Page 96 of Abyss

“It doesn’t matter.”

“You missed me, didn’t you, Mr. Case?” I tease him with a smile between my lips, throwing back what’s becoming our familiar banter.

He shakes his head, his forearms peeking out beneath his rolled-up shirtsleeves, hands tucked in his pockets. “I’d sooner miss Chickenpox.”

I can’t help but laugh as I close the distance between us, wrapping my arms around his neck. He pulls me to him, lifting me effortlessly as I plant kisses from his earlobe down to his neck.

When I reach his mouth, he draws me closer, taking control of our kiss. I tug his hair gently, lost in the sensation of our lips, our connection, feeling breathless and untamed.

This man . . . his scent, his skin, his arms, everything about him. From his rare smiles to his hard-won grins. From his sometimes terse, unapologetic words to the sweetness of his whispers meant only for me. I crave him endlessly.

A familiar throat clearing behind me breaks my spell, and I slide down from Hudson’s embrace, turning to find my mother glaring back at me. Her arms are crossed and an expression of both amusement and mild disapproval wrestles over her features.

Her eyes bounce between me and Hudson, and I’m relieved when an upward curl finds her lips. “Pretty sure you’ve got some explaining to do next time, Kavi.”

Jojo’s dadand stepmom settle into seats in the back of the class. With Jojo’s permission, I’d invited them to join us today, letting them know I wanted to speak to them after class.

Last week, Jojo had texted me, telling me that she’d confided in her dad about the situation with her stepsister. From our brief conversation, it seemed he was fully supportive of her. He’d even consoled and hugged her, apologizing for not being there sooner while Jojo suffered on her own.

While I know Jojo and her dad discussed the matter with her stepmom, Jackie, I’m uncertain of their plans to move forward and mend. My hope is to convince them to consider family counseling, but ultimately, it’s their decision to make.

“These look great!” I clap my hands together, walking around the classroom.

Each of my students turns to look at the life-sized outlineof themselves on the large white paper stuck to the walls. They helped draw the outline of the person next to them, and I’m proud of the way they all worked together.

And since Hudson has joined today’s class, I told him he’d have to participate, too, so we both drew outlines around the other’s body on our own pieces of paper.

“Now, here’s what I want us to do,” I say, picking up my brush and addressing the class. “I want you to pick a color for each important person in your life and paint the inside of your outline with those colors. There’s no right or wrong, and you can choose as many or as few colors as you want. Once you’re done, I’d love for a couple of you to share your work with the rest of the class, but that’s optional. If you’d rather keep things to yourself, that’s okay, too. There are no rules when it comes to my class.”

Elijah raises his hand and I chuckle, reminding him that, as long as he’s being respectful, he can speak freely without having to ask for permission.

“How do we choose the color for each person?”

I shrug. “It’s completely up to you. Sometimes the colors will guide you. Remember, there’s no right or wrong. Just go with what your heart is telling you.”

The kids all get started, and I walk over to where mine and Hudson’s papers are hanging next to each other, giving him a smile when I look at the enormous outline of him on the wall.

He picks up his brush, dipping it into yellow paint, while I pick up orange on my brush.

Hudson chuckles. “Orange. Of course.”

“It’s the happiest color in the rainbow,” I quip.

Fifteen focused minutes later, I turn to look at Hudson’s painting, assessing the various colors. “Who does the yellow represent over your sternum?”

He studies his work for a moment. “Maddy.” He sees myraised brow in question and continues, “Her hair has always reminded me of sunshine and warmth. Her mom leaving her on my doorstep all those years ago changed my life for the better.”

My throat tightens at the emotion in his voice. God, the way this man loves.

If only . . .

I shake my thoughts away, pointing to the blue on the shoulders of his outline. It has gray spots in it. “What about the blue? Who does that represent?”

Hudson’s jaw works before he says, “My brother. We were each other’s shoulders to lean on for a long time.” He pauses for a moment. “There’re a few gray spots in that relationship, but . . .”

I brush the tips of my fingers along his forearm, smiling up at him. “But hopefully it’s on the mend? Hopefully, you’ll be able to find that trust with him again.” I look at the orange inside his head and over his heart. “And what’s the orange supposed to represent?”

His eyes dip to my lips. “The happiest color in the rainbow. It’s taking over my fucking mind, and I’m drowning in it.”

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