Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 139259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
“Can I help you?” Her voice carries over the cool night.
“Just out here to get some air.”
“Well, this roof is taken.”
Despite her words, I can tell from her light, airy tone that she’s happy to see me.
I lift my hands in mock surrender. “Didn’t know I’d be crashing your stargazing party.”
“It was supposed to be a party for one.” She arches a brow, turning back to the sky. “Or at least that’s how it was advertised.”
I bite back a grin. “You should get your money back.”
I make my way over to where she’s sitting and plop down beside her, tilting my head up to match her.
The stars are clearer here than I expected, but I guess it makes sense since this building is higher than the rest of the area.
For a few moments, we sit in silence. The tension is sharp, but not in a bad way. Almost exciting.
After brunch today, I wasn’t sure how she would react. But as I sit beside her, I know she doesn’t regret the kiss. That doesn’t mean I’ll make it easier on her. That’s not who we are, after all.
Being assholes to each other is practically our love language, or I think that’s the term Anna uses when she talks about boys she likes.
“You’re avoiding me,” I finally say, cutting through the silence as I tilt my head down to look at her again.
Molly glances at me, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I’m not avoiding you, Wilde.” I give her a pointed look, and she smiles. “Fine. I’m avoiding you. But it’s because I needed to think.”
“Think about what?”
She exhales deeply. “Don’t play dumb. You know what I was thinking about.”
“The kiss,” I say, my voice dropping low.
“Oh, jeez.” She scrunches her nose. “Can you not say it like that?”
“Say it like what?” I use the same tone, knowing it’ll press her buttons.
“Like you’re trying to seduce me.”
I wiggle my brows at her. “But aren’t I?”
She doesn’t answer, and I wonder if she plans to just stop speaking for the night.
But then she breaks the silence. “After today, who knows?”
“I’m playing the game I’m expected to play,” I answer vaguely.
She furrows her brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I sigh. “People expect a certain version of me. That’s all.”
It’s the same stupid story. The reputation I never asked for but ended up wearing anyway. What did Dane say again?
Hudson Wilde: the star that plays on and off the ice?
It didn’t matter what I said or how I acted. People had already made up their minds.
After that showdown in the hallway, word got out. The first time someone accused me of being a womanizer, I tried to laugh it off.
Then, when the rumors spread outside the arena, I fought against it.
I told them they were wrong.
I told them I wasn’t that guy.
But no one believed me.
The truth didn’t matter because the lie was more interesting.
Eventually, I stopped fighting it.
If they would paint me as the villain, I figured I’d give them what they wanted. I played the role they’d written for me—the smirking, careless, bad boy with a revolving door of women.
But the truth is, it never felt right.
I wasn’t proud of it. It’s not who I am, and it never was.
But the more I let people believe it, the more I felt like I’d buried the real me so deep, he’d never come back.
Molly bites her lower lip, sparing me a glance. “And that’s not who you are?”
I shake my head, no longer staring at the stars. “No.”
She shifts slightly, resting her chin on her knees, turning to face me fully. Her voice softens. “Then why pretend?”
I sigh, deciding to answer her honestly. “Because no one cares to see past the facade.”
“That’s not true, Hudson.”
“So . . . you do?”
She doesn’t answer.
I let out a bitter laugh, the sound empty and sharp. “Exactly.”
The silence that follows stretches, and it’s not a comfortable one. She opens her mouth like she wants to say something—maybe defend herself, maybe argue—but she closes it just as quickly.
I lean back, staring at the night sky again, the stars a blur I can’t focus on. “You know, it’s easier that way.”
“For everyone else,” she points out.
“Maybe.” I close my eyes, letting the wind lap at my cheeks. “They get to keep their neat little story about me. No one has to bother looking for more. And eventually . . .” I pause, forcing out a humorless laugh. “You start wondering if they’re right. If maybe you are just the bad guy they say you are.”
Molly’s quiet before she murmurs, “You’re not.”
The words are so soft I almost don’t hear them. I glance over at her. For the first time tonight, she’s finally looking at me. Really looking at me. Studying me.
Staring deep into my soul.
For a second, I think maybe she does see past it. Maybe she sees me.