Page 175 of Beautiful Collide

“Yet,” I say, leaning against the table beside her, “you’re still here.”

She rolls her eyes but can’t fight the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Don’t you have something better to do? Like chasing pucks or falling on your face?”

“Funny,” I say, tilting my head. “You didn’t mention anything about me falling on my face.In Vegas.”

Her eyes widen, and her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink. “Don’t you dare.”

I grin. “Don’t I dare what? Remind you of the Elvis vows? Or the fact that you were a willing participant?”

“Hudson.” She glances toward the glass window, most likely worried that someone might hear us. “We agreed not to talk about this in public.”

“We’re alone.” I move in closer. “And I’m just saying, I think Elvis would be proud of us right now.”

She groans, covering her face with her hands. “Why are you like this?”

“Charming? Irresistible? Devastatingly handsome?” I offer.

“Infuriating,” she mumbles through her fingers.

I reach out, placing my hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Hex. Admit it. You like me. Just a little.”

She reaches out, removing my hand. “You’re insufferable.”

“Which is basically the same as lovable,” I point out.

She shakes her head, but her lip twitches. “You’re impossible.”

“Yet”—I lean close, my lips practically touching hers—“you married me.”

Her breath catches, most likely trying to decide whether to punch me or kiss me.

“Hudson.” Her voice catches me off guard.

“Yeah?” I raise an eyebrow.

“You need to go back to practice before Mason comes up here looking for you.”

I shake my head. “He won’t.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because he’s too busy perfecting his drunk toddler move,” I say, grinning.

Molly laughs, the sound light and unexpected, and everything else fades.

It’s just us in this stupid little box, and I don’t want to be anywhere else.

“You’re impossible.” She shakes her head.

“You already said that. Plus, it doesn’t matter. You’re stuck with me.”

She inches her head back, the space between us growing. I don’t like it and will need to remedy that. “For now.”

“For now”—I reach my hand out, cradling her jaw—“but I don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind either,” she whispers, and just like that, I know I’m screwed.

With that settled, I pounce, pushing her back until she leans on her elbows, that way no one can see us, and then I make quick work of dropping down to the floor in front of her.

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