Page 23 of Secret Hudson

My eyes travel toward the bunk Ava’s in, likely curled up to Blaise and much happier than I am at this very moment. “Because I knew Ava would.”

Hudson doesn’t seem satisfied. “But why did she have to?”

I frown. “Because it’s her fucking job.”

He stands up to meet me at eye level. “Really? That’s part of her job? Funny. I could have sworn it was your body. Your responsibility. But hey, I guess that explains why she’s busting in on us every time my tongue gets anywhere near you.”

Fuck. I suck at this shit, but even I can tell this isn’t going well. “I think we’re getting off track here. Yes, it’s my body, no, that’s not why Ava comes busting in on us. There’s like a list that goes on and on which would explain Ava and why she does what she does, but I don’t think you’re really interested in that part of the story right now.” I take a deep breath. “The reason I don’t stop the girls, the reason none of us do, is because it makes us look better when we don’t. Trust me, Ava never skips a beat. She doesn’t like us getting molested any more than we like it. Okay, to be fair, Angel likes it, but the rest of us only let it happen because it’s part of the fucking life. I can’t help it. It’s just what goes on at these parties. These women, they don’t see us as people. They just see us as, fuck, I don’t what they see us as, pieces of meat? Cocks they want to suck? Bodies they want to fuck? You name it, it probably applies.” By the time I’m done ranting, I feel like I argued my case pretty sufficiently. Except Hudson still looks pissed.

“You know what would probably keep women from molesting you? If you told them you like fucking men.”

And there it is. Well. We made it just over a week. Would have been nice to actually have sex, but whatever. I’ve goneseveral months without already. Maybe I’ll just give it up for good. What’s the fucking point to any of it anyway when it always leads to this goddamned moment?

“I can’t tell them that.” I’m not keeping eye contact anymore. My shoes are far easier to face than Hudson’s pained expression.

“Why not? I don’t get. You’re out to your friends. You made no secret of things in front of me that day at the shop. Where is this invisible line you can’t walk your secret homo-self past? Huh?”

Damn. Hudson has a mean streak. I had it coming, but still. That shit hurts worse than I would have liked it to. And in some sick sort of manic moment to avoid experiencing any more of the pain I know is sure to come if I follow through with the truth, I do the only thing I can think of.

“Ava won’t let me come out publicly.”

I lie.

HUDSON

“What?” I’m sure he didn’t just say that.

“Ava won’t let me come out to the public. She says it would hurt the band’s image. Part of what sells is the sex appeal. I come out, we lose some of that.” Royce still isn’t looking at me and I suddenly feel like the biggest asshole on earth. Here I’m accusing him of things he has zero control over. Things that probably make him miserable. I mean, who wouldn’t be? No one can be happy living a lie. And that’s what Ava is forcing him to do. Even if it is only to the outside world. In a way, that’sthe harder lie to live with. The one that keeps you caged. When the world doesn’t know, you can’t step outside of your own four walls without the fear of your secret escaping you, breathing down your neck with every step you take, slowly strangling you, controlling you. I know that all too well. I saw what it did to Paul.

I let my hand find his chin, using my fingers to tilt it up so I can see those beautiful blue eyes of his again. “I’m sorry. Really. I’m a total ass. I had no idea.”

His shoulders bob listlessly. “It’s fine. Seriously. How could you know?”

I wrap my arms around his neck, drawing him in, holding him close. “It’s not fine. I should have known you wouldn’t choose this. I just can’t believe Ava would put business over your friendship.”

He doesn’t say anything, just reaches his arms around my waist and lets me hold him. And suddenly I realize that this is all I ever want to do. Hold him. Make him feel whole. Accepted. Loved. Whether he’ll ever fully be able to return those feelings or not.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ROYCE

It’s later in the afternoon when we land in Frankfurt, Germany and we’re all beat. Even flying first class can’t make up for the last few weeks of going non-stop. At least the time difference means we’ll be getting back to bed sooner rather than later.

The next portion of the tour will be somewhat more spread out to allow for traveling since we won’t have a tour bus from here on out. Plus, Ava has a thing for Europe. Mostly, I think that’s the reason she insists on the scheduling the way she does. Nobody cares what her reasons are. It’s just nice not to have a show every night of the week.

After Frankfurt, we’re headed to Copenhagen, Denmark. From there, we’ll sort of circle around until we wind up near the starting point, in the UK where we will not only end the European part of our tour, but will also be preforming at the EMAs, also known as the MTV Europe Music Awards. Then, there’ll be our final stop down under in Australia, before we eventually find our way back home.

Laying here in our own private room for a change, with Hudson’s head resting on my chest while some German sitcom plays in the background, I’m in no hurry to go anywhere.

His phone beeps and he stretches out his arm to get it from the nightstand without moving any other part of his body.

“Your mom?” She’s a regular.

“Uh-huh.” His fingers fly over the screen as he texts her back. “Wanted to make sure we got here safely.” He chuckles. “Sometimes I think she’s still under the impression that I’m just five or six, about to venture into the world for my first day of school or something.”

I stroke his jet-black hair. It’s grown out quite a bit since we first met. “I think it’s sweet.”

He lifts his head to look at me. “Yeah, I bet you do. When was the last time your mother called to check up on you?”

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