Page 22 of Secret Hudson

“Guess you better put on that shirt.” He nods toward the blue button up I still have in my hand.

“Guess so.”

I grumble a few choice words as I break away from him and get dressed again, still feeling the heat from his gaze as I do so.

“There. And I’ve got at least a minute to spare.” Or so I think. No sooner has my mouth found Hudson’s lips, than Ava comes bursting in again.

“What are you doing? Come on!”

“Any chance you could learn to wait for someone to invite you in? I mean, what is the point of even knocking?”

She snorts. “To let you know that I’m coming in! And no, I can’t wait to be invited. I’d be out in the hall all night. What, I look stupid to you?” She grabs my arm and I stumble my way out of the room, Hudson right behind me. Then Ava stops abruptly. “Whoa, where’s the camera? Seriously, boys. I need some of that blood to start traveling above the neckline again.” She shakes her head, laughing at us. She has a point. Being this fucking horny is clearly affecting my ability to focus on things other than Hudson. There’s no denying the man is on my mind twenty-four fucking seven these days. Except, I don’t really think that sleeping with him is going to make a damn difference there.

We’re barely on the bus when some blonde with massive breasts has her arms draped over my neck and her tongue in my ear. “Hey, sexy. I was wondering when you were going to show up to the party.”

“Yo, Whorebag Barbie, back it up,” Ava intercepts. “This is a look but no touch zone. Got it?”

The blonde’s expression turns sour. “I’m sorry. Are you fucking them all now?”

Ava squints, and I’m sure she’s casting imaginary darts straight for Barbie’s fake breasts, popping them like water balloons. She told me once she likes to do that.

“How about you worry less about who I’m fucking and more about who won’t be fucking you. Now cover up that slice of pepperoni you call a nipple and act like a girl who has at least heard of the word ‘class’ before I have Darrel throw you out.”

I do my best to avoid having to say anything at all and just stay glued to Ava. I let her maneuver our way through the crowd until I find a safe spot next to Blaise. None of the women ever go anywhere near him anymore. Well, at least not with their tongues. Ava’s made sure of that.

“Damn, you’re going to need a box of Q-tips and some rubbing alcohol after that encounter.” Blaise apparently viewed the mauling.

“No shit.” I rub my ear, wondering if you can get herpes on your ear drum. Probably not. I notice two younger, much shyer girls standing over to the side, nervously tittering and staring at the both of us. They seem safe enough. “You two want anything to drink?”

They both turn to each other rambling something along the lines of ‘Royce Lemmi...something something...us’ and then squeal loudly before shuffling toward us, taking the smallest steps humanly possible.

Blaise hands them both two sodas from the ice tub behind him. “So, this your first Finding Nolan concert?”

“Uh-huh.” Now that they’re closer, I realize they’re even younger than I thought. They can’t be more than eighteen. They better be at least that.

I cheers them both with my bottle of water. “So, what’d you think?”

“OMG, it was amazeballs. Totes terrific!”

I search Blaise’s face for some sort of translation, but his raised brows tell me he’s just as lost as I am.

“Then, you liked it?”

They both burst into loud giggles. “Yes!” When they manage to calm themselves down again, they each retrieve their ticket stubs from their purses. “Would you sign these?”

“Absolutely.” I grab one of the fifty-thousand sharpies floating around here and write my name on the paper. Then, I reach behind the ice tub and pull out two t-shirts. “Here, you can get the whole band to sign these if you want.”

More squealing ensues and suddenly having one ear clogged up with Whorebag Barbie’s spit isn’t so bad anymore. By the time the girls calm down again, and Blaise and I sign their t-shirts, we have just enough time to personally escort them to Angel and Derek (the barracudas would never let them through without us) before Darrel clears the bus and we’re on the road heading for the airport.

The drive isn’t long but given that we’re about to spend six hours on a plane, it isn’t surprising most of the guys opt to stretch out in their bunks for as long as they can.

I’m intending to do the same thing, when I find Hudson sitting by himself in the back of the bus. He’s messing around on his laptop, scanning through the pictures he took tonight. Isn’t until I get closer that I realize the particular set he’s stuck on, is of the tongue and ear incident.

Hudson still has his back to me when he starts talking. “You know, of all the things I was expecting to see on this tour, somehow, I hadn’t prepared myself for this.”

I shrug. “Shit. I don’t even know how often this stuff happens and I’m still never prepared for it.”

He turns around. “Why didn’t you stop her?”

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