Page 127 of Slap Shot
“I’m glad you like them. I know they don’t fix the things that didn’t go right today. They don’t solve the problems, but they don’t make anything worse.”
“I like that sentiment.” I lean against the door frame. “You got Lucy to calm down? And you cleaned the kitchen? Are you a miracle worker, Bombshell?”
His blush deepens, cheeks bright pink. “Hardly. It took us a minute. Several minutes, actually. I sat with her and let her cry. When she wore herself out, I asked if she wanted to help me with something. We made cleaning the kitchen a game. After, we went and got some fresh air on a walk to the grocery store up the road. Bringing the dogs helped, too. You know she loves Gus and Millie.”
There’s a thrumming behind my ribs the more he talks. It’s not painful, but something more wonderful: a steady, soothing warmth. I’ve never experienced it before, and it moves all over my body, from my spine to my toes.
I blink. When Hudson hands the doll he’s holding over to Lucy and gives her a smile, the understanding hits me like a ton of bricks.
How I missed it before, I don’t know, because it’s so stupidly obvious.
I have a crush on Hudson Hayes.
An alarmingly real, alarmingly serious crush, where just being around him makes everything better. I can breathe easier. I can think clearer. The night has totally turned around, and it’s all because of him.
Maybe I should’ve tried harder to suppress these feelings. I’m the one who threw the label offriendson our relationship, but I don’t want that to be the word to define us anymore.
I wanthim, in any way I can have him, because he’s the epitome of perfection. He’s magic and stardust and everything I’ve ever dreamed about when I let my cynical heart imagine falling for another man somewhere down the road.
He makes me believe, and that’s not something I’ve done in a very long time.
“What about dinner?” My voice shakes. How could I have missed all the signs? How long have my feelings been hiding from me? How much time have I wasted? “Should I make something?”
“Pizza should be here in ten minutes. Want a glass of wine? I picked up some of that red you like when we grabbed the flowers.”
“Would you judge me if I drank the whole bottle?”
“Not in the slightest.” Hudson stands and offers his hand to Lucy. “Let’s eat.”
THIRTY-SEVEN
HUDSON
Madeline isbeautiful when she smiles.
She’s beautiful all the time, but seeing her and Lucy laugh through dinner makes my brain do this stupid thing where it pretends there’s a world out there where she likes me as much as I like her.
And,fuck, do I like her.
I caught her sneaking glances at me over her third slice of pepperoni pizza and I panicked, thinking I had sauce on my cheek. When I asked her what was wrong, she only shrugged. Gave me a coy smile and went back to eating.
What I would give to be inside her head.
We watch TV with Lucy on the couch until she falls asleep, curled against my side with a drop of drool dried on her cheek. When she starts to snore softly, I walk her to her room and tuck her in bed. Madeline kisses her forehead then follows me down the hall, her presence all-consuming.
Back in the kitchen, we wash the dishes from dinner in silence. I drop the last plate in the dishwasher and lean against the counter. It’s dangerous to be around her when I’m thinking about her.
I want to take her bottom lip between my teeth. I want to know what she would look like with a hickey on her neck, and I want to pour the last of her wine in her mouth then kiss her until she’s breathless.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, finding neutral ground. It’s safe, polite. The antithesis of the war raging in my head.
“Much better. That time to myself was exactly what I needed. I know I’ve already said it tonight—I’m pretty sure it’s all I’ve said to you since you opened your door to Lucy and me, because you’ve been nothing but kind—but thank you, Hudson. For stepping in. For helping me. For showing me respect in my moments of weakness. And—” Her bottom lip quivers. God, do I want to kiss her. “Thank you for not looking at me differently after I failed as a parent today.”
“Hey.” I step toward her so we’re inches apart. “You didn’t fail at anything. You had an off day because you’re human. Do you know how many off days I’ve had? Hundreds. Thousands, if we’re being honest, and a lot of those have come in the last five years. None of us can be perfect all the time, Madeline, and no one should feel like they’re carrying the weight of responsibilities alone. I’m here. I know I’m not a parental figure to Lucy, but we’re friends. She’s in my life, and I’m glad for it. That’s why I’m going to be better about lending a hand. Not because you’ve done something wrong, but because you’ve done so many things right.”
“Friends.” Her laugh is a heavy exhale, a shake of her head. The sound makes me nervous, and she looks at the floor instead of at me. “I’m starting to hate that word.”
“Did I do something to make you think you’re not my friend?”
