Page 71 of Verdict

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I dropped my arms from Hudson’s shoulders and slid my hands up his chest, over his jaw, gripping lightly. Then I pulled his mouth down to mine.

He didn’t hesitate. His hands tightened at my waist as his mouth moved against mine, slow and confident. I opened for him. His tongue brushed mine, and he made a low sound in his throat when I tugged at his hair.

It wasn’t soft or tentative. It was deliberate.

I held onto him for a second longer than necessary. Just long enough to prove a point. To him and to myself… because this was what I wanted, right? Easy. Simple. No history and no complications. No more blurred lines I couldn’t walk back from. If this crashed and burned, Ellie would remain unaffected.

Hudson’s grip tightened at my waist, steady and confident, like this was exactly where he expected me to be. And for a second, I let myself sink into it. Let myself pretend this felt right.

But something didn’t land. Not wrong—just… not enough.

My fingers curled slightly in his shirt as I forced my attention back to him.

Focus, Ava. This is what you want.

So why did it feel like I was trying to convince myself?

I broke the kiss just long enough to glance toward where Cohen had been sitting. The couch was empty. Cohen and Blondie were gone.

Needing to give my feet a break—the heels I’d chosen to wear were hot, but wildly impractical—I dropped onto one of the couches with Aria and Drake while Hudson disappeared toward the bathroom.

“So… are you and Hudson a thing now?” Aria asked carefully, confusion written all over her face.

I shrugged. “Not really. He asked me out tonight. I said yes. I’m just having some fun.”

“I thought things were progressing with you and Cohen,” she said quietly, so no one else could hear.

I let out a sharp laugh. “Yeah. Right. I’m just his baby mama. He made that crystal clear tonight.”

“He didn’t look very happy when Hudson’s tongue was down your throat,” Aria muttered before taking a pull from her beer.

I scoffed. “Please. He looked fine. That girl was taking very good care of him.” I picked at the label on my bottle. “Where is he anyway?”

The question slipped out before I could stop it.

Aria glanced at Drake. “Where’d Cohen go?”

Drake nodded toward the bar.

It was like the crowd parted on purpose. Like the universe wanted me to see it. Cohen stood with his back against the bar, facing me. Blondie was pressed to his front, arms looped around his neck. His hands rested low on her hips. She pulled his mouth down to hers. But that wasn’t the worst part.

Nope.

As his mouth moved against hers—slow, with purpose—his eyes opened.

And locked on mine.

The grip on my beer tightened. Hot tears burned behind my eyes.

“Jesus,” Aria muttered.

Drake ran a hand over his face. “What the fuck is happening tonight?”

Hudson returned, dropping onto the couch beside me and pulling me into his side. “What’s everyone looking at?” He followed our line of sight. “Nice!” he said approvingly, completely clueless.

Moments later, Cohen and Blondie rejoined the group.