I shrug, feeling slightly guilty. It’s not about hurting him as much as he hurt me anymore, it’s about voicing my feelings. No matter how jumbled up and abrasive they are.
Hudson’s throat bobs, once, twice. “I-I’m not this heartless playboy you think I am, Giselle. Those faceless women… they never made me happy. They were simply a means to an end. I’m not going to lie and say I’ve been a saint over the past coupleof years, that part is true, but… I’ve seen the way love can tear people apart. I’ve lived through it first hand; the way it can cut you so deep in the worst ways possible and it’s—it’s always sounded terrifying, so I unconsciously made a decision years ago to close myself off. If I never get emotionally involved, then I can never get hurt.”
“Hudson—”
“But then I met you.”
I swear my heart stops.
“When I’m with you, Giselle… I get this weird feeling in my gut. You make me laugh like nobody’s business, you make me smile until my cheeks hurt and I ache to be around you. My fear of opening up and being vulnerable isn’t worth losing you and the way you make me feel.”
“Is that what scares you the most?”
He nods. “Yeah. I got too into my head on Sunday morning, I started panicking and I-I ended up hurting you in the process.”
Bringing the flat of my palm to the centre of Hudson’s chest, I cover his heart, feeling it thrum beneath our flesh, sinew and bone.
“Thank you for telling me,” I whisper.
“Gee—”
“But”— I interrupt whatever he’s going to stay next —“I still can’t ignore the hurt, the abandonment I’ve felt the past couple of days. And yes, that’s partly because of my own issues, I know that, but… I needed to tell you something really important, Hudson.”
“Tell me now,” he urges. “I’m listening. I’m not going to run away this time.”
Using the pad of my thumb to twist my celibacy ring around my finger, I take a deep breath and make my decision.
Regardless of if Hudson runs away or not, I need to tell him. For my own sake.
“I’ve been celibate for four years.”
Chapter 17
Hudson
Istare down at Giselle while my heart races.
My hands are moulded to her hips, allowing me to feel the rough criss-cross material of her fish net tights biting into my flesh. It’s hard to keep my mind from wandering when she looks the way she does; hair unbound and cascading down her back in a long, dark sheet, nothing but a black bralette to cover her tits, stomach and ribcage exposed, and a pair of cheeky knickers to cover her core. The fishnets over her underwear and the red, patent, stiletto heels she wears only serves to complete her outfit.
It’s driving me insane, but I can hear in the tone of Giselle’s voice that whatever she needs to tell me is something important, so I force myself to focus.
“I—” She swallows. “I’ve been celibate for four years.”
A sudden ringing starts up in my ears, drowning out even the sound of my breathing.
Fuck me.
I felt guilty before about hurting her, not calling or texting when I promised I would and then showing up days after. But now the knot of guilt building in the pit of my stomach threatens to overwhelm me.
“Hudson?”
I blink, gripping Giselle’s hips just that little bit tighter to pull myself back into reality. “Yeah?”
“You’re freaking out, aren’t you?”
I shake my head. “No, I just… Four years?”
“Four years,” Giselle confirms with a quick bob of her head. “I wanted to tell you beforehand, but then things got in the way and…”
