She could imagine perfectly, what it would be like to kiss him, the softness of his lips contrasting with the scratch of his stubble. He’d hold her just shy of too tight, fingers leaving bruising marks across her dark skin that she would fit her own fingers to for days afterward, heat pooling between her thighs every time she remembered this moment. They would devour each other if they could, her body hungering for him in a way she’d never felt for anyone before. She would even let him take her right here, on a semipublic balcony, her jeans dangling from one ankle as she rode him against the railing with only the stars to witness. His teeth set in her shoulder. Her hands shoved beneath his shirts. Their primal cries of pleasure.
It felt like salvation.
It felt like a memory.
“I miss you all the damn time,” Hudson whispered. His words sounded like they encompassed so much more than their recent time apart. Her chest ached with every tender breath. “I miss you so much, it ruins me.”
“What if you don’t remember? What if you never do?”
“You’ll remind me.” She turned into the darkness, her hands cupping a face she knew as well as her own. Stubble scratched her fingertips as she tipped his jaw up until their gazes locked. “Hey, you trust me, don’t you? Try trusting yourself.”
He snorted. “Myself? I was a monster before I met you.”
“Finally, you admit it.” She waited until she saw a reluctant smile on that sharp mouth. Then her expression sobered, because she needed him; this wouldn’t work without him, without both of them together, even when they weren’t. “But you’re not that guy anymore. I trust you. We can end this.”
“Okay,” he sighed. He turned his head, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “I… Okay.”
Inside, glass broke, and someone swore just loud enough for Ellory to hear. The music paused briefly, then roared back in, disinterested in whatever chaos it was burying. Whatever that—vision, memory?—was, the details fled on the wind like a kaleidoscope of startled butterflies.
Ellory slid her hand free. It felt cold. “I should get back to Liam.”
“Have fun,” Hudson said evenly.
Something about his voice made Ellory want to snatch the words back, to linger in this little world, but the moment was over. It was enough to end on a truce, their weapons lowered so they could both live to fight another day. Besides,ifanything happened between them, it would not be on the balcony at a party she had come to on a date with another man. Her hunger could not be sated at the funeral of her morals.
Shame heated her cheeks as she mumbled a goodbye. When she dared to take one last look, Hudson was sitting in the same spot, half hidden by the curtains, his hand curled in the space she’d occupied, his eyes on the stars.
25
Liam drove her back to Moneta in a silence broken only by the radio. Ellory had returned to the party but not to Liam, vacillating between emotions she wanted to sort before she hurt anyone but herself. Away from the lure of Hudson’s siren eyes, she was faced with the cold reality that her imagined tryst with Hudson had filled her with more passion than a single kiss from Liam. She yearned to be upstairs with him but hid in the living room until Liam found her instead.
Even under the haze of inebriation, Liam recognized the shift in her mood. After the first time she pulled away from his searching hands, he didn’t reach for her again. He’d sobered up with some food and water before asking if she was ready to leave, and he didn’t seem to mind that Ellory couldn’t look at him.
Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald crooned “Can’t We Be Friends.” She wondered if he’d chosen this song on purpose.
They eased to a stop in front of Moneta Hall. The jubilation of a frat party extended even here, where students milled out front, their laughter ringing through the air. Windows glowed on every floor,rooms alight with activity. Louis and Ella had moved on to singing about a lovely day for two people together despite the storm. Ellory stared into the rearview mirror, took in her flushed face and guilty eyes, and told herself to stop being a coward.
“Liam—”
“I know,” he said without looking up from the steering wheel. “You want to break up. Or I guess stop doing whatever we’re doing, since there’s nothing to break.”
Ellory’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah.”
Liam turned down the radio, until the jazz legends’ voices were reduced to a low hum. His hands gripped the wheel until his knuckles blanched, his shoulder muscles tight beneath his shirt. It was rare not to see a smile on his face, and the lack of one now made Ellory’s stomach swirl with guilt.
“I can tell when someone isn’t into me,” he continued, visibly relaxing inch by reluctant inch. “You were hard to read sometimes, but I could sense that you were losing interest. I guess I just hoped you might change your mind, since you hadn’t ended things yet.”
“I hoped I would change my mind, too.”
He pressed his forehead against the back of his hands so she could no longer see his expression, only the bounce of his dirty-blond hair as it fell over his forehead. Part of her was glad, because she no longer had any right to his raw emotions. The rest of her was just exhausted.
After this, she was not having any more hard conversations in people’s cars. It was claustrophobic, to be trapped in a vehicle with the consequences of her actions.
Liam’s throat bobbed. “It’s Hudson, isn’t it? You have feelings for him.”
Ellory didn’t deny it. She couldn’t. The guilt was thick enough to choke her.
“He’s a great guy,” said Liam, quietly. “He tries to act like he’s not, but he’s got a big heart. I think the two of you would be good together, in case you’re worried.” He lifted his head, and his expression had smoothed into something so falsely amiable that Ellory couldn’t look at him anymore. She stared out at the quad until she heard him clear his throat. “I don’t want you to think I’m taking this well because I didn’t like you. I really fucking like you, Ellory.”
