13. Hallie

Warmth surrounds my entire body. I feel safe, wanted, needed, cozy even, as my eyes flutter from their deep slumber. My bed is a lot comfier than I recall, and my blanket is more weighted than I remember, but it’s so welcome. I feel like I am waking up from the most rested night”s sleep I have ever had. It’s only when I roll my body to appreciate my comfort that I feel something long and hard against my ass, and my eyes snap open. I’m not at home, I’m at Josh’s house, in his room, in his bed, with him, as his wife.

The warmth is him, his entire body is molded against mine, his arm slung loosely over my waist, his nose nestled neatly into my hair. I can feel him everywhere, and I do mean everywhere, every part of him. His breathing is even and flat so I know he is still asleep, which means I know he doesn’t mean to be cuddled up to me right now, and I’m sure he definitely doesn’t mean the erection he is sporting right now too. Yet that doesn’t mean I can’t feel it, and it sets every fantasy I have ever had about him on fire in my mind.

I roll my body again, this time pushing my ass out a little just to see what he is working with, and almost moan out loud as his long, thick length presses against me even more. Damn, no wonder the rumor mill is always running rampant about him, if that’s what he is toting around inside his pants. I bet he could satisfy every girl on campus with it. Just the thought has me wiggling against it again, teasing no one but myself, but before I can let my mind run too far away from itself I am startled.

“Should I always expect to wake up to my wife rubbing her ass on me, or is this a one-off?” Josh purrs in a sexy, gruff, still half-asleep tone, and I throw myself away from him so fast that I fall off the bed onto the floor.

He doesn’t even flinch.

“I was not rubbing my ass on you,” I lie boldly, forcing myself to jump to my feet and act casual, while the bastard is still lying in the same position, and all he does is cock one eye open to glare at me in disbelief. “I was trying to escape you, you were the one who was on my side of the bed with your arm wrapped around me,” I accuse, flipping the situation back onto him.

This time he rolls his eyes, rolling onto his back, and his side of the bed, as the sheet falls down and reveals his delicious strip of abs. “It’s my bed, all the sides are mine,” he declares with a yawn, and I want to punch him in his stupid, pretty face.

“I hate you,” I tell him, and he smiles.

“No you don’t,” he gleams, putting both hands behind his head as he watches me squirm, but all I can focus on is the flex of his muscles.

“Then I severely dislike you,” I amend, as I stomp towards his bedroom door in desperate need to get away from him.

“Now that’s not even slightly true,” he muses, sitting up and running his hands through his hair. “And where the hell are you going?” He flips the sheet off his lower half and then stands, stretching upwards, and it takes everything in me not to drool.

“To get coffee, I can’t deal with you when I haven’t even caffeinated yet, I might murder you.” I throw open his bedroom door in the hopes of escaping him, but he is hot on my heels as I head down to the kitchen.

“Death by dick punch seems like a terrible way to go,” he jokes, as I come to a halt on the threshold to find the kitchen already occupied. “What the fuck are you guys still doing here?” Josh grumbles, taking in Archer and Alexander sitting at the breakfast bar, and Daemon standing by the fridge silently watching them.

“Ahhh it’s the newlyweds,” Alexander cheers, holding up his coffee in the air to us like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“We were too hungover to leave before coffee,” Archer confirms, flicking his stare over the both of us before he adds, “Nice legs, Mrs. Peters.”

Josh pushes past me and smacks him across the back of the head on his way to the coffee machine. “Keep your eyes off my wife, and her legs, you little man whore.” And all I can do is pull on the hem of his jersey as I remember I am in fact, sans pants.

I skirt around the edge of the kitchen until my lower half is covered by the island, as Josh serves me a cup of coffee. When my eyes flick down to it, I can’t contain my smile when I realize the mug he has served it in is the one I got him last Christmas. When I look back to him, he is busy making his own cup, but of course Daemon is watching me carefully.

“Morning, Daemon,” I say brightly, still on a mission to become one of his friends, but all he does is offer me a nod.

Archer watches our interaction closely before focusing back on Josh. “Peters, we are heading to the rink later for a game if you want, nothing major, just us and a few of the guys off the team.”

Josh is already shaking his head. “I can’t, I’ve got family dinner at my parents’ house, where I have to tell my father I ignored his wedding plans and went ahead with my own.”

“Well that sounds fun,” Alexander drawls sarcastically, his half british accent thicker than usual for a change.

“Oh yeah, it will be the perfect family catch up,” Josh grumbles, turning around and moving so he is next to me.

“No worries, man,” Archer tells him genuinely, as if they have been friends all along, and I watch as Josh studies both him and Alexander climb to their feet and move to leave, in total confusion. “I guess we”ll just see you at practice tomorrow, and Hals, I’ll see you and your nice legs in class,” he adds with another wink, before Alexander pushes him out of the room muttering something about a death wish.

“I’m gonna kill that fucker one of these days, he’s a pain in the ass,” Josh snaps, and I use the opportunity to slip from his side and climb onto one of the stools at the island, tucking his jersey tightly under my thighs.

I wave my hand in the direction they just left. “Ignore Arch, he’s like that with everyone, I swear it’s just a defense mechanism. He’s not as bright and happy as he seems,” I muse out loud, sipping my coffee as I think about the faraway look he gets in his eyes sometimes.

“Then what’s he like?” The question comes from Daemon, and it has my new husband”s head snapping towards his friend in both surprise and intrigue.

I think about his question, and about what I have observed in the little time I have spent with his teammate, and I answer honestly. “I think he’s lonely. I think he just needs someone to want him, to need him, and I mean truly need him so he can live up to his full potential. He has a big heart, I’m just not sure he knows how to use it yet.”

Daemon takes in every one of my words, absorbing them whole, and I swear I can see him turning each of them over in his mind, like a puzzle with a piece he can’t quite get to fit. Then when he notices that Josh and I are still staring at him, he dumps his coffee into the sink and stalks from the room without another word.

“Okay was it just me, or was that weird?” Josh asks, turning towards me totally bemused, but my mind is still on his friend, on my friend, on the way they act around each other, and something in my mind clicks.

“Are they always like that around one another?” I ask, wondering if Josh has seen it too.

“Who, Daemon and Archer?” he replies and I nod, sipping some more of my coffee which of course he made exactly how I like. “Yeah pretty much, they have hated each other since first year, but no one knows why.”

Oh, I think I know why.

“How interesting,” I muse out loud, looking at them in a whole new light now, especially after how Daemon reacted on Halloween during truth or dare, and last night when Archer brought it up again. Yes, very interesting indeed.

“What’s interesting?” My new husband questions, and I can’t help but smile at how clueless he is. Boys can be so dumb sometimes.

“Oh nothing,” I tell him, focusing back on him and my coffee. “Now are you making your wife some breakfast, or do I have to starve and beg first?”

Josh”s eyes meet mine instantly, his mouth taking on a wicked smirk as he leans across the island from me and purrs, “I could definitely get down with some begging.”

The breath clears from my lungs and it takes every ounce of respect and self control to not react to his flirty remarks, especially when I know he doesn’t really mean it. Especially when I also now know what his lips taste like, what his body feels like against mine. It would be so easy to give in, to taunt and tease him in return, and rip up that list of rules and forget all about them. Yet if I let myself do that I won’t just fall, I’ll break. I’ll smash into a million pieces at his feet and he won’t have the map to put me together.

So instead I smile and say, “Just because I have your ring on my finger, doesn’t mean I wont dick punch you again when you act like a douche.”

His smile turns to a laugh, one so carefree and familiar that it almost knocks me off balance. “I forgot how fun you are to hang out with, Tink, I’ve missed you,” he tosses back without a care, as he turns to the fridge and starts rummaging through some ingredients, not realizing the hope his words flutter into my heart.

“Yeah, I’ve missed you too.” More than you’ll ever know.

The rest of the morning is spent with us having breakfast together, him breaking our wedding news to his very hungover and confused housemates, Levi and Landon, when they walk through the door, and then Josh getting ready for the dinner at his parents, before we drive over to my house so I can do the same.

By the time we arrive at his childhood home with Maddie in tow, all of us are feeling the tension this place represents. So when Josh slips his hand into mine to play our part, I can’t help but silently squeeze it three times. Are you okay? He only squeezes it back once. No.

When we walk through the door I see the same thing as always, an immaculate and beautiful house that somehow still feels cold and uninviting. And when Hugo Peters appears, I remember the reason why. His stare is on us in an instant, taking in our proximity to one another, my hand in his son’s, before flicking it over to Maddie and giving her a once over before dismissing her completely. Same as always, except now I am in the lion”s den with them, and not just watching from the sides.

“You’re late,” he drawls, even though we are right on time, before he turns on his heels and we are forced to follow him.

We are led to the dining room like lambs to the slaughter, where we find Josh’s mother and grandmother already waiting in their usual designated seats. This isn’t the first time I have joined them for a family dinner, having frequented many over the years, but this is the first time I feel nervous to be an unwilling participant.

Of course Hugo takes his usual seat at the head of the table, with his wife on his left, and his mother on his right, gesturing for the rest of us to take our place. Maddie takes the spot next to her mom, and Josh leads me to the other side, where he chooses the space next to his grandmother, and pulls out the chair next to him for me, leaving me the furthest from their father.

“Mom, grandma,” Josh greets them politely as always, taking his seat beside me, and then eventually flicking his stare full of contempt to his dad. “Father,” he adds, in a less polite tone, and I prepare my shield for an onslaught of battle before the dinner has even started.

The tension is thick in the air as Josh and his father have a silent stare off, neither one of them willing to back down, and when I flick my stare to my best friend, she looks just as nervous as I’m sure I do. The silence continues to loom around us as the servers bring out the first dish, and when I cast my eyes down to the plate placed in front of me, I have to swallow my groan. Years of posh parties and fancy dinners means I am more than equipped to know that the dish in front of me is lobster bisque. Shellfish. My worst nightmare.

I have always struggled with food, often sticking to the same comfort meals that I am used to just to get by, but it’s hard when you are eating out, or at other people’s houses. Of course, given the years of enduring meals just like this, it means I also know not to make a scene, and I remain tight-lipped as everyone else is also served. I don’t mind staying quiet, but apparently my new husband didn’t get the memo.

“Is this lobster?” he asks, breaking the silence, looking at me with nothing but concern, and I curse inwardly. Both he and Maddie know the issues I have with food, and have never had a problem catering to them, but I don’t expect his family to.

“Josh, it’s fine,” I whisper, praying he just lets this go.

“What’s the problem?” his father booms down the table, all ready to tuck into his own appetizer, and I cringe a little at his tone, but Josh doesn’t even flinch.

“The problem is Hallie has been coming to dinner here for almost a decade, surely you know she doesn’t like lobster, or shellfish of any kind for that matter,” he snaps right back, glaring at his father with nothing but hate.

“Oh, Hallie, I’m sorry dear, I didn”t realize,” his mom jumps in to say, trying to placate the situation, but of course like father like son, neither of them can let it go.

His father”s eyes are a mixture of amusement and intrigue as he takes a sip from his drink and smiles, “I’m sure she will survive just this once, son.”

Like a moth to a flame I can feel him ready to explode, so I put my hand on his leg and plead, “Josh, seriously it’s fine, I’m the fussy one, don’t even worry about it.”

My actions and words are no use as he turns to me and snaps, “Hallie, you aren’t fussy, you have a sensory aversion to certain foods that is fairly easy to manage.” My heart soars at not just his attention to detail, but his care too, then he turns back towards his father and with a voice like quiet death he seethes, “So, can you cater to my wife”s needs or should we find somewhere else to enjoy our dinner?”

His words hit three targets perfectly, as his father, mother, and grandmother all repeat in unison, “Wife?”

Without pause Josh slips his hand into mine, bringing them up to the table where his wedding band is now clear and visible. “Hallie and I got married yesterday in a small, private ceremony,” he confirms, brushing his thumb over my knuckles in comfort. “Mom, grandma, I have photos that I can send you both if you’d like, and father, I will send you the marriage license as I’m sure you’ll want to authenticate it.”

Sarcasm drops into his tone, as his statement leaves the room so silent you could hear a pin drop, and all I can do is hold onto his hand like my life depends on it, no doubt crushing his knuckles in the process. I wait for the backlash but it doesn’t come, it appears his mother and grandmother are speechless, as they both turn to Hugo and wait for his response.

For once he is looking at Josh like a father should a son, with nothing but pride and admiration in his eyes, and it isn’t there just to fool any potential voters. It’s like he is finally seeing his son and heir become a man and achieve something. It should give me some satisfaction to see it, but I know the real man behind the Mayor, and all it does is leave a sour taste in my mouth.

I reach for my water as Hugo finally breaks the silence. “Ariel,” he snaps to one of the servers. “Some champagne for everyone, and please bring my daughter-in-law a salad.” I choke on the liquid in my mouth at being called his daughter-in-law, and now the patriarch of the house has spoken, both his wife and mother rush to give us their congratulations.

“Congratulations, sweetheart,” Josh’s mother coos. “And welcome to the family, Hallie dear,” she adds sweetly, yet I can see the hesitation in her eyes as they flick over the two of us.

His grandmother however raises her glass of wine in cheers, nodding in agreement with her daughter-in-law, before she adds, “Yes very nice, just try to keep your dick away from women who aren’t your wife, young man, you don’t want to turn out like your father.”

Now it’s Mrs. Peters who chokes on her drink, as Maddie’s jaw also drops at her words, but as always his father dismisses his wrongdoings like they are irrelevant, and holds up his glass towards us. “Oh, the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree now does it, son, this is fantastic news.”

Josh’s hand tightens within mine now and I know he is confused by his father’s reaction, which I can’t say I blame him, because I definitely expected some backlash about our shotgun wedding. “Fantastic news?” Josh questions, flicking his stare to his sister, who looks equally confused, before focusing back on his father. “You”re not mad?”

The server comes back with the champagne, pouring a glass for the Mayor first of course, before coming around to the rest of us. When she reaches me, she lowers her voice and whispers, “Your salad will be out in a moment, Mrs. Peters.”

Mrs Peters. Fuck.

I almost inhale my champagne after that, even though I hate the taste, and the fact that the bubbles feel like static on my tongue, as his father finally answers him. “Mad? Why would I be mad? My son has attached himself to the sole heir of Sanders Finance, I couldn’t ask for a better match.”

Bile churns in my stomach at his view of the world, and even worse, marriage, especially when I have, as he puts it, attached myself to his son. And I don’t know why I’m surprised, he did pick me for this arranged marriage, I guess he doesn’t really care when or where we did it, just as long as we did.

“I didn’t marry her because of who her father is,” Josh snaps, pulling our hands into his lap, and I can practically feel the anger vibrating off of him.

“No, but it doesn’t hurt to have that kind of backing when you pursue a career in politics. Good campaigns require deep pockets,” his father jokes, offering me a wink. “I’m sure Hallie understands and agrees with that, son. A big spring wedding would have been preferred, but we can still spin this in the right way,” he claims, tucking into his lobster. “I can see the headlines now praising, ‘Mayor’s son claims his bride, next stop: his title’.” He smiles as he talks, no doubt imagining that exact scenario where Josh and I skip off into the sunset as he becomes just like his father.

Clearly he doesn’t know his son very well.

I’m sure Maddie can see the tension rising in her brother as well as I can, because she quickly tries to change the subject. “Mom, this recipe is great, did you come up with it?” she asks, trying to turn the focus away from Josh, but of course his father doesn’t relent.

“Hallie, you’ll make a great wife, my son can charm the voters with his words, and you can charm them with your…” he trails off, his eyes gesturing towards my chest, and his son sees red.

“Don’t fucking look at her like that,” he seethes, pushing his chair back as he shoots to his feet. “And how many fucking times do I have to tell you, I am never going to be a fucking politician,” he yells, storming from the table, as I am granted a real look at the true colors of the mayor as he watches him leave.

Hugo stands to follow him, but I jump to my feet and stare him down. “I’ll go, you stay and enjoy your lobster,” I smile sweetly, as I yell fuck you over and over again in my mind, until he relents with a nod.

“That’s a good idea, dear, I’m sure you can persuade him to calm down and remember his manners better than I can,” he drawls with a wink, and I have to refrain from giving him the finger as I leave. It’s that or an axe to the face, I’d enjoyed both.

By the time I catch up with Josh, I find him pacing along the corridor of his father’s office, tension and anger pouring out of him in waves. Gone is the Josh who joked and flirted with me over breakfast this morning, and the one left standing in front of me, is the one I hate the most. It’s the one who has been torn down and berated by his father time and time again, until he is barely a shadow of himself. I hate it, I always have, but I hate Hugo Peters even more.