Page 64 of Rosie and the Beast Next Door

“I don’t care if it was for this or not. I’m glad you’re here.” With Hudson, we were going to wipe the floor with the Bookish Ballers.

“Amelia’s spending the next month in Hawaii with her parents, so I figured I’d come home while she was gone.”

“How’s she doing?”

He shrugged, and his expression turned grim. “Surviving. I think some extra sun will do her and Quinn good.”

“It’s good of you to help her,” I said.

“I’m not doing it for praise,” he said, looking uncomfortable.

“I know,” I assured him with a gentle squeeze to his arm. “You’re a good brother.”

“Thanks, but she’s—” He looked up and suddenly went very still.

I turned to see Dylan, who had come to a complete stop a few feet away, his gaze on Hudson. His face was pale. He wore my softball shirt, which was at least one size too small, but I couldn’t take the time to appreciate his chest. Not with the stricken expression on his face.

“Hey, Dylan,” Hudson said quietly.

Dylan swallowed, nodded, and then turned and walked away. I shared a concerned look with Bennett, and went to follow him, but Hudson’s hand on my arm stopped me.

“Let me,” Hudson said quietly as he jogged after Dylan.

Chapter 24

Dylan

Me, Shiloh, and Hudson.We’d been inseparable growing up. The three musketeers, amigos, best friends.

I jogged and then ran through town, past people who paused in their games and picnics, past policemen chatting at road barriers, past children swinging on the playground and yelling, “Higher!”

I ran until I felt a hand come down onto my shoulder. The one I expected to feel from the moment I’d seen him.

Hudson Blaire.

I turned, and Hudson pulled me into a hug I didn’t expect or deserve. But I still gripped him as he pounded on my back. My eyes stung with the emotion I would not release. Especially not here, in front of all these people.

I could feel their stares on us as Hudson pulled back, his eyes red and watery. He’d never been embarrassed about showing his emotions, and I always wondered if it had anything to do with not being as competitive as me and Shiloh. Until college, when he’d had an unexpected growth spurt, Hudson had been smaller than the kids in his grade and had rarely made any of theteams he tried out for. Shiloh and I had protected him fiercely, and everyone quickly learned if you messed with Hudson, you messed with us—and we were big and ruthless, if necessary. We didn’t usually start fights, but we’d finish them.

“Hey,” Hudson said. He swiped his hand under his eyes. “It’s good to see you.”

I couldn’t talk past the knot in my throat, so I nodded. What I wouldn’t give to be on the ice right now, away from this conversation. How did you apologize for blowing off your friend’s calls and no-showing a funeral?

“Are you joining the team?” Hudson indicated my tight Icy Peaks shirt. I’d worn it to meet Rosie’s dare—and because I knew it’d make her laugh. It was so small I didn’t have full range of motion of my arms. Now, I felt stupid wearing it. Shiloh was dead, and I was out here trying to get a girl’s attention. What was wrong with me?

“Nah,” I said quietly. “Contracts and all that.”

Hudson’s smile was a ghost of the one he used to have, but it still reached his eyes. “Since when have you let a little ol’ piece of paper stop you from doing what you want?”

And there it was. The spark of challenge in his expression that Shiloh had shared. These two were always able to get me to do pretty much anything—from streaking down Main Street in the dead of winter, to racing back and forth on the ice until one of us collapsed in exhaustion.

The question was: did I want this? To play on the softball team? To spend more time with Hudson and Rosie and the people I’d never looked back at?

To face the things I’d been hiding from?

I wasn’t sure yet, but I’d never backed down from a challenge—until the hardest one in my life took me clear off my feet. Losing Shiloh was more than a challenge. I’d fallen into a crack in the icy lake and was fighting for my life.

“Listen, Hud.” I cleared my throat as I stared down at my hands. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t fast enough—”

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