Page 32 of Engaging with Her Enemy

Her phone chimed. She grimaced at the loud noise.

A door opened, and Hudson stuck his head out. “I thought it was strange that I texted you and then heard it go off in the hallway.”

“Shh. Keep your voice down.”

He grinned and stepped into the hallway with her. Shirtless in a pair of basketball shorts. She noticed his leg for a half-second before her eyes were drawn back to his chiseled chest.

“The last room down the hall checked out this morning, and Mr. Trenton over there can't hear even with his hearing aids.” He stepped to the side of this door. “Do you want to come in?”

Licking her lips, she peeked inside his room. A regular room. But Hudson's room.

“Nothing will bite you.” He placed his hand on the small of her back, nudging her forward.

Her expectation of surprising him with her test seemed unimportant now. He shut the door behind her and then turned the T.V. off from the basketball game.

“You don't have to cut it off.”

“Watching a group of men chase after a ball or talking to one pretty woman? No contest.”

He'd been lying in bed, the covers pulled back and rumpled. With a deep breath, she tore her eyes away and refocused her thoughts. Climbing into bed with him would not be whatfriendsdid. She'd set the ground rules, she should at least stick to them for a little while.

“So,” he began. “What did you get?”

She reached into her purse and pulled out the folded test and opened it. “I got an eighty-two.”

His quick smile pushed her excitement up a notch. “That's great!”

“I know. And,” she said, popping him on the chest with her paper. “I discussed my disability with my professor. He started the conversation, but you were right, he didn't make me feel bad.” She took a step and then another before mustering up the courage to slip her arms around his body. They'd hugged plenty in the past, but without his shirt on, that dumbfriendwall she’d built started to crack. “Thank you. He said I had a good tutor, and I agree with him.”

He hugged her back.

His warm skin, the scent of soap clinging to it, pressed against her cheek. His hands moved to her back. She squeezed her eyes shut. When was the last time a man held her this way? It seemed tender and possessive like he’d keep her pulled tight against him forever. But she didn’t know how to make that leap of faith. How to trust him.

She slid her hands, planning to pull away and stop tempting herself until they touched his side. The skin puckered under her fingertips, and her breath caught.

It'd frightened her the first time she'd seen it. Not the scarring. The mental image of him severely hurt. How quickly she'd have lost him before even finding him again.

His lips brushed the top of her head.

Her resolve snapped like a string pulled too tight. Her feelings weren't platonic.

This was foolish.

Life was too short to ignore what was between them. What had been between them since the beginning. The scars under her fingertips proved that.

“Hudson?”

He tilted his body down a little, his voice sounding softer than before. “Hmm?”

“I don't want to bejustfriends with you.” Her stomach tightened as the words left her lips. Her heartbeat pounded in her chest. At his continued silence, she mustered up the courage to peek at him, their mouths lining up perfectly when he tilted his head down.

“You don't?” He asked, his voice deep and seductive.

To prove it to him, or to give in to her own needs, she rose on her toes and laid her lips lightly on his. “No.”

“Oh, thank God,” he mumbled before diving his hands into her hair and kissing her with so much passion, they both stumbled. He wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her close to his body like she weighed nothing.

She'd never contemplated, not really, what it was like to go from friend to lover. Maybe it was because he'd been gone for so long, but there wasn't any part of their kiss that made her uncomfortable. The opposite. Just like she'd leaned on him to help her make it through school, she let him take the lead.

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