47. Hudson

47

HUDSON

“ Y es, you have to wear the mask, Hudson. It’s a masquerade party!” Cruz declares, as he adjusts his own mask in the mirror of my bathroom.

Cruz’s date fell through, which he has expressed his disdain about more times tonight than baseball games I’ve played this season. Since my date, the queen of the club, had to be at the club early, I agreed to go with Cruz so he didn’t have to show up alone.

I wasn’t all that concerned about who I showed up with, other than that I would have preferred the gorgeous redhead that is my current obsession on my arm. But Jake just messaged me and said the media was swarming outside the club.

We’ve nearly clinched a playoff spot, and knowing they are there snapping pictures of anyone coming in might draw some unwanted attention that I’m certain Coach would not appreciate.

Actually, these masks are a good idea.

“Do you have another one that covers more of my face?” I shift the mask that covers my forehead, eyes, and nose. It’s black, with rose gold colored lines embossed over the front and the top cut out in a fashion that resembles a king’s crown.

“Oh, hell no. I had those specially made to match Ember’s. You are wearing that one.” He steps out of the bathroom. Cruz always looks good in pretty much anything he wears, be it casual or black tie. But tonight, he belongs on a high fashion runway.

His charcoal suit is tailored to his body, a purple satin vest that matches a purple bow tie that only he could pull off. His mask matches himself—black, white and purple designed throughout—one side of the mask flares out over the top of his head, and I couldn’t envision a better look for him.

I look down at myself, straightening my tux. I didn’t opt for anything, since I let Cruz dress me to match Ember. I’ve never worn all black everything. It’s definitely not my style, but I don’t hate it. Black tux, black shirt, black vest, black tie. It’s very John Wick.

I take one more look at myself in the mirror, running my hands through my newly styled hair that I just had cut earlier today.

With the black suit, mask, my new haircut, and slight stubble I decided not to shave today, I wonder if Ember will even recognize me.

I know I won’t miss her.

My eyes find her in any room she’s in, like they are drawn to wherever she is.

I didn’t get to see the dress on her, but I did see it on its hanger when she left earlier today. She is beautiful in anything she wears, but that dress already looked sexy as shit on that goddamn hanger. She’s going to bring that to life when she slips it on, just like she does everything else she touches.

I know that she’s been busy with the club, but I also know she’s been pulling away slowly. It’s been gradual, but the same fleeting feelings I had when I first met her have returned. She’s been preparing herself to run. Except this time, I know she feels like it’s time because the season is almost over and she’s protecting herself.

I hate that I feel like I’m already losing her. Which is why I never told her of the five-year contract that Coach told me about. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that option was on the table, for fear she would leave earlier than the end of the season.

I want her to decide to stay… for me. For us.

I know I have to confess everything to her. I have to risk it all to keep her. I just haven’t had the guts to bring it up yet.

“Are you ready to head out?” I ask Cruz as I walk out of my room.

“I’ve been waiting for your lagging ass,” Cruz replies, his ass plopped on top of my kitchen island, like he owns the place.

“Get your ass off the table where I eat.” I wave my hand at him.

“Ember sits here all the time,” he fights back, not moving.

“Her ass is welcome there,” I reply with a smile, because her ass is welcome anywhere.

“Ugh, fine.” He pushes himself off, landing on his feet.

“Am I driving?” I assume I am, so I’m already reaching for my keys.

“Oh, hell no. There is a limo waiting for us downstairs. I expensed it.” He shrugs, heading out the front door I’m holding open for him. “Ember might be the queen of this club, but I am, by default, its prince, and a prince arrives in style, baby.”

Jesus, I’m arriving at a very public event in a limo with Cruz. I chuckle at the prospect of the media headlines. “This should be fun,” I whisper to myself, following behind a very excited Cruz.

The spectacle outside of the club is completely out of control. The police have an area blocked off, where protestors are chanting and holding signs. Nothing I know they didn’t expect, but the sight is still pretty jarring.

These people are taking time out of their life to protest, in such a violent way, what others do with their bodies and their choices in their sexuality. I just can’t justify that.

We pull up to the front of the club, and the building is lit up from top to bottom. Spotlights shine from the ground up, over the building, and criss-cross on the front, bringing attention to the all capital letters, AFTERBURN, in a deep red. A white back-light snakes around the back of the letters, bringing more life to it. Again, just like Ember.

I can’t help but smile seeing all of this come together, all because she had one idea and a big vision, with an even bigger ambition.

Cruz exits the limo first, his arms flying straight to the sky, waving at everyone outside. There is some media here, but no one famous is showing up other than some social media influencers. Or I guess, perhaps some famous people, but I’m sure their intention is like mine. Anonymity, or as much as possible.

Fortunately, Cruz is an attention whore, and they don’t pay much attention to me, as I slink out behind him, walking straight to the front door of the club.

Seamus, who is part of one of two teams hired to run security for the event, is at the front.

He typically doesn’t do private events like this one, but when Ember told Dietrich she knew him, he agreed to do it as a favor for her, for me, knowing the potential crowd it would draw with how much protesting was going on.

He’s not wearing a mask, but he’s in all black like me. His dark hair is a tad longer than the last time I saw him, but he is completely clean shaven, wearing a scowl that would scare off a lion .

I walk up, holding out my hand as we slap them together with a quick chest bump hug and pat on the shoulder. His death stare as he surveys the crowd doesn’t falter, even during our bro hug, and he grabs the large brass handle to the door, pulling it open for me to enter.

“There’s a lot going on here with the crowd.” He nods into the building. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

He seems a bit on edge, as his eyes bounce in every direction. I can’t imagine how difficult it is to try to keep order. Especially with some of the protestors and monitoring who is trying to get in the building.

I nod and give him a quick salute as I walk through the door. Cruz follows right behind me.

The environmental change is instant. Like walking through a portal into another dimension. Once the door shuts, the media crowd shouting for pictures and protestors disappear, and the music from the entrance of the dimly lit club scales itself.

It mixes with the sound of the floor to ceiling waterfall that sits behind a welcome desk. The “XConnect Live” appears through the middle of the flowing water, and the name of the club, in big bold, over the top.

There are two people at the front who check our IDs and hand us glasses of champagne.

“Feel free to walk around and explore for yourself. Anyone with a red mask with glowing “X” on it is an employee. You can ask for anything you might need. If you’re here to meet someone from the app, you are welcome to wait in the Chat Room. ”

“Thank you.” Cruz downs his champagne like a shot, then hands it back to her. “I’ll have another, Jasmine.” He lifts his mask and winks.

“Oh my god, Cruz. I didn’t recognize you, otherwise I wouldn’t have been so professional.” She blushes as she leans in, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and gives him another glass.

“Thanks, baby,” he replies, with another wink.

Cruz is gay, right? Maybe he’s bi. I have no idea now. That whole interaction just confused me.

I instantly forget about it when I round the corner of the waterfall and see the vast open space of the main area of the club.

Ember’s vision coming to life is truly unbelievable. It has the same bones from when I saw it a few weeks ago, but with the ambient lighting and music bringing the entire space to life, it’s surreal. The centrally located bar, mirrored with glass and up-lighting, gives birth to the club spreading throughout the entire area. It’s full of people; some standing around the high tables that surround the bar, others that are seated around it.

My eyes hone in on one guy leaning against the corner of the bar. He’s wearing a mask, but I’d recognize that stiff, arrogant body language even if I were blindfolded.

Henry stands sipping his whiskey, taking in the people all around the room.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I knew the moment he found out he would do his research. He’s way too resourceful when he has an agenda that he’s blinded by.

I have no idea what he’s up to, what his intentions are, or what he decided to show up here for, but I refuse to let him get to me. I spent far too many years allowing him to ruin moments like these.

As if he knew I was here, he glances over in my direction, smiles as he lifts his drink in a distant toast, with a quick dip of his chin, then turns around.

The usual Henry would already be heading in my direction, trying to rile me up. But he seems uninterested. Which is bizarre.

Taking Ember’s advice, I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt. He’s trying to turn a new leaf, rekindle the volatile relationship that has defined us our whole life.

Forgiveness starts with a choice, and I’m choosing to do that. But later.

Right now, I have a gorgeous wife to find.

I glance around the room again, taking in the vision that Ember has brought to life and the people here enjoying it. I’m not surprised when my eye catches a rose gold mask in the crowd, and I don’t need the confirmation of her gorgeous cinnamon hair or emerald eyes that peer through the disguise to know it’s her.

As if she can sense my presence as well, she turns my direction. A smile crawls over her face that she doesn’t even attempt to conceal, and it makes my heart swell to the size of a fucking watermelon.

Jesus, she does everything to me.

I told her once I loved her, and I meant it. But it was in a moment that diminished the seriousness behind it. She never said anything, and I was too much of a pussy to tell her how serious I was in fear of her running.

I have to tell her how I feel tonight. Our arrangement needs to end, because that was built on fake feelings and a need of benefit for us both. Neither of which matter anymore.

The only thing that matters is my future with Ember, our future together. And I won’t leave here tonight without telling her exactly how I feel.