Page 26 of Fire Fight

CADENCE

“Your stepbrother’s intense,isn’t he?” Hudson says with a laugh as Drake’s car roars into life behind us, taking the corner at such speed his tyres leave black scuffs on the road. Then his face crinkles with concern. “Or was the friend thing real?”

I pull a face. “Am I that bad a liar?”

“Yep,” he agrees, laughing even harder when I mock punch his shoulder. “Don’t hate on the messenger. Guess there’s a few teething problems with your new living arrangements, then.”

“That’s a polite way of putting it.” I shrug. “We knew each other before but didn’t part on the best of terms, and I had no idea he’d be my new housemate.”

“Well, his loss is my gain.” Judging from the broad smile he flashes at me; Hudson believes every word. “Given that’s the reception you’ll get, are you in a hurry to get home?”

I twist to study his face, which is alight with mischief. “Depends on what you had in mind.”

“Don’t worry.” He bumps his hand against the side of my knee. “I’m not dragging you to a sex dungeon.”

He leaves such a long pause I roll my eyes. “Well, what then?”

“Sorry. Just leaving an opening in case you wanted to change my mind. How’d you like to join a pickup game of rugby in the park?”

I shrug, unsure if he means me to watch or take part and happy to do either. “Sounds good.”

He meant participating.

Hudson drags a few pairs of shorts from the trunk of his car, tossing the smallest towards me. I tug them on under my skirt before taking it off and folding it into a neat square on the passenger seat. The matching T-shirt he gives me is a harder feat, but my bra covers enough that I risk taking off my blouse before quickly tugging the replacement top into place.

When I turn around, Hudson hastily averts his gaze, and I feel a rush of warmth that such a cute guy was checking me out. I remember how it felt on Saturday, clinging to him on the jet ski, face showered with the saltwater spray while the machine throbbed between my legs.

My throat pulls tight, face pulsing with colour as I pretend to size up the competition already running onto the field.

“Do you often need to outfit strangers?” I ask, waiting as he swaps his school uniform for shorts, no shirt.

“Big family. You’re wearing Ben’s shorts but don’t worry.” He tugs on the back of my ponytail, grinning broadly. “I won’t tell.”

I get picked for the opposing side, nodding to Salesi who’s on the wing, his twin snarling at him from Hudson’s team.

The play is quick paced and only bears a fleeting resemblance to the national game. Rules are reinterpreted on the fly, the assigned points doubling for one conversion because of itsapparent impossibility. I enjoy the view from the back of a scrum, but my fun is cut short when we ruck the ball and Salesi flies along the pitch, scoring between the posts before anyone comes near to catching him.

“We need to institute a penalty system,” Hudson calls out, happy despite his side losing by twice as much as they’ve scored. “Salesi gets all the losers on his team.”

“I’ve already got a girl.”

“Hey,” I protest, laughing. “A girl with feelings.”

“That’s the handicap,” Salesi agrees, leading me to tackle my side.

By the time we call it a day, I’m covered head to toe in mud. Enough that I worry about getting into Hudson’s neat-freak level of clean car.

“Don’t worry,” he says, tossing his jersey onto the passenger seat for me to sit on. “I’ll get Ben to detail it if it’s too bad. He’s permanently grounded so does just about anything for cash.”

He checks the rest of my uniform is safe on the back seat, then pulls on his shirt, using the raised boot lid as cover while he shucks his muddy shorts and swaps back to his trousers.

“Is Ben the bad boy of the family?”

“Oh.” Hudson clutches his chest like he’s wounded. “I’mthe bad boy. Ben’s a nerd who keeps going onto the dark web and ordering shit he shouldn’t.”

“Like what?”

“A machete was the last one. Mum unwrapped it and nearly lost her fingers. He’s into war memorabilia.”

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