Page 117 of Game On
She shrugs. “I assumed you were a bit overprivileged and under-skilled. A know-it-all from across the pond. But you’re good. Admittedly, it’s difficult to go from beingthebest to being merely one of the best.”
“Wow, I—uh, I’m not even sure what to say to that.”
“No need to say anything,” she says. “Just wanted you to know. Good luck out there today.”
“Thanks, Claire. Good luck to you and Evan.”
She gives me a firm nod before walking away. I blow out a heated breath and turn my attention back to thecrowd, hoping Hudson will materialize out of thin air. Minutes tick by as I pace the edge of the prep area. Just as I’m about to expel my breakfast, a familiar voice calls out behind me.
“Ella.”
I spin around and there’s Hudson, standing along the edge with a conflicted look in his eyes. To say I’m relieved would be an understatement. I’m overwhelmed, flooded with all sorts of confusing emotions.
Even from a distance, I can see the tension in his posture, the clenched jaw, and the slight twitch in his fingers. He slowly approaches, the crowd fading into the background.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he says, but his eyes betray him. “We’re on in thirty. We can talk after.”
I tug on his hand. “Just tell me.”
“I saw your ex this morning. He had some choice words for me. A lot to say about you, about us. He certainly doesn’t think I’m good enough for you, that’s for damn sure.”
“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” I cover my face, wincing as I peer out at him from between the gaps in my fingers. “I assumed he would’ve left already.”
“So, you saw him too, then?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“I’m begging you to save this conversation until after we perform. If you break my heart right now, I’m not gonna be able to go out there. Let me just have this, alright?”
“I can promise you that I’m not—”
“Please, Ella?” He’s almost pleading now, and it slices through me like a blade.
I nod, swallowing hard. “Alright. We’ll talk after.”
He searches my eyes before turning away, his fingers lingering on mine. Five minutes of silence pass before we step out onto the mat together, with Luke as our spotter. The lights blaze down on us, and the roar of the crowd fills my ears. Hudson’s hand tightens around mine briefly before he lets go, and we take our starting positions.
The music starts, and all I can do is breathe and move. We work through the routine, muscle memory taking over, pushing all extraneous thoughts aside. Hudson’s grips are perfect, his catches steady, and for those few precious minutes we move as one—coordinated and unstoppable. My body responds to his every cue, and all the tension and confusion from the last week melt away.
We launch into the final stunt, a front one and a half to cupie that we’ve nailed a hundred times over. We land it, not a single bobble. Five flawless stunts, four clean transitions, and we’ve done it. It’s not the best we’ve ever performed together, but it was one hell of a routine.
I dismount, and then I jump into Hudson’s arms, legs wrapping around his waist as he spins me. The most perfect feeling in the world.
His face breaks into a genuine smile, the kind that reaches his eyes, making them sparkle under the harsh Florida sun. It’s the smile I fell for months ago, and seeing it now, with all our uncertainties set aside, makes my stomach do somersaults.
“You did it,” he whispers in my ear before setting me down.
“Wedid it,” I correct.
We leave the stage, and I barely have time to catch my breath before the team rushes towards us, engulfing us in a whirlwind of hugs and shouts.
Ash claps me on the back, his smile wide. “You two were amazing! That last cupie? Perfection!”
“You think?”
“I probably could have done it better,” he teases. “But you guys held your own.”
