Page 87 of Beautiful Collide

Hudson picks up his menu, smirk still firmly in place as he tilts it toward me. “What do you think, Molly? Want to share?”

I clench my jaw, forcing a tight smile. “How about I order something spicy, and you stay far away from it?”

Mason snorts. “I think it’s going to happen. I can feel it,” he tells Aiden in a half-whisper that might as well be a shout.

Hudson leans in, and I brace myself for whatever ridiculous thing he’s about to say. “We can share a Twinkie.”

I practically spit but manage to just choke instead.

“You okay?” His voice drips with faux concern.

“Yes.”

“Was it something I said?”

My nails dig into my palm as I fight the urge to throttle him.

The server arrives just in time to take orders, and I use the menu as a shield to avoid Hudson’s smug face.

As we wait for the food to arrive, I play on my phone, scrolling through videos and hoping no one bothers me.

I’m surprised when the food arrives only a few minutes later, but I welcome it because the faster we eat, the faster I can leave.

A few seconds later, the table is covered in steaming dishes that look like something out of a foodie’s dream. My plate is loaded with spicy pasta and vibrant red sauce. Hudson’s meal, of course, looks annoyingly perfect—a rare steak with roasted vegetables arranged like artwork.

I focus on eating, trying to lose myself in the familiar comfort of food. But even that’s impossible with Hudson sitting so close. Every time his fork clinks against his plate or his knee brushes mine, it’s like a jolt to my system.

Hudson’s body is way too close to mine through the whole meal, and I’m hyperaware of all his moves.

Even the way he chews somehow gets under my skin.

He doesn’t make noise. Or slurp. There’s no jaw clicking. He actually has great manners. Can he do anything wrong?

Why does he have to look so good doing the most mundane things? It’s infuriating.

The pasta is amazing, spicy enough yet not too spicy that it burns my lips.

For a brief few minutes, I manage to tune out the chaos around me. But it doesn’t last.

After I’m done eating, it becomes harder. Hudson doesn’t stop leaning closer, doesn’t stop smirking like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

When the server finally clears the last of the plates, I let out a sigh of relief. Dinner is almost done, and I made it.

“Tonight’s been . . . educational,” Mason says once the server is out of the room.

Hudson raises an eyebrow. “Educational?”

Mason grins. “Yep, tonight we learned that Molly has the patience of a saint. I’d never be able to sit next to you for this long. Not without killing you at least.”

Aiden nods. “I had money on Molly lasting thirty minutes.”

“I’m surprised you all didn’t already know that I’m a saint,” I fire back.

“Hardly,” Hudson mutters, just loud enough for me to hear.

There’s something in his tone, though—a softness buried under the teasing. It lingers, tugging at memories I’d rather leave buried.

A knowing tone.

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