Page 15 of Secret Hudson

“I don’t really...feel all that comfortable in front of a camera.”

“Just pretend you’re up on stage again and I’m but one of a million fans standing out in the crowd wishing I could have you all to myself.” Hudson winks and reaches his hand around my waist, placing it on my lower back and leading me toward the stairs up to his apartment.

“You kind of did tonight.” The words more or less fall over my foot and out of my mouth.

Hudson stops, his hand dropping from where he rested it on my back. “What do you mean?”

I close my eyes momentarily, trying to will time to turn back or the earth to open up and put me out of my misery, whichever is faster. When neither come about in a reasonable amount of time, I lift my lids and do my best to explain.

“You said to pretend you’re one of a million fans standing out in the crowd wishing you could have me all to yourself. And tonight, you sort of did. When I was playing, just...I played differently...because of you, because of how you make me feel.” Fuck. I'm taking a bad situation and making it worse with every stupid word I throw out there. It takes everything I have to just keep my mouth shut and let the already tossed chips fall where they may.

“I bet you say that to all the guys you make coffee for,” he teases and I'm half relieved, half disappointed he doesn’t take my accidental confession more seriously.

“Not exactly. Blaise and Derek aren’t really into hearing that sort of thing from me.”

Hudson grins. “What about Angel?”

“Doesn’t drink coffee. Not healthy enough for him.” The awkwardness melts away and his hand returns to my back, encouraging me to start walking toward his apartment again. We're halfway up the stairs when I realize he isn’t the only one who could be a potential victim to someone’s charms here.

“These pictures you want to take of me? Are they naked pics? Am I about to be seduced here?”

His hand reaches past me to open the door and let me in. “Only if you want to be.”

Shockingly, I'm not really sure what my answer is. I mean, I’d happily be seduced by him, but if his intentions are to nail me and leave me, well, I can think of less uncomfortable waysto spend a tour than to have a one-night stand follow me around with a camera.

Right around then, it occurs to me that he might not actually expect me to answer that proposal with a real response, so I bypass giving one by searching his apartment for something new and random to comment on.

“So, big movie buff?” I nod toward the case of DVDs on the back wall.

He shrugs. “Sort of. I’m less attached to the actual movies and more into the cinematography. So, you know, don’t judge me based on some of those titles.” He laughs and it's contagious, as is the ease with which he carries himself, and I feel myself relaxing again. Then I feel his fingers twine with mine as he takes my hand and I go back to being tense as a motherfucker in an instant.

“Come on.” His camera over his shoulder already, he tugs me toward a door I haven’t seen before, just off the kitchen. “I’m feeling inspired and the roof will work perfectly.” He turns to look at me. Apparently, I'm making a face that suggests I’m less than thrilled with the prospect. “What’s wrong? You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”

“No.” But I'm becoming increasingly afraid of him and how willing I am to follow wherever he goes.

HUDSON

We step out onto the roof, my hand still holding Royce’s, and I'm giving myself a big mental pat on the back for having the balls to make that move. He's an interesting contradictionof sorts. One minute he's openly admitting he's attracted to me and the next he seems tense and nervous just at the mere mention of us hooking up.

Clearly, Royce has been with other men in the past. All things considered, the list is probably longer than most, so it seems strange to think that he’s anxious at the thought of sex, period.

“What exactly do you want me to do?” He’s standing near the edge, the moonlight shining down on him perfectly, like the whole fucking universe understands that he's destined to stand under a spotlight.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing right now. And keep talking to me. In fact, if you could somehow forget that the camera is even here, that would be ideal.” I fight back a laugh. Even I know how ridiculous the request is. Given the smirk and slight roll of his eyes, Royce agrees.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll just totally space that little detail. It’s like I can’t even see it anymore. Nope, wait, there it is still blocking your face. Which is unfortunate, really. It’s a nice-looking face.”

He smiles, and my finger is permanently glued to the shutter release, taking one gorgeous shot after the next. The light is amazing. His mannerisms are beautifully un-posed and he...well he, is total perfection.

“You know,” he starts slowly, “I can’t help but think about how you mentioned all the things you see from behind that camera. Flaws and what not.”

“Feeling naked?” I wink, remembering how he asked about having to get bare for this photoshoot.

“So much so, I actually kind of would have preferred just taking my clothes off.”

I’m about to respond with something that's bound to be both incredibly witty as well as flirtatious when I hear the sound of a car door being slammed coming from down below. Temporarily moving the camera so I can see where I'm going, I come up beside Royce and glance down the side of the building. Down in the small alley, parked directly behind my car is my mother’s rusty red Cadillac Seville.

“Who’s that?” Royce checks his phone. “You expecting company at five o’clock in the morning? Do I need to shimmy down a drainpipe or something?”

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