Page 57 of Game On
I just stare at her, waiting, watching as she paces the room.
“Hudson, we sleep together, then you ignore me. I confront you, and we work things out. Or so I think. You proceed to stare at me from across the room at a party, acting like a jealous fool. So, like a fool myself, I try to give you another shot. But no, you don’t want it. Or, excuse me, youcan’twant it.”
I awkwardly scratch the back of my neck, wincing. “Ella, I only said that because—”
“Let me finish.” She holds up a hand to silence me,pressing a finger to my lips. “After that, there comes a lovely offer of friendship. You invade my space, insert yourself into my life … and now, only now, you change your damn mind again.”
“Well, when you put it like that.”
“Insufferable,” she says, shaking her head. “That’s what you are.”
I work through a heavy swallow. “So, you think I’m full of shit? Out of my mind to even ask the question? And you don’t want to do this, at least not with me? Because God knows, Ella, I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s driving me wild. There’s this magnetism between us, this pull I can’t shake, no matter how hard I try. I want you—badly. More than I’m willing to admit most of the time. And I know it’s risky. I know it’s complicated, but I want to explore this, no matter the consequences—”
“Oh, would you just shut up for once?”
She clutches the fabric of my T-shirt and hauls me into her. Her arms loop around my neck, pulling me closer, and then her lips find mine. I’m stunned, frozen in place, but then her warmth seeps into me, grounding and igniting me all at once. It’s as if a switch is flipped and I’m suddenly alive.
I kiss her back, hard. It’s nothing like the cautious dance we’ve been playing at. Instead, it’s urgent and fierce. She tilts her head, deepening the kiss, her movements bold and unapologetic. My hands find their way into her hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as I pull her closer, needing to feel her against me.
Her hands slide under my shirt, palms hot against myskin as she traces the contours of my abs. In response, my own hands explore the curve of her back, the soft swell of her hip, in frantic movements.
Lost, that’s what I must be. I’m fucking lost in the feel of her, in the taste of her lips, in the sound of our mingled breaths.
But then, she pulls away and the room goes quiet. Panic flashes in her eyes—a wild, cornered look that I’ve never seen before. She quickly masks it with a practiced calm, but not before I catch the raw fear beneath.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, voice rough with concern.
She swallows hard, her gaze darting around the room before settling back on me. “Nothing,” she says, but there’s a tiny tremble in the word. Then, “Close your eyes and sit on the bed.”
I give her an odd look. “Ella, what—”
“Just do it, please,” she insists. “For once, don’t argue with me.”
So, I don’t. Instead, I close my eyes and sit back. At first, there’s something shifting in front of me, some light emerging from somewhere. After a few long moments of silence, I reach out, expecting to find her warmth, her presence, but my hand closes on nothing but empty air.
Confusion turns to concern, and I can’t hold back any longer. My eyes snap open, but the room is empty. Ella is gone.
The door is slightly ajar, the light of the hotel hallway seeping in. And I’m left sitting here, alone, trying to piece together what the hell just happened.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ella
There is something deeply and inherently wrong with me. I’ve known this for years, though I’m still not sure I can pinpoint exactly what it is. Perhaps it’s my propensity for going after—or staying with—the wrong people, those who bring nothing but complications to my life.
Or maybe it’s my ability to appear composed while disintegrating inside, melting into a million little imperfect pieces. On the outside, I’m the poster child for self-assurance and success. My CV glistens with accolades, my social media feeds are a carefully curated display of triumphs and picture-perfect moments. To the casual observer, I’m bold, I’m confident, I’m driven. I’m the woman who always knows the right thing to say, the right action to take.
But in reality, I wear a mask that hides the fact that I’m a bit spineless. Scared that every tiny mistake might add up to some monumental disaster. That there’s a threshold, a precipice, and I’m always just one step away from tumbling over it.
I’ve never been out of control like this. With Jamie,everything felt safe, predictable, within my grasp. But Hudson? He’s a different story. The way I feel around him, this raw attraction—it scares me. I’ve never experienced anything like it before, and it makes me feel like I’m losing the grip I’ve always prided myself on.
Tonight was supposed to be straightforward. Eat some good food, talk to Hudson, maybe even flirt a little. Instead, he gave me a proposal that pissed me off. And I—I kissed him like nothing in the world could stop me.
And then I ran. Classic Ella—bold enough to stir a storm, but not quite brave enough to weather it.
As I shut the door softly behind me, my heart still racing from the taste of Hudson’s lips, I laugh at myself. Only I could orchestrate such a perfect escape, only to realize I’ve left my phone behind.
“What’s so funny, Ella?” Sammy asks. She’s lying on the bed, scrolling on her phone, head tilted to one side.
