Page 73 of Marry Me, Maybe?
Hudson gave a stiff nod, gaze fixed somewhere over my shoulder. “My dad’s. His favorite. I’d just fought with my parents because they didn’t like my fast lifestyle. Got drunk. Drove it straight into the stone gate and half the garden wall.”
“You could’ve killed yourself.”
The thought left me cold on the inside. To never have met Hudson. To Ivy never existing. It all felt wrong.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Didn’t care if I did then to be honest.”
But I cared.
God, I cared so damn much. Wasn’t that the reason I was here, trying to figure us out?
I sifted through the worst parts of his life laid bare in my lap, seeing pieces of him he’d never trusted me with. The wreckage he’d hidden behind his silence, flirtatious smiles, and his neediness in my bed. The damage he thought made him unworthy. And somehow, it made me love him more.
Another paper slid forward—civil suit documentation. Plaintiffs: James and Patricia Granger. My jaw went slack. “They sued you? Your own parents?”
“Full cost of damages. No financial help. Said I had to learn consequences.” He shrugged like it didn’t gut him to say it. “They said it was for my own good. To stop my reckless behavior and teach me to grow up. They weren’t necessarily wrong.”
Surely, they could have taught him consequences some other way? To sue their son, who couldn’t rub two pennies together, was reprehensible. What kind of childhood did Hudson have? We’d never talked about that either.
Shit.
Was he right? Had we only fucked that summer while learning nothing about each other?
I flipped more.
Six months served. Restitution agreement: 50% of wages to be garnished until balance is cleared.
“You’re still paying them?” My voice cracked.
Hudson nodded. “Every paycheck. Occasionally late, but I never missed one.”
My throat burned. But there was more. I could feel it.
The next stack was tabloid-thin, folded newspaper clippings.
Local Man Arrested in Undercover Sting Operation.
Adult Film Actor Among Those Caught Soliciting.
Photos. Mugshots. A headline that should’ve belonged to someone else. Anyone else. Not Hudson.
“You did porn?” I whispered. The disbelief in my voice made him wince.
He looked down. “Never went to college. Never paid attention in school either. My options were limited, and I needed to pay off my parents fast to cut ties with them. I started with a few clips online. Then…escorting. I didn’t know one of the guys was a cop posing as a client. That arrest stuck.”
“What kind of porn did you do?”
He chuckled, but the sound was tired. “Nothing great if you look it up online. No passion, they said. I was a lousy top, so I didn’t last long and went into escorting. When men are closeted and desperate, they don’t mind a lousy fuck.”
“Were you with a man at all before escorting?”
“In jail.” He rubbed his forehead as if it hurt. “I never had family who checked in on me, sent me money. One guy traded some essentials if he could blow me. That’s where I got the idea when I was out to, err, continue that line of business.”
“Hud—”
“I know it’s not pretty stuff. Didn’t even think of myself as gay or bi or whatever. I was in it for the money.” He looked up finally, eyes bloodshot. “Until I met you. You were cocky and so sure you would get me even after I told you I didn’t bottom.”
“Did you regret it? Bottoming for me?”
