When she reaches to open the door, I snag her around the waist and move her so I can do it first.
“Don’t be a caveman.” She laughs as I set her ass on leather.
I grip the frame of my SUV because the need to kiss her is so strong I don’t dare take her face in my hands. I lean in, press my lips to hers, and groan. “You just told the story of us, claimed my ass; there’s no going back now, Brooksie.”
“Shut up.” She fists my shirt and pulls me closer as she runs her tongue across my lips.
I open up and let her fuck my mouth with her hot little tongue for as long as I can. My breaking point? When she sucks it into her mouth.
That and the person behind me laying on their horn.
She laughs as she sits back.
“Shits not funny, Riley.” I adjust my dick before closing her door and walking around the back of my SUV, scowling at the couple in the Volvo, and holler, “Rude!”
ROADIE
Riley
“You trying to convince yourself it’s going to fail when I, and the rest of us, have watched you bristle whenever Hudson Hart walked into the brewery?” That was the question Mom asked when I called her after Lo fell asleep and I was still wide awake at one o’clock this morning, freaking out.
“He’s too much,” I admitted.
“Which is perfect because he’s gonna have to fill in all those holes the two … fucking pricks didn’t, nor did they fucking deserve my little girl!” Then she started crying and, within ten minutes, she was at my door.
Three hours of crying, with me apologizing to her and her apologizing to me for listening to the advice of a therapist and thousands of dollars’ worth of books on mothers and daughters and not just locking me in a room until my brain was fully developed. Then laughing and, finally, a promise made.
I, Riley Brooks, forgive myself for mistakes I made that she insists are not my fault, and I promise to take in all the goodness Hudson Hart has to offer.
So, when Hudson slid into the car and found me laughing at him for telling off the people in the car behind us and said, “Not downplaying last night—at fucking all—but something else happened. Spill,” I exhale a breath before telling him, “You know how you send texts when you’re unsure?”
He nods and grabs his phone, but I snatch it up.
“You’re not taking notes. This is a conversation, not me telling you why I can’t be with you, or a lecture.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “What do you mean, you telling me you can’t be with me?”
I grab his face, turn him to face me, and spill it. “Instead of lying in bed, texting when I was freaking out, I called Mom. She came over, and we hashed through all my teenage angst and rebellion that spilled over to my twenties, and we basically mopped it up, cried, and laughed. I let her mom me, and she made me promise to admit I deserve more and soak up all your goodness.”
“Yeah?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“I have a lot of goodness, Brooksie. If you ever feel like you’re drowning in it, you let me know.”
“I’m a fantastic swimmer,” I assure him as I lean in and kiss his nose, just like he did to me, hoping that kind of kiss makes him feel the way he truly makes me feel—adored.
When I sit back in the seat, his eyes are closed, and he has a seriously adorable soft smile on his fuck-hot face.
Then the assholes behind us blow their horn again.
“Are you kidding me?” I laugh.
After pulling onto the street, Hudson holds takes my hand and kisses the back of it. “You remember me telling you that I’ve never felt like this?”
“Yeah.”
“Two years, I could manage it. The minute I heard you were engaged, I lost my shit. I’d rather have made you hate me for stealing a dress than not trying to do something to stop you.”
