Dawn of Love_A contemporary reverse harem romance

by Bea Paige

  Hudson is standing there, bare chested and in a pair of shorts and trainers, staring at me from the doorway. In the mirror I can see him trying to decide whether he should enter or run in the opposite direction. The irony is not lost to me, but I grit my teeth on the nervous laugh that wants to escape and instead press the button to make the pace increase. I try not to pay any attention as he fights his urge to get the hell out of the room. Instead, I look at myself in the mirror, at the fullness of my breasts encased in a tight crop top and the roundness of my hips covered in tight Lycra. Sweat drips down the centre of my chest, pooling at the material of my top. My face is flushed, and it isn’t just because of the exertion. I know Hudson’s eyes are on me, assessing me, watching me, deciding whether he can permit himself just a few minutes in my company.

  In the end, he decides he can.

  “Music,” he demands as he strides over towards the running machines. I find it interesting that he chooses the one next to mine. I don’t know whether it is a conscious decision or not, but either way I like it. It feels like a small victory, a hard fought one.

  The smart system they have set up throughout the house responds to Hudson’s voice command and begins to play dance music. I watch him pull a face and mutter under his breath at the choice provided.

  “Drum & Bass,” he demands and immediately a heavy, pounding rhythm blasts through the speakers. It matches his mood: angry and fierce. He doesn’t bother to warm up with a jog, he hits the belt hard, running full pelt. The anger he has is turbulent like a fierce wind ripping through a bank of clouds. A little fear hitches in my chest, not because I am afraid of him, but I fear the knowledge he has been given. He has just returned from Dr Salahan, after all. It can’t be good.

  We run side by side, both lost in our thoughts. Sweat pours over my skin as I pick my pace up to match his. I am breathing hard, my face is flushed, my muscles scream at me to slow down, my lungs burn at the effort. When I look at Hudson, his eyes narrow. It’s as though he can read my mind, that this is a silent battle of wills. I won’t give up. If he wants to run from me, then I sure as hell am going to chase him. I’ve gone well over my five-mile target, but somehow, despite the exertion and screaming lungs, I find the strength to keep up the pace. This is a silent battle drawn by him and one I’m not going to lose. Sweat drips down Hudson’s defined abs and sticks his hair against his scalp as he runs at top speed. We remain like that, our feet slapping against the belts for long minutes. Then suddenly Hudson leans over and slams his fist against the red safety button on my running machine. It stops immediately, and I’m thrown forward from the momentum. Luckily for me, my reflexes are quick and I slam my hands against the dashboard of the machine, preventing myself from falling.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I say between pants. Anger bubbles up in my chest. “I could have hurt myself, you arsehole.”

  Hudson slams his fist against the safety button on his own machine and turns on me, his finger jabbing in the air between us.

  “What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck are you doing? Look at you, you’re about to burst a goddamn blood vessel. You can barely breathe. Is this some ruse to get me to give you mouth to fucking mouth?” he shouts back, his chest heaving in anger. His eyes flash with it too, but there is something else beneath the anger that rings loud and clear. Lust. He wants me, and it makes me bold, brazen.

  Still panting from exertion and from my own broiling anger, I get off my machine and step up onto his. My closeness forces him to take a step backwards in his haste to get away. It’s interesting, this turn of events. I recognise myself in him when we first met, constantly trying to get away from the way he and his brothers made me feel. Now it is my turn.

  “What is it, Hudson? Why are you so damn angry? Do I really piss you off that much or are you angry at yourself for wanting me, even when you’re fighting so hard against it?” I say, firing each question in quick succession. He flinches as though I am slashing him with a knife. I don’t want to hurt him, I want him to feel, because if he feels then perhaps he’ll remember. That is my end game. This could go horribly wrong or perfectly right. I know I’m playing with fire, but I can’t seem to help myself. I miss him, I miss us, and I want it back. “I see the way you look at me. I know you want me. What the hell are you so afraid of, Hudson?”

  “I am not afraid of anything,” he retorts, but the tense way he holds his body tells me otherwise.

  “You want me,” I push.

  “I want most women,” he snaps back, surprised at my audacity, it seems.

  “No. You forget I know you. Not so long ago you let me in here,” I say, stabbing my finger against his chest. I’m done with being kind and patient. I hadn’t realised until now how much his avoidance pisses me off. Together in this room we are like a tinder box about to catch alight.

  “I don’t know you. I can’t do what you ask.”

  “You let me in before because you fell in love with me. You let me in because we are so alike. I am in there still, you just have to take a chance and reach inside.”

  A muscle in his jaw feathers, and I reach up to touch it. He doesn’t move, but he doesn’t lean into my touch either. His eyes flutter shut for the briefest of moments before snapping open once again. He moves his head sharply and my hand falls away.

  “There’s nothing to reach inside for. I have no memories of you, in my head there’s none of the history you speak of. Everything you hold inside your heart is not reflected in mine, because there’s nothing there,” he half shouts. I don’t flinch. I don’t move.

  “No. I refuse to believe that it’s all gone. I won’t believe it,” I say firmly. Bitter tears sting my eyes but I swipe them away.

  Hudson’s face softens just a fraction before the shutters come down again. “Dr Salahan said that it’s highly unlikely I’ll get my memories back. That what is lost, is lost for good. So you see, it is hopeless. I can’t give you what you want.”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head in horror. “How can this be happening?” I’ve been holding out for good news, convinced that it would be a matter of time before Hudson’s memories come flooding back. My hand flies to my mouth, covering the sob that threatens my lips.

  “I’m sorry,” Hudson says, his shoulders dropping. This time he seems genuinely sorry.

  “It isn’t your fault,” I say, all fight leaving me. I step backwards off the treadmill, suddenly feeling chilled. I wrap my arms around my chest and look at my feet, not able to look him in the eye.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I can see how much Bryce and Max mean to you. How much you mean to them. I can’t deny that I feel like a stranger in my own home. Outside this circle of… love you all have.”

  My head snaps up at the vulnerability he’s showing me. It is like a gift, even if he doesn’t recognise it as one. I look at him, bare chested, naked. No, Dr Salahan is wrong, he wouldn’t look at me like this if there wasn’t something there.

  “Hudson, would you do something for me?” He doesn’t refuse, so I take that as an agreement of sorts. “Would you spend the night with me? Just you and me…” My voice trails off at the expression on his face.

  “You want me to have sex with you?” he asks, his mouth dropping open in surprise.

  “I didn’t say that.” That’s kind of the plan, but he doesn’t need to know that. I gave myself to him as a gift before, I can do it again. I want to. Maybe if my words can’t make him remember, the joining of our bodies can. Our eyes lock. He is giving me a look crossed between incredulity and amazement.

  “Just spend time with me. Get to know me. I’m asking for one night. If you feel nothing at the end of it, and I don’t mean getting back some memories, I mean if you don’t feel something,” I say, pressing my palm against my chest, “then I’ll leave you be.” I remain still, feigning nonchalance when really, inside, my stomach is churning, hoping he says yes. “Will you do this one thing for me?”

  He considers me for a long moment
then nods his head sharply. “Yes. I’ll give you one night.”

  The relief I feel is immense. I let out a silent breath.

  “When is this going to happen?” he asks me.

  “No time like the present,” I say.

  Chapter Nineteen

  After putting a call through to Bryce and Max explaining my plan, they both decided it would be better if they spent the night away from home to truly give us time alone. When I told them about what Dr Salahan had said they hadn’t hidden their disappointment. It made my heart hurt, but they had such faith in me and our love that, despite the news, they were hopeful.

  Now, as I pull on my leather trousers and Pink Floyd t-shirt and stare at my reflection, I hope that whatever brought Hudson and me together in the first place has the power to bring us together once more. Allowing myself a small smile for courage, I adjust my t-shirt, take a deep breath and head downstairs.

  Hudson is waiting in the lounge. He’s wearing his tracksuit bottoms and a hoody, probably in an attempt to turn me off him. I imagine he assumes that no effort would equal no interest from me. Little does he know that’s exactly what I love to see him wear most. Maybe deep down, locked away inside of him, he knows it too. I hold onto that thought as I stride towards the kitchen.

  “Hey,” I say as casually as possible, even though my heart is galloping like a thousand stallions in my chest.

  “Hi,” Hudson responds, a note of interest in his voice. Good. “Nice outfit. Are we going out somewhere?”

  I smile to myself and reach for a bottle of red wine from the rack. This is the outfit Hudson saw me in at Le Carnival club in Alpe D’Huez. I’m using everything I have to try and remind him why he was attracted to me in the first place, to remind him of the girl he fell in love with. It’s worth a shot.

  “We can if you want. But I was just going to order in a take away,” I say, pouring two glasses of red wine. Picking them up, I take them over to where he’s sitting on the sofa. I hand him one and take a seat next to him.

  “You don’t cook?” he asks.

  “I do, I just prefer not to,” I shrug.

  He arches his eyebrow at me. I know what he’s thinking.

  “I probably wasn’t the best chalet maid, but you got fed and looked after well enough. At least, you didn’t complain at the time.”

  He nods his head, choosing not to question my statement. “You like Pink Floyd then?” he asks, his green eyes trailing over my t-shirt. It isn’t just the logo he’s staring at. I feel my nipples harden. I’m braless, purposely so, using all the tools at my disposal.

  “Yes. That surprised you the first time too,” I say with a slanted smile.

  He cocks his head at me. “You don’t appear to be an…”

  “Alternative chick? You said that as well.”

  His eyebrows pull together. “I’m on a back foot here. You have an advantage over me, and I don’t like it.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “So, take the advantage back,” I challenge. His eyebrows lift in surprise. He stops slouching and sits up straighter in his seat. Tapping into his need to be in control at all times, I give him a chance to take it.

  “How?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at me. Behind the barely held annoyance, anger even, is lust as thick and electric as it has always been between us. Lust I can handle. Indifference, not so much. Lust brought us together the first time, and friendship, understanding, then love followed. I hope the same would happen for us now.

  “You’re the smart arse, the business man, figure it out,” I say, taking a sip of wine for courage. By the way he is looking at me, I think I am going to bloody need it.

  “Sex is a weapon. I use women, but this you know already,” he says, his eyes locking with mine.

  “Yes and no,” I say, readying to strike again.

  “Yes and no? I think I know my own mind,” he retorts sharply. There’s that anger again. Why is he so damn angry?

  “Yes, you used women, used being the operative word, but you didn’t use sex as a weapon against them. No, the only person you truly hurt by fucking without a connection was yourself, Hudson. Tears might have been shed by women who thought they knew you, but they were superficial. You were the one who was shattered inside each time you fucked without love.”

  Hudson stands, knocking the table with his knee in his bid to escape my words.

  “Fuck this shit. I can’t do this,” he says, anger pushing away everything else. But his anger isn’t directed solely at me, it’s directed at the truth of himself. I can see him war with the truth of my words and how they cut him deep, and the need to stay and listen to what other secrets I know about him. Perhaps I am being cruel, perhaps this is unfair. To have lost a piece of yourself, only to know others have access to it, must be hard to deal with.

  Ultimately though, whatever way you look at it, I am doing this for his benefit. He needs to see that there is so much more to him, so much more he can give if he just allows himself to let me in.

  I stand with him. “You promised me one night, Hudson. Are you going to back out on your agreement now?”

  “This isn’t what I agreed to.”

  “You thought we would fuck and that would be it? Believe me I want to, but there’s something else that is more important to me.”

  “What’s that,” he asks. His chest is heaving. Looking at him so vulnerable, I wonder whether those butterflies have turned into a flock of crazed birds. I know my chest is filled with them, they taunt me, pecking at my happiness with their unforgiving beaks.

  “Your happiness. Your heart. Our happiness as a family. That is why I am fighting for all of us. This isn’t just about you. It’s about Bryce and Max too. When we all came together something magical happened. Four lost souls brought together by fate, serendipity. I don’t know. Whatever the hell it was, our love together began to heal us. No matter what Bryce and Max say, I know that if you don’t come back, then this won’t last.” My heart feels like a goddamn mountain of rock filling my chest at the confession. I didn’t want to believe it, but I know that eventually love wouldn’t be enough to keep us all together. “I love you all, and I will not let you go without a goddamn fight.” Now I am the one who is breathing heavily.

  “I can’t give you my happiness, because I don’t feel it. I can’t give you my heart, because I’ve never given it to anyone. And family? Max and Bryce are my family, that’s what I know.” He turns to walk away, but I grab him again. That light touch is like a physical blow, and he stumbles away from me. He stops, shaking with more than just rage. He shakes with fear, not fear of me, but what I represent. Love is frightening when you have come from a place that never had it.

  “NO!” he shouts, rounding on me.

  I am immovable. I do not flinch. “I thought you were tougher than this? Scratch that. I know you are fucking tougher than this, Hudson. Your mother took something precious from you every time she laid a hand on you, beat you. She took what everyone else takes for granted, your ability to give and receive love, but you got it back, with me, with us as a family. Don’t fucking walk away from that.” I am seething with anger, frustration, with my own damn fear. I hadn’t expected it to get so heated, so soon. This is not how I’d played out our evening together.

  Hudson breathes heavily through his nose, fists clenched, body rigid, fighting an internal battle that wages war inside. The emotion of this conversation is like all the months we’ve spent together wrapped up in one moment. But I know he’s strong enough, he just has to take a step, one step towards me and our future. I can’t go to him, this has to be his decision.

  We glare at each other for what seems like eternity, until eventually Hudson rocks on his bare feet. His right foot lifts, and for a wonderful moment happiness fills my heart in the belief that he is willing to take a chance. Then my blood turns to acid, and the frantic birds inside my ribcage turn to stone and drop to the pit of my stomach as Hudson spins on his feet and walks away.

  Chapter Twenty


  I don’t call Bryce and Max to tell them what’s happened. I can’t even begin to decipher what the hell went wrong, and I certainly don’t have the words to explain how our life together is about to be shattered. Of course, they would both argue that we could still make it work, and we would for a time. But I know I am right in my belief that eventually huge chasms would form between us from Hudson’s inability to be a part of what made us so special. It would start with small things like not being able to show affection for fear it would hurt or upset Hudson, to constant arguments about why he couldn’t even try and make it work. That would lead to resentment and then, finally, loathing. I don’t want to destroy their relationship. I can’t be the one who breaks their bond, their love for one another. I am willing to sacrifice my happiness to maintain theirs.

  I sit on the edge of my bed, the cold seeping into my bones. It moves through the layer of skin covering my muscles, travels into my bloodstream and heads straight towards my heart. Icy, sweetheart, butterfly. The cold seeps around their names for me, encasing them in ice.

  Jester, man-mountain and… dragon.

  Yes, that’s it. Dragon. It fits Hudson perfectly. His fire melted my ice, my ice put out the raging inferno within his chest. Then there’s the fierceness of his love for his brothers and for me, before he lost his memories. He had battled against his internal demons to allow himself to love me. Our protector, our saviour, our dragon.

  But what does it matter now? I’ll never get the chance to use it.

  Glancing at the digital clock on my side table, I can see that it’s almost midnight. Hudson left the house hours ago, and I’m alone and bereft. Sleep won’t come, and there is no point trying to force it. In the end, deciding that I need a cup of tea, I head back down to the kitchen. The kettle boils as I stare out into the dark beyond the window, wondering how the hell we got here. This evening I’d wanted to relive all the memories with Hudson. I’d wanted to describe everything we’d been through together and then I was going to show him just how much I love him with my touch. Yet, I’d done none of that. I had pushed him and now I’d lost him, lost them all in my haste to fix something that couldn’t be fixed.