Page 56 of Wilde's End
He kicks at the water, sending it in an arc across the surface.
I’m already moving slowly closer before I tell myself to stop.
“What are you doing here?”
“Thought you might like to admire your hard work,” he says, dragging his hand over the line of bruises on his inner thigh. “I know I have been.”
I chew back my reply, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how sexy they are.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me this was here? It’s awesome. I’m going to have to bring my brothers.”
“No.”
Those permanently curled lips part in glee. “You want to keep it our little secret, huh?”
“No. Only Wenders get to use the pool. Get out.”
Instead of getting out, he surprises no one by walking in deeper. I watch the exact moment his dick disappears from sight and try not to feel disappointed.
“What’s a Wender?”
“Someone who lives in Wilde’s End.”
“I live here,” he points out. “And I own the place. Does that make me King Wender?”
“Nope. Still makes you a pain in my ass.”
He laughs and strides closer. “Are you ever not grumpy?”
“Always. When you’re not around.” I move to the side, intending to go around him and leave, but Hudson drifts casually back in front of me. “Move.”
“Iammoving.”
“Out of my way.”
Hudson only ducks his head under the water and comes back up, flicking the wet blond strands back from his face. He’s wearing his cracked sunglasses, and droplets dot the bronzed lenses above that perpetually mocking smile. Light from the water reflects back onto his face, and out here, his features are even sharper. The discoloration on his skin, the line of moles byhis left eyebrow, the way his top lip is a shade darker than the bottom.
Fuck, I hate how good-looking he is.
“Why are you here?”
He splashes me, and I blink the water out of my eyes in shock. “Whyare you so obsessed with that question? I followed you here. Like I follow you everywhere. Just assume that from now on and move on.”
“Fine. Thenwhyare you following me?”
“What else am I supposed to do when you’re avoiding me?”
“Take the hint?”
A smallhehparts his teeth. “Nah. Not me.”
“You’re probably fucking with your stitches,” I point out, trying to find an excuse to put distance between us.
Hudson straightens out of the water and lifts his arm, showing off the jagged scar on his midsection. “I already went and saw the good doctor. I’m all cleared for skinny-dipping with you.”
“There’s no way he said those words.”
“Fine. Not exactly.” He pauses for a long moment. “He’s the one who told me where you’d be Saturday night.”
