Page 157 of Beautiful Collide

I left.

Am I just hungover from the club?

No.

I drank more after.

Champagne in the room . . .

My stomach twists uncomfortably as the memories come back to me in flashes.

Hudson showed up at my door.

The bottle of champagne I gave him to open.

Why did I do that again? My headache definitely stems from that poor decision.

I was already drunk before my tongue even touched the bubbles . . .

Okay, what else can I remember?

Think.

His grin.

The kind of grin that spells trouble.

Laughing. I remember laughing so hard my belly hurt.

Music?

Okay, that one throws me for a loop. Did I really play music in my room?

I did, and we danced.

“Shit,” I whisper, my eyes widening as a wave of scenes play out in my mind.

Hudson and I stumbled out of the hotel.

We were drunk.

Okay, but where did we go?

I remember we were still high on adrenaline from the Saints winning the Cup.

He threw his arm around me . . .

We weren’t hiding. It felt as natural in the world to walk openly with him. Granted, it was the middle of the night, and everyone we knew was already asleep. Maybe that’s why we felt so comfortable.

A flash of him beaming down at me, a smile so wide it was big enough to split the Vegas Strip.

A joke.

He made me laugh.

Then he said . . .

“You know—we should just get married. Solve all our problems in one shot.”

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