Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
“Hike. Zip-line. Rope swing into the deeper part of the lake—you’re going to love that.” She grinned.
“Ummm . . .” I pressed my lips between my teeth.
“Allie here isn’t what you’d call a risk-taker,” Hudson answered from the doorway.
My gaze flew to his. Man, he looked good. Really good. His hair was still wet, and his blue T-shirt stretched across muscles I hadn’t had nearly enough time to explore. Knowing I could if I wanted to yet choosing to abstain was a particular brand of torture.
“I’ll take you however I can get you.”
Yeah, those words had starred in some pretty detailed dreams this week.
“That’s not true,” I argued. “I take risks.”
“Says the woman who didn’t learn to ride a bike until sixteen.” When he’d taught me. He lifted a brow at me.
“Mom wasn’t keen on anything that could possibly lead to injury.” I stood and tried like hell to ignore the appreciation in Hudson’s gaze as it skimmed over my leggings and sports bra combo.
“Or fun,” he added. “Let’s see if I can remember correctly. No bikes, no scooters, definitely no motorcycles. No trampolines—”
“You remedied most of that, and if you had any idea how many kids are injured on trampolines, you wouldn’t fault her for that one.” I hadn’t caved on the motorcycle until I was seventeen.
Juniper traded her slippers for flip-flops and put the rest of her things in her bag.
“—no sports—” Hudson continued.
“I’d argue that ballet is a sport,” Juniper interjected, and I held up my hand. She high-fived it as she walked by, heading for Hudson.
“Oh, and definitely no boys.” He shook his head. “How does she feel about men when it comes to her daughters nowadays?”
“She trusts us to make our own choices.” I shrugged. “And I don’t tell her a lot. She knows about us, though.”
He tensed, and it must have been a lighting thing, because it looked like he paled a little too. “And how did she take that?”
“Like Mom.” There was no chance I was repeating her heinous remarks.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about,” he said slowly, patting Juniper’s head as she walked out the studio doors.
“Relax.” A smile tugged at the edges of my mouth. “She’s not going to burst in here and throw you out or threaten to ground me for a million years. She made some snide comment like always and then dismissed it.” I walked his way. “I didn’t exactly tell her the truth, and I guess she figures we won’t last long enough to throw a fit over. Besides, she’s mostly still angry at me for blowing the Giselle performance and embarrassing her.” The admission slipped out. Shit, it was getting too easy to do that around him.
His brow knit. “Your Achilles snapped. How is that embarrassing to her?”
I tugged my bottom lip between my teeth and debated a flippant reply that would keep some emotional distance between us. But in this house, in this room, it was almost easy to forget the last decade had happened. He was just Hudson, the boy who’d pulled me out of the water and forced me out of my comfort zone, who’d given endless support without a single hint that he’d ever wanted more than my friendship.
“I’ve waited eleven years to kiss you.” I’d never had a clue.
Unless that’s what he’d wanted to talk about that night.
“Can you meet me at the cove tonight?” A younger version of Hudson’s voice slipped through my head, and I blinked at the patchy memory. Trying to remember that day felt like hiking in thick fog. Wisps of clarity came and went without ever getting a full picture. But I remembered he’d asked me to skip the end of the Company social—where contracts were ceremoniously awarded like trophies—to talk that night.
And I couldn’t remember why, but I knew I hadn’t showed. Lina and I had been on our way back from the social when she—
“Allie?” Hudson prompted, leaning into my space. “You okay?”
I blinked. My ankle, we’d been talking about my ankle. “I should have prevented it.” So much for a flippant reply. “I knew I needed to rest it, that the responsible move was to call in Charlotte and take the night—maybe the rest of that month—off. I ignored the signs and went on, anyway. I took a risk, lost my footing, and now I have to deal with the consequences.” I heard the front door open, then close. “Did Juniper just leave?” I started toward the doors.
“I have the keys, so at least she can’t drive off.” His hand brushed my lower back as we passed through the studio doors.
We walked into the foyer and my stomach hit the floor.
Juniper hadn’t left, and she wasn’t alone.
Eva stood just inside the door, her sunglasses perched on her head, a canvas bag over her shoulder as she stared down at Juniper in clear confusion.