Page 10 of Beautiful Collide

“And you? Do you have a name?”

“Hudson Wilde.”

Hudson.

I realize he gave it to me earlier as we argued. He held his hand out, and I didn’t even shake it. I almost feel bad about it. Almost.

Consider it the price of admission for staring at my ass.

Which, to be fair, I would’ve enjoyed, since heishot. But he caught me at a bad time. Or rather I caughthimat a bad time. It’s game day, the closet must be a zillion degrees, and I absolutely loathe enclosed spaces.

If Hudson remembers that he already gave me his name, he doesn’t call me out on my panic-induced memory lapse. He just helps me ride this out, patting my hand every now and then.

“Fun name,” I manage to groan out.

“I think so.” The corner of his mouth tips up into a smirk, and I swear it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

That’s one way to calm a panic attack.

As if on cue, my gaze darts around the room, and it all comes rushing back. I’m locked in the storage closet. No way out. And I doubt anyone will come for us for some time. Not with the game starting soon. I don’t even have my phone with me. Even if I did, it’s pointless. Huge chunks of the stadium have no signal.

My heart thumps in my chest again.

“Hey, you’re okay.” It’s shocking how fast he catches on to my changes. “What’s going on?”

I don’t answer.

I can’t.

My fingers start to tremble.

“Please, keep breathing for me.” Hudson leans closer, his voice soft. “Forget the world. Pay attention to me. And only me. You can do it.”

I focus on him. On the steady cadence of his voice, as he prompts me again.

“In . . . out . . .”

I release another breath, feeling some of the weight lift from my chest. “What if we don’t get out?”

“Impossible.” He shakes his head with such certainty I almost believe him. “Someone will eventually need something. That wrench, maybe?”

A tiny laugh tries to claw its way past my throat and fails. I’m too choked up. Too antsy and amped up, and the only reason I haven’t completely lost it is this total stranger.

A warm feeling spreads across my back when I realize he’s touching me.

“Isthisokay?” The concern in his voice nearly makes me sob.

I can’t remember the last time anyone cared for me like this.

Sure, Dane loves me. But he’s never been affectionate.

Not like this.

It’s not in his DNA. The man’s idea of love is patting my head like I’m a Labrador and telling me to suck it up.

I nod, welcoming Hudson’s comfort.

It takes me a few minutes of breathing before I can see again, and when I open my eyes, his bright blue gaze is staring into mine.