Page 21 of Good Girl

The crazy flutters turn into a full-on swoop at Hudson’s words. I take a quick look at myself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror fixed to the wall before answering, just to make sure that I haven’t ruined the blue dress somehow.

Nope, all good.

“Yes, I’m ready,” I call back after a final backward glance at my reflection.

Picking up my bag by the little handle on top and the original contract, I walk from behind the privacy wall and into the bedroom. Hudson has his shoulder propped against the doorway, his eyes dropping down to my feet as he scans me from black shoes to flowing hair with the slight kinks left in it from Darcy’s braid.

His chest expands on a breath, and then he smiles at me, the heat in his eyes strong enough that my skin should be on fire. “You look beautiful.”

Fuck me, why are my cheeks getting hot?

“Uh, thank you,” I reply, almost stammering over the words, not really sure what to do with the compliment.

When he holds out a hand to me, I walk toward him to take it. Hudson raises my hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the knuckles, and I swear to god, my knees almost buckle. I remind myself this isn’t a fucking romance novel. It’s just all part of their weekend fantasy.

They are going to spoil the shit out of me now. Then they are going to fuck the shit out of me later.

Yay for the symmetry.

“Come on, I think that if we keep the others waiting any longer, Xavier is going to come in here and carry you to the car over his shoulder.”

I picture myself over Xavier’s shoulder with this short dress and giggle.

Giggle. I fucking giggle, all cutesy like.

Jesus christ.

Who even am I, right now?

Balls to the wall,I remind myself.

I mentally shake off the awkwardness I’m feeling and grin at Hudson. “I’m not sure I want my panties on display for everyone like that.”

Hudson shrugs as we leave the room and make our way to the other three all milling around the hallway that leads to the door. “Have you ever tried it?”

I tip my head to look up at him. “Tried what?”

“Having your panties on display for everyone to see.”

I open my mouth to reply, but I’ve got nothing. “That’s a thing?”

His lips quirk when he looks down at me. “Yes.”

That’s all he gives me.

“Ready?” Derek asks as we approach them, and Hudson affirms that we are.

I offer Derek the papers and he places them on top of the yellow envelope that sits on top of the hallway table.

Darcy steals my backpack, and for a moment, I feel bereft without it, but he shoots me a smile and I simmer down.

It’s not until we are in the elevator and heading down to the underground parking that it occurs to me that Hudson is still holding my hand. Our fingers aren’t laced; instead, they areclasped together, much like how I would hold my younger foster siblings’ hands.

There are four cars parked side by side with 1921 spray painted on the floor at the front of each parking spot. I scan all four cars and mentally place the men in each one.

The huge, dark gray SUV is totally Derek. Big, stable, protective.

The silver sports car is so Darcy. Flashy, quick, sleek.

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