evans. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

“I feel like I’m kind of just drifting along. I’m thirty-three, and I’ve played hockey since I was a kid, and I dunno, lately, I just feel like somewhere along the way, I lost sight of me. Who am I without hockey?”

We stop at a bench that faces the river and toss our stuff into a nearby trash can before taking a seat. She sits so close that I can smell the alluring scent of her perfume and feel the heat of her body.

Too fucking close.

“I think you can feel that way no matter what age you are, Hudson,” she says softly, turning to face me. “Life is messy that way. Just when you think you’ve got everything figured out, it tilts on its axis, and you’re left to sort out the mess that’s left behind.”

Wise words from a girl who’s still learning all about what life has to offer.

“Sometimes, it takes a shift for us to realize that it wasn’t really working before, and it’s a wake-up call to change what no longer makes us happy. Life’s too short to be anything but happy, no matter what happiness means to you.” Her gaze drifts out toward the river. “Kind of how I found myself here… in Chicago and not Seattle.”

“Things with your dad?”

It’s a subject she’s hinted at but never elaborated on, and I haven’t felt like it’s my place to ask before.

She nods, rolling her lips between her teeth, like she wants to talk about it, but it’s heavy. I get it.

“He moved to Chicago when I was twelve after my parents divorced, and our relationship was strained for a really long time. He, uh, had some health scares earlier in the year, and we both decided to let the past remain just that… the past. It’s just that we’re, like, caught in this weird limbo of remembering who we used to be while trying to learn who each other is now. I’m working really hard to let go of my hurt so I can rebuild my relationship with him.” Her words are soft. Careful. Emotion hangs on to each syllable.

“Not sure there’s a rule book for that one, Bubblegum, but something tells me that the two of you will figure it out. He loves you, and you clearly love him, too, since you moved across the country to be closer to him.” I lean back and drape my arm over the back of the bench. My fingers brush along her arm as I do, and her eyes meet mine.

“Thank you… Anyway, enough about me. Tell me about your family? Are your parents still together?” she asks.

“Very. They gross me out on the daily. I’m a grown-ass man, and my parents are basically like two teenagers who can’t keep their hands off each other.” I shudder at the thought. I love that they’re happy—truly, I do. But I do not need to see my parents making out. “I’ve got a younger sister. Her name’s Hailey, and we’re really close. We all have dinner together at least once a month, less when I’m on the road, but we make it a point to spend time together. It can be hard because I’m on the road at least six months out of the year.”

She leans back against the bench and rubs her arms as if she’s trying to warm them up, so I shrug my jacket off and drape the fabric over her shoulders. The night air is unusually cool, with a steady breeze from being this close to the water.

“Thank you,” she says, her smile so bright and blinding. “I bet I would love your family. Especially your sister. If she’s anything like you.”

“Too much like me. We butted heads a lot growing up, and I had to beat the shit out of way too many guys for looking at her.”

Caroline tosses her head back and laughs, her shoulders shaking with my jacket draped around her, swallowing her small frame. I shouldn’t love how good she looks in something that’s mine. “I can actually see you pummeling all of those poor kids who just wanted to date your sister. That seems like such a Hudson thing. You’re intense.”

I shrug. “She’s my baby sister. It was my job to protect her. And it’s the goalie in me, I think. I protect what’s mine. I’m a concrete wall—shit’s not getting past me.” I want to say except you, but I can’t. Because I can’t have her, no matter how badly I want her.

At the mention of Hailey, I realize that while she’s my baby sister, she’s still older than Caroline.

“I think that’s incredible, you know. That you’re the pillar of strength for your family and friends. I think you’re an incredible guy, Hudson, even though I hardly know you.”

I lean closer because I just can’t fucking stop myself. I can’t stop my attraction to her. I can’t stop wanting her, even when I shouldn’t. Dropping my gaze from hers, I watch as her lips part, and she licks them, her breath quickening when she realizes that I’m staring at her lips like I want to devour her whole, like the big bad wolf.

“Hudson…” she breathes as I lean in, our lips centimeters apart, so close that I could close the distance, finally giving in and taking her mouth like I’ve been dying to since the night she left me in that fucking closet.

But I can’t.

I fucking can’t.

I have to be strong. I have to resist her, even if it fucking kills me, because she’s my coach’s daughter and she’s thirteen years younger than me… and we’re already treading too close to hot water.

Clearing my throat, I stand and hold out my hand. “Time to get you home.”

Because it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.