Page 209 of Beautiful Collide

Hudson:IT’S NOT A HONEYMOON.

Mason:Sure, Farmer Hudson. Now go tend to your chickens or whatever.

Hudson:I hate all of you.

Mason:Love you too, big guy. ??

Aiden:??

Dane:??

Hudson:What’s with the basket?

Dane:It’s for the eggs Molly’s probably gathering.

Hudson:I’m blocking this chat.

Mason:No, you’re not. You’d miss us too much.

Hudson:I’ll send you all hay bales for Christmas.

Aiden:He admits it! There’s hay!

Mason:HA.

Hudson has left the chat.

Mason:He’ll be back.

Aiden:He always comes back.

Dane:Text me when he starts ranting about this in person.

Mason:Deal.

75

Molly

The chillof the rink hits me the moment we step inside.

It’s freezing in here. Or maybe it’s the contrast from the warm air outside, but damn I’m cold.

The crisp air tickles my cheeks as we make our way to the ice.

“This was the first real rink I ever skated on,” Hudson tells me as we stand beside the entrance.

His grin is wide enough to make my heart stutter.

He looks alive here, like the ice is where he belongs, where he’s completely himself.

“All right, Hex.” He nods toward the benches. “Let’s do this.”

“Do what?” I glance at him and then at the ice.

“Lace up, duh.” He motions to the skates he’s carrying.

“Wait, are we really doing this?” Can I sound any dumber? Of course we’re skating. He’s borrowed Anna’s skates; what did I think he was going to do with them?

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