Page 99 of Game On
It has me yearning for more than just these fleeting moments between us. It makes me want a place in his life, permanently. A place I wish was possible to keep.
We pile into the bus back to the hotel, and I can’t shake the feeling, so I text him.
Ella:
I’m sorry the game went south. you were great out there. you always are
The message readsdelivered, but there’s no response from him. Not that I expected one right away. I’m sure he’s still reeling from the loss, debriefing with his team. Trying to come to terms with the fact that this was the ending to his football career.
When we arrive at the hotel, the lobby is filled with a weird, subdued energy, players and cheerleaders milling around, trying to make sense of the defeat. I’m with Gabi and Sammy again, and as we head to the lift, I keep glancing at my phone.
No response. My worry twists into a knot.
The three of us take turns hopping in the shower, and once we’re done, I still haven’t heard from Hudson. The lack of contact only feeds my growing anxiety. If he’s down, I want to do something to make him feel better. But still, I’m stuck between wanting to cross that line and holding strong to our agreement.
“I’ll be right back,” I say to the girls, having paced the short expanse of our hotel room for several minutes. “I need some air.”
Sammy looks up from her phone, sympathetic. “Want me to text Levi for you?”
“Would you?”
She nods and shoots off a quick text. I wait, the minutes stretching into what feels like hours, until her phone pings. “Levi says Hudson’s room is on the eighth floor,room 812. He said he’d make himself scarce if you want to go up.”
“Thanks, Sammy.” I move to squeeze her hand and then head for the door. But as I step into the hallway, I nearly collide with Hudson.
He’s standing directly in front of me, an exhausted look painted across his features. “I thought about luring you back to my room with food,” he says with a tired smile. “But I decided to try a more straightforward approach.”
“I was just coming up to see you,” I say.
His eyes soften. “Were you?”
“Yeah, I wanted to check up on you. You weren’t answering your texts.”
He pulls out his phone, showing the dead screen. “Phone died.”
“Convenient,” I tease, but there’s no real bite to it.
“Can I come in?” he asks, glancing at the door behind me.
I look back at the room, Gabi and Sammy’s voices ringing through the thin walls. “Why don’t I go up to yours? The girls are in there.”
He nods, offering his hand, and we head to the lift. The ride up is quiet. When we reach his room, he opens the door and I step inside, the weight of the night’s loss pressing down on both of us.
“You okay?” Hudson asks once we’re both inside.
“I should be the one asking you that,” I say. “I’m not the one who just lost their last game.”
He drops onto the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. “It still hasn’t sunk in, I guess. But, you know, I had a great runthese last four seasons. We made it to the goddamn Sugar Bowl.” He gulps, his gaze swinging back to meet mine. “And, well, I’ve got you here with me. Don’t I?”
Being here with him, supporting him through this transition, makes me feel more connected to him than ever. It’s a comforting realization amid the uncertainty. Despite the murky waters of our relationship, right now I know we have each other. That’s more than enough.
