Page 86 of Beautiful Collide

Those plans are to drive me crazy and, most likely, win the side bets they all made.

I stop dead in my tracks when Mason laughs loud enough to draw attention from the entire room. That’s never a good sign.

From the way Mason is laughing like a damn hyena, he’s up to something, and it doesn’t take me long to figure outwhat when he makes a sweeping gesture toward the seat beside Hudson.

The only empty seat.

I glance around, hoping for some miraculous alternative, but nope—every other chair is taken. This is a setup. A cruel, calculated setup.

My feet are weighted to the floor and refuse to move.

“Right there, Molly,” Mason announces this time. “That’s your seat.” It’s said in a way that the whole team can hear.

My face burns, but I keep it together. I will not give them the satisfaction of seeing me sweat.

“Actually, I was going to—”

“Sorry, there are no other seats unless you aren’t eating with us.” Mason, ever the troublemaker, flashes a wicked grin. “Dane said it would be okay.”

I shoot my brother a glare across the table, but Dane just shrugs, barely looking up from his phone. “It’s part of the truce,” he mutters, clearly more interested in whatever’s on his screen than my impending misery.

Traitor.

Hudson is already in the seat, leaning back in his chair, one arm draped over the backrest like he owns the place.

His smirk is so wide he looks like he belongs in the movieSmile. “Don’t worry, Hex. I won’t bite,” he whispers for only me to hear.

The double meaning in his voice makes my stomach do an unwanted flip.Damn him.

“Whatever,” I mutter as I slide into the chair beside him.

The table is way too small, clearly designed for “intimate” dinners—which this is absolutely not. The second I sit, my knee bumps into Hudson’s under the table. Of course, he doesn’t move it.

I press my lips together.

Great. Just great.

He’s way too close to me. I can feel his arm and his thigh.

I try not to focus on it, but my traitorous brain has other plans. Images I’ve tried to bury resurface: his hands, his touch, the way his voice dips when he’s being serious.

I close my eyes, willing the thoughts away. But the moment Hudson’s fingers brush against my bare thigh, I nearly choke on my own breath. It’s like he can read my mind, and he’s weaponizing it against me.

I cough uncontrollably.

“You okay?” Hudson asks, his voice so innocent it could win awards.

“Yes,” I groan back because I’m not. I’m annoyed, flustered, and horny. Not a good combination.

The entire table turns to watch, grinning like they’re all in on some inside joke. Mason and Aiden exchange a look, and I know exactly what it means: they’re betting on how long I’ll last before snapping.

“No way you’re winning,” Aiden says, raising an eyebrow at Mason.

“Fifteen minutes, I’m telling you,” Mason replies, leaning forward like this is the most important conversation of his life.

They’reallbetting on us. I figured Mason would, but everyone?Jeez.

This is low, even for them.

---