Secret: A Military Stepbrother Romance (61 page)

…That is, until there’s a startling knock on my door and Erika’s chipper, annoying voice hollering through about the interview I need to to be ready to leave for in thirty minutes. And just like that, the fantasy of curling up with Hudson and letting the world just float away without us is shattered as the
very
real reality hits me like a ton of bricks.

“You need to get out of here!” I hiss at him, feeling panicked as I throw his pants at him. 

His grin falters as his brow furrows; “Relax, Rea-“

“I can’t
relax
, Hudson; don’t fucking tell me to rela-“

“Reagan, it’s just
one
fucking interview for what, some stupid NYU school paper?” He’s sitting up on the edge of the bed while I run around the room like a crazy person trying to hide the signs of the previous night as I yank on my black dress pants and hunt around for a clean blouse; “Look just
skip
it.”

I whirl on him, feeling furious that he’s just
sitting there
while I’m in panic mode; “Because that would be stupid and a big mistake.”

He rolls his eyes; “Oh, please, a big mista-”

“Kind of like last night.”

He freezes, his eyes narrowing at me as a shadow passes over his face. I cringe, instantly feeling like a total crazy bitch for letting it slip out like that; “Shit, Hudson, I didn’t mean it like-”

“No, forget it, you’re right.” He’s up and yanking his pants on with his back to me, and my heart drops as I realize the fantasy veil of last night has completed dropped and we’re standing in the naked reality of today.

“Mistakes happen, right?” He shrugs and flashes a thin smile at me, and right there I see his armor go right back up.

“You should get to that interview, I’ll- I need to-“ He’s at the door, opening it slowly as he peaks out and checks the hallway; “I’ve got some shit to do anyways.” He turns and looks at me coo;ly; “Don’t worry, we’ll pretend this whole little
mistake
never happened.”

And just like that, he’s slamming the door behind him and slamming the chapter shut on whatever happened last night.

Fuck.

*****

I subtly peep under the table at the phone I’ve ever-so-secretly slipped out of my purse. There are
plenty
of messages of course, but I frown when I see that his number isn’t among them. Part of me hoped he’d still just show up at my first interview today, but he never did.

“Oh,
stop it
, Ray!”

I glance up, trying to look as innocent as possible as Quinn glares at me from across the diner table, even though I know she’s busted me; “What?” Leave it to family to totally burst your bubble on feeling subtle or sneaky.

“We said no phones! That’s what!”

I roll my eyes, “Quinn, you
do
know I’m running for State Sen-”

“Yeah and when you
win
, you’ll have even less time for your boring, non-famous sisters.” Chelsea butts in.

Ten minutes; we’ve been sitting at lunch for
ten minutes
and they’re already ganging up on me. I sigh dramatically as I slip the phone back in my bag and sling it over my chair; “
Fiiiine
. So what should we talk about?”

“How about the fact that you’re a major political figure and you’re still dragging us to shitty brunch diners like this place.” Quinn says, wrinkling her nose at the plain white cup of coffee in front of her.

“Hey, this place is an
institution
, you know. Plus it’s freaking delicious; I’d eat here every day if it wouldn’t give Donald and Erika conniptions.”

“And what would Hudson think?” 

Chelsea’s snarky grin catches me off-guard, and I stumble; “W-What do you mean?”

“I mean about you eating pancakes and scrambled cheesy eggs every day.” 

I shrug as nonchalantly as I can; “I’m sure I’ve got no idea what he thinks about anything.”

Like, me, for instance.

Quinn grins at me, and I steel myself, afraid she’ll sniff out what I’m really thinking about him like some sort of sex-bloodhound; “So how
is
spending all that time with
Hot
sun going, anyways?” 

I groan; “
Qui-
”

“What?! Have you fucking seen him!” She says with mock indignance; “He’s like-”

“Packaged sex.” Chelsea butts in, making the two of them devolve into giggles and my face into total guilty embarrassment. 

“
Guys
, he’s not-”

“Oh my God,
Ray
, why are you fighting her on that? She’s totally right and you know it. Hudson is like, James Bond, but with super hot tattoos and a body off the cover of a romance novel.” She arches her eyebrows at me; “Hey, I mean if you don’t
want
that, I mean
I’m
single-”

“Quinn I think you stole
quite
enough boyfriends from me in high school.”

They both
immediately
beam at me as I realize my slip-up and die a little inside.

“
Oh. My. God.
” Quinn’s jaw drops.

“Guys, no, that is
not
what I-”

“No
fucking
way!” Chelsea stares at me with a grin on her face. She and Liz turn towards each other and start giggling again.

“Wait, no, it is
not
like-
stop that!
” People are starting to turn and look our way, and even in this greasy little diner in midtown, I know it’s a matter of time before someone realizes who I am and starts to get
really
interested in what we’re talking about so animatedly.

“Guys, seriously!” I hiss; “Keep it down!”

Chelsea is beaming at me; “Hudson fucking Banks?”

“I think it’s more ‘Hudson fucking our sister’, actually.” Quinn quips, with the predicted giggle from Chelsea and the deeper shade of red on my face.

I shake my head much to animatedly; “No
way
, of course not, he’s horrible.”

Quinn shrugs; “Well, I mean he’s crude I guess, but horrible?”

“Ugh! He’s one of Dad’s
thugs
!” I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince more, me or them.

“So?” Chelsea shrugs; “Ok, he worked for Dad; big deal. It’s not like he’s our brother or something.”

I make a face into my coffee; “Eww?”

Chelsea sighs; “No, I just mean what would be so weird about hooking up with Hudson?”

“Um, because
besides
that, how about the fact that Dad ditched us for him and his other adopt-a-veteran pals all the fucking time?”

Chelsea looks quickly down and Quinn shakes her head at me; “You need to let that one go sometime, Ray. You know Dad had his reasons for-”

“Ok, fine, whatever.”
Not
the conversation I want have in the middle of a political campaign sitting in a diner.

We sit in silence for another moment before I open my mouth again; “Ok, how about that he’s technically my campaign financier? Hello? Conflict of interest much?”

Quinn shrugs; “Archer Holdings is your campaign financier, not Hudson. So
what’s
the harm?”

I slam the coffee cup down harder than I intend, spilling the lukewarm liquid onto the countertop; “Because I feel like an idiot for sleeping with him after what happened at Dad’s wak-”

I freeze and clasp my hands to my mouth as the whole table goes silent, my sisters
staring
at me with open mouths.

Oh, fuck.

“Wait,
what?
You
did
sleep with him?!” Chelsea is wide-eyed and grinning at me. 

“You
hussy
!” Quinn clucks her teeth like a mother hen; “And oh my
God
;
what
did you do get up to at a
wake
?!”

And it’s right there, with room-temperature coffee all over my hands, sitting in a crappy little midtown diner in the middle of the afternoon that I start to cry. Quinn immediately changes her whole tune as she jumps out the booth and crams in on my side, her arms going around me as the tears and the sniffles come pouring out of me.

“Hey,
hey
now Ray.”

“I’m horrible!” I moan into my hands, feeling Quinn’s arms tighten around me.

“No, hon, you’re not.”

“But at Dad’s fucking funer-”

“You were emotional and lost, and you needed something to grab onto; and he was there.” She nuzzles my hair like she used to do when we were kids; “That’s not being horrible, Ray, that’s just being human.” She says softly.

Chelsea reaches across the table and takes one of my hands, patting it dry of coffee as I look up at her miserably; “And Hudson
isn’t
so terrible you know.”

“I know,” I sniff.

Quinn leans down to peer into my face with that wicked grin back on her face; “So, you slept with him, huh?”

I feel a horrible mixture of relief and embarrassment and sadness wash over me at the way things got left this morning with him, especially with the previous night being so incredible, and I nod quietly. 

Quinn chuckles; “So was it good?”

“Of
course
it was good, or she wouldn’t be so upset right now!” Chelsea says as she squeezes my hands, and I giggle in spite of myself. 

“Oh,
ok
, details,
now.
”

I laugh again and roll my eyes; “Quinn!” Chelsea throws a balled-up napkin at our older sister, and then we’re all laughing, and I can already feel the weight lifting from my shoulders. 

Suddenly though, Quinn turns and looks at me skeptically; “Hang on.” She bites her lip; “No, forget it.”

“Gah!
Quinn
! What?” I say, wiping my eyes on her arm. 

She gives me a look a the mascara marks I leave on her sweater before she shakes her head; “No, it’s just- I don’t know, you’ve just never really struck me as the casual hook-up type, that’s all.”

I frown; “What do you mean?”

She frowns; “I mean with
Hudson
,” She shrugs; “Hey I guess the campaign really is good at getting you out of your comfort zo- Oh
fuck
, honey-”

My face starts to crumble again, and Chelsea reaches across the table to smack Quinn’s hand.

“Soooo…
not
necessarily a casual thing.”

I dump my head in my hands; “I don’t know! No? Maybe?”
Ugh
; I fucking
hate
crying like this over some
guy
like some sort of movie cliche. But
damnit
if Hudson hasn’t wormed right under my skin.

“It’s complicated, I guess.”

Chelsea smirks at me; “Ray, your whole
life
is complicated; maybe you need a little simplicity.”

I exhale loudly; “I should let the whole thing go, shouldn’t I?”

My younger, somehow far wiser sister grins at me as she squeezes my hand; “No, I’m saying you
clearly
have a lot more feelings about Hudson than I think you’re even admitting to yourself, and like always, you’re overthinking it.”

“So-”

“So you like him, and I’m betting he likes you. So just
tell
him, Reagan.” Quinn says.

Across the table, Chelsea nods and shrugs; “Try simple for change, Ray.”

Chapter Nineteen

P R E S E N T

I end up getting a grand total of two jabs into my warm-up before I throw off my gloves with a snarl and head for the shower. There’s a brief hesitation right before I step under the spray; as if a tiny part of me is reluctant to wash the smell and the feel and the memory of her off of my skin.

‘A big mistake…kind of like last night.’

I step under the water and slam the shower-door shut.

*****

I don’t know why or even how I find myself at the cable network building where her second interview of the day is being filmed, but fuck it, I’m there. That’s what’s so twisted about this whole Reagan situation; I don’t
want
to be around her, but apparently I can’t seem to stay
away
either. The interview has already started as I stand just outside the light behind the cameras off-stage, watching her and trying not to let the fact that she’s laughing and smiling and just plain gorgeous get under my skin so much.