by Nicola Marsh
‘He knows you care, in here.’ He pointed to his heart. ‘People who mean the most to us know how we feel about them even if we haven’t seen them in ages and Bluey’s one of the good guys. He knows how you feel.’
‘Stop, you’ll make me bawl,’ she murmured, swiping a hand across her eyes. ‘Did you know he used to buy my favourite teen magazines and leave them lying in the nook for when I got home from school?’
The image of big, bad Bluey raiding the local newsagent for teen magazines made Hudson smile. ‘That’s going above and beyond.’
‘And not just that,’ she said, her eyes glazed, lost in memories. ‘He’d make sure the dance floor was clear for an hour a day after school so I could practise. No band rehearsals, no roadies doing sound checks, just me and my music.’
‘He’s a thoughtful guy.’ Hudson didn’t add that maybe Bluey had lavished affection on Mak because he’d never had kids of his own and he’d had a massive crush on her mum.
‘He even lent me money once, when I wanted to buy Mum a special perfume for her birthday.’ She pressed the pads of her fingertips to her eyes and took a few breaths, blowing out slowly. ‘Doesn’t seem fair, that I’ve only just reconnected and he’ll be gone soon.’
Sadly, life wasn’t fair. He knew that better than anyone. But Mak didn’t need his cynicism right now.
‘Bluey’s a realist. And I think you are too. Life’s hectic, for everyone. He gets it. Just pop in when you can. He’ll appreciate it.’
He made it sound so simple when in reality if Mak nailed the Grober audition she’d be heading overseas sooner rather than later. But he didn’t want to think about that now and he certainly didn’t want that putting a dampener on what was left of this evening.
‘Who made you so wise?’ She balled her serviette and threw it at him.
He caught it and waggled a finger at her. ‘I’ve always been wise, babe. Took you long enough to wake up to it.’
She poked her tongue out at him, grabbed a few fries and swiped them through ketchup. ‘Thank you,’ she said, popping the fries into her mouth and chewing, eyeing him with gratitude.
‘For what?’
‘For bringing me here today.’ She gestured around the room. ‘I needed to reconnect with my past. I just hadn’t realised how much until tonight.’
‘You’re welcome.’
Damned if that uncomfortable ache in his chest wasn’t back, as if he’d eaten too many barbecue ribs.
She glanced at him from beneath lowered lashes. ‘Can I tell you something?’
‘Anything.’
‘Sharing this trip down memory lane has been extra special because you’re here.’
That annoying ache intensified, making him want to blurt exactly how he felt. But she hadn’t called him on his earlier slip-up. In fact, she couldn’t have run out of the bedroom any faster if she’d tried, which told him exactly how this would go if he blabbed his true feelings.
‘I’ve enjoyed being here.’ He forced a warm smile, when in fact he wanted to haul her into his arms and bury his face in her hair.
‘Okay, enough of the mushy stuff.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘Let’s demolish this amazing food, then you can take me home.’ Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. ‘I have a very important audition to research.’
Any hope he’d harboured of spending the night withered and died right then. This was important to her. Her lifelong dream. He got it.
Didn’t mean he had to like it.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
SINCE CHARLOTTE’S NEW boss had appeared on the scene, it wasn’t unusual for her flatmate to stay late at work and get home around midnight. Makayla had never been gladder to have the place to herself than tonight.
Hudson had dropped her off thirty minutes ago. She’d showered, changed into her old cotton rugby jersey and sat on the sofa ever since, doing an online search for Reg Grober’s upcoming shows.
The extent of Reg’s backing in the theatre world blew her mind. As for the Broadway show she’d be auditioning for...if she got it, she’d be set. A major gold star on her CV. Leading to the type of roles she’d only ever dreamed about until now.
This was it.
Her big break.
So why the niggle of worry that wouldn’t quit?
She knew the cause. Hudson. The guy who’d stolen her heart once before and had recaptured it a second time around.
But this time was worse, so much worse. This time, she’d become emotionally invested to the point of envisaging him in her life every single day and he had too.
She’d been sure he’d been on the verge of blurting his feelings in her old bedroom. He’d said the L word, before masking it with some lame sidestep. And she’d been glad. Relieved. It was too much, too soon. She couldn’t handle landing her dream job and dream man in the same night.
Unfortunately, the two would be mutually exclusive.
Get the job, lose the guy.
It should be a no-brainer. She’d told him right from the start that she’d never let any man jeopardise her dream. He knew the score. But outlining a bunch of clear-cut rules to continue having the best sex of her life was a far cry from falling for him and realising she couldn’t have it all, no matter how much she wanted it.
A key rattled in the door a second before it opened, and Charlotte padded into the room, holding her shoes in one hand, a briefcase in the other. She jumped when she caught sight of Makayla sitting in the semi-darkness.
‘Hey, everything okay?’
‘Grab the wine and I’ll let you know.’
‘Okay.’ Charlotte dumped her shoes and briefcase before heading to the kitchen. ‘Though I’d rather have a hot chocolate at this time of night.’
‘Make mine a double,’ Makayla called out, knowing that even the smoothness of decadent chocolate wouldn’t help her sleep tonight.
Her head was a spinning whirl of ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’ that no amount of alcohol or chocolate could dull.
‘Here you go, a Charlie special with extra marshmallows.’ Charlotte handed her a mug and sank into the armchair opposite.
‘Charlie? I thought you hated being called that.’
‘I do.’ Charlotte wrinkled her nose. ‘Not only is my new boss a sadistic prick who gets off by torturing me from afar with enough work for ten people, he’s now taken to calling me Charlie over the phone.’
‘And you put up with it?’
‘I need this job.’ Charlotte cradled her mug in both hands and blew on the steaming drink. ‘But I promise you this. The day that the Neanderthal sets foot in the office in person is the day I accidentally on purpose drive a stake through his heart.’
Makayla laughed. ‘I’d like to see that.’
‘Anyway, tell me about your day and why you’re out here sitting in the dark. Didn’t you have a dinner date with Mr Gorgeous? I thought you’d be staying over at his place tonight.’
‘Loads happened so I thought it better I sleep here tonight.’
‘Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?’
Makayla shook her head. ‘Not trouble as such, more like complications.’
‘Want to talk about it?’ Charlotte sipped at her hot chocolate. ‘I may have zero experience with men but I’m a good listener.’
Makayla didn’t know where to start. So she left out the phenomenal sex-capades and the stroll down memory lane, and jumped in at the deep end.
‘Hudson has used his influence in the theatre industry to get me an audition with a media mogul who needs a dancer for his latest show on Broadway.’
Charlotte almost spat her hot chocolate out. ‘Really? Oh, my God, that’s incredible.’
‘Yeah, I know, right? I’m over the moon. Can’t quite believe it, to be honest. Not that I have the gig yet, but I have a shot and that’s incredible in itself.’
A frown
dented Charlotte’s brow. ‘So what’s the problem?’
Makayla cupped her hands around the mug, letting the warmth infuse her. It didn’t remove the chill seeping through her bones at the thought of walking away from Hudson.
‘I may have fallen for Hudson and I don’t want to be in love, because it’ll ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for. Plus I don’t want to hurt him after he’s been so great to me, casting me as the lead in his show here then giving me this other incredible opportunity. So I’m feeling torn between my dream and the guy, when I shouldn’t be. It shouldn’t be an issue. I’d usually pick the dream every time. But this is Hudson...argh...’ She ran out of steam and slumped back in the sofa, careful not to slosh hot chocolate everywhere.
Charlotte stared at her with round eyes. ‘That’s some dilemma.’
‘Tell me about it.’ Makayla sipped at her hot chocolate. The faster she drank it, the less likelihood she’d end up wearing it if this discussion got animated. ‘You’re the least boy-crazy woman I know, Charlotte. You’re sensible and logical and I value your unbiased opinion. So tell me what you think.’
Charlotte hesitated before placing her mug on the coffee table and resting her hands in her lap. ‘Okay, but before I say anything, you know I’ve never had a boyfriend so maybe I’m not qualified to give any advice.’ Charlotte blushed. ‘I’m a sad case, I know. Still want my opinion?’
‘Please. You’re sensible and I need that right now.’ Makayla nodded. ‘You can talk me down off this ledge of my own making.’
‘Well.’ Charlotte blew out a breath. ‘Is there a chance you can have the proverbial cake and eat it too? Get the job and the guy?’
‘How? If I get the job I’ll be based in New York indefinitely, which is my dream. I can’t ask Hudson to wait around for me. I wouldn’t do that to him.’
Charlotte frowned. ‘Good point. What about a long-distance relationship?’
A flare of hope made Makayla sit up before she slumped again. ‘I won’t have the funds to fly back and see him once every six months and I wouldn’t expect him to make all the effort, flying all that way to see me. Wouldn’t be fair.’ She shook her head. ‘Besides, have you seen how hot he is? Could I really expect him to fend off countless women for the chance of intermittent phone sex and a face-to-face once or twice a year?’
‘If he feels the same way you do, he might be interested?’
He did feel the same way and that was part of her problem. If she made it on Broadway, she didn’t need the distraction of wondering if Hudson was okay with their long-distance arrangement, of how he was coping and with whom.
She’d maintained her independence until now for a reason. Nothing and no one came between her and her dream. Unfortunately, her stupid heart had betrayed her this time and she felt far more for the guy than she should.
‘Sorry, sweetie, the long-distance suggestion is about as logical as I get at this time of night.’ Charlotte smothered a yawn. ‘Let’s sleep on it and I’ll let you know if I come up with anything in the morning.’
‘Thanks for listening.’ Mak finished off the last of her hot chocolate and stood. ‘On a more practical note, you mentioned moving out a few weeks ago and our lease comes up for renewal soon. With me potentially moving, shall I inform the agent to go ahead and advertise it?’
‘No. Give me a few more weeks,’ Charlotte said, wrinkling her nose. ‘The place I had my eye on is way more than this one and if I can’t take any more of the boss’s crap, I may be looking for a new job soon.’
‘Okay.’ Makayla hesitated, knowing her flatmate’s love life was none of her business, but feeling obligated to say something. ‘Don’t shoot the messenger, okay? But you’ll never find a boyfriend if you don’t go out. Mingle. Have fun.’
‘I go out,’ Charlotte said, crossing her arms in classic defensive posture.
‘Grocery shopping and yoga don’t count.’
Charlotte poked out her tongue. ‘I know you’re right but I can’t summon the energy to go on bad dates. And the online sites or app thing isn’t my scene.’ She blushed. ‘I’m not into casual hook-ups.’
Makayla covered her mouth in mock horror. ‘Don’t tell me you want a commitment.’
This time, Charlotte blew a raspberry. ‘Something like that.’
‘I’ll make you a deal. Whatever happens with this audition, we’ll have a girls’ night out end of next week. Drag Abby along too so she’s not tied to that ball and chain Tanner.’
Charlotte stared at her as if she’d proposed they trawl the streets looking for men. ‘I’m not really the going-out type. I hate putting on make-up and I never have anything to wear and I don’t like—’
‘No excuses.’ Makayla held up her hand. ‘We’re doing this.’
Charlotte eventually nodded. ‘Fine.’
‘Good.’ As Makayla headed for the kitchen to rinse her mug, she paused in the doorway. ‘So what would a good boyfriend entail for you? Big biceps? Big pecs? Big dick—’
The cushion Charlotte flung hit her in the head, and she laughed. ‘You know, I have a feeling the right guy for you is just around the corner.’
Charlotte rolled her eyes and remained silent.
Unfortunately, Makayla had already found the right guy. She just had no idea how to hold on to him; or even if she wanted to.
CHAPTER TWENTY
HUDSON JABBED AT the punching bag over and over. Left hook. Right. Repeating the mindless exercise until sweat drenched his body and dripped into his eyes. Only then did he stop for a breather, unlacing the gloves with his teeth and tugging them off before reaching for a towel.
He swiped his face with it and draped it around his neck, taking a seat on a nearby bench while slugging water. While it quenched his thirst, it did little for the tightness in his throat. The same tightness that had plagued him since he’d blurted his feelings last night.
Even now, twenty-four hours later, he couldn’t believe he’d almost told Mak he loved her. His save, ‘I love...doing this,’ had been lame at best. And he still had no idea if she’d bought it or not. She’d bolted so fast from the bedroom that he had an idea she hadn’t.
If a woman fled after hearing that the guy she was dating loved her, it wasn’t a good sign. But it had jolted him back to reality. Until that moment, he’d been living in fantasyland, thinking that Mak’s enthusiasm for sex and wanting to spend time with him meant she cared.
Sadly, the only thing Mak cared about was dancing and, while he admired her for being so invested in her work, he couldn’t help but resent it.
The moment he’d told her about the Broadway audition, he’d lost her.
He’d known it would happen, which was why he’d held off so long.
What sort of asshole did that make him?
After flinging his towel away, he stretched out the kinks in his neck. It did little to ease the tension bunching his shoulder muscles. He’d thought a good workout at Jim’s would soothe his frustration at a seemingly untenable situation. It hadn’t.
Mak was an amazing dancer, one of the best he’d ever seen. She’d land the Broadway role and leave, nothing surer. Leaving behind the chump who’d fallen for her.
He should be happy for her. He was happy for her.
If he kept mentally reciting it long enough, he might actually believe it.
‘Fuck,’ he muttered, his hands unconsciously clenching into fists, and he stood, ready for another workout.
However, before he could slip his gloves back on, a kid claimed the punching bag he’d been using. A teen, about fourteen, with dyed black dreadlocks caught off his face in a headband, five piercings in each ear, another in his eyebrow and two in his lip. But that wasn’t what captured Hudson’s attention. The surly, defiant expression on the kid’s face did.
He looked exactly how Hudson had at the same age.
Angry at th
e world. At the injustice of having to take care of a drunk for a father. At the mother who’d turned her back on him.
He’d harboured that rage for a long time, until he’d learned the truth about his mum and why she’d stooped so low.
His anger towards his father still festered, which was why he made the obligatory visits as infrequent as possible. He did enough for the old bastard by placing him in a fancy special accommodation home for patients with alcohol-induced dementia and paying all his bills. That would have to do for his penance.
Hudson watched the kid for a while. His technique wasn’t bad. Though he dropped his shoulders too often and his right hook needed some serious work.
He almost offered to help but one look at the feral gleam in the kid’s eyes ensured he didn’t move from the bench.
The kid wasn’t interested in boxing skills. He needed a way to work off his antagonism at the world and every time he lay into that bag was another jab at whoever or whatever had driven him to this.
Hudson had been lucky. He’d had Tanner, who’d had an equally shitty father, and the two of them had bonded over it. They’d come down here often in their high school days, preferring to punch the crap out of a bag rather than some of the assholes at school.
Jim’s had been his go-to place. His sanctuary. A world far from getting a call from the local pub to come take his dad home, from propping up the old man and half dragging him home, from dodging fists and beer bottles, from tolerating the kind of verbal abuse a kid should never have to listen to.
Hudson had resented his father to the point of hatred. He’d escaped to this gym and found solace in doing odd jobs around the Cross. Earning money had soon become his number one goal when he’d started working at thirteen, because money would be his way out. His ticket to a life far from Kings Cross and the putrid memories it held.