“Well, well, well, how the mighty have fallen,” Nick said the moment Hudson walked into the game room. He’d already stripped his jacket off and flung it on the leather chesterfield. “That’s a new development. Finally relocated your balls and called her, huh?”
Hudson cut his brother a sharp look. “Don’t start, Nick.” God help him, tonight was going to be an eternity without her, not to mention painful if his brother kept up this shit.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Nick shook his head, a shit-eating grin on his face and a not-letting-this-go gleam in his eye. “You’re even more pussywhipped than you were back in the day.”
“Zip it, Nick.”
“Come on, bro, lighten up.” He laughed. “You’re like the pussy whisperer. You usually got them lined up.”
Hudson came to a halt. “Don’t push me on this. She’s just . . .” He thought about Allie and all her quirks. That it took her ten minutes to order a damn coffee, the way she had fifty questions lined up after he said a single sentence, and how the only way to shut her up was to kiss her senseless.
“She’s just what, got you by the balls?”
“The heart, man. The fucking heart.” He exhaled and cocked a slight grin. “I love her.”
“Hey, sorry for poppin’ shit. But that’s what little brothers do, ya know?”
“Yeah, I know. Now can I school your punk ass in a game of pool?”
“As if.” Nick flopped over the back of the couch and stretched out on the tufted leather. “I think I missed this room most of all.”
Hudson chuckled. “This is what you missed the most?” The game room was a dark, luxurious space that kept in time with the era of the building, but with a modern spin. The place had it alclass="underline" poker and pool tables, flat screens and surround sound, couches to comfortably seat ten, a fireplace to take the chill off or to set the mood, a bar with every conceivable liquor, beer, or beverage of choice, and of course, the infamous dart board. Nick always said the only thing missing was a peanut warmer and permission to toss his shells on the floor. But after thirty days locked up with nothing but basic cable and institutional food, Hudson wouldn’t have thought the game room topped Nick’s list.
“Shit, yeah. Your house is Disneyland for adults. And not Anaheim Disney, but frickin’ Orlando Disney.”
Hudson smirked. He and Allie had certainly turned the room into their own Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, rattling a few chains, so to speak.
“Then there’s your ‘Black Book,’ which is Magic Mountain. You know they have an app for that? A stripper pole would make it heaven, icing on the cake.”
“Not a chance in hell.” Hudson hit the switch to the Art Deco Tiffany chandelier spotlighting the table’s red baize.
Nick sat up and dragged a hand through his hair. Damn, the two of them were more alike than he’d ever admit. “Ah, come on. Don’t go soft on me. You’re like, shit, I don’t know, the god of Penthouse.”
“Playboy.” Hudson corrected. “The place was the headquarters of Playboy. And I excel at never being soft.”
“TMI.” Nick collected the balls from the pockets and racked them up. He gave them a quick one-two rollup and back and they clacked together. “My bad.” He hung the triangle back on its designated hook. “Dudes in rehab were like, when can I come over and kiss the wood Hefner walked on? You could charge admission.”
Hudson grabbed a couple of cues off the wall. “Admission and stripper poles, huh? Any other plans you have for my apartment?”
“Nah, that about covers it. And apartments are rinky-dink in the size department. This is a penthouse. An apartment is what I live in.”
“Wouldn’t know it with how much time you’re parking your ass over here.” Hudson tossed a cue to Nick, who caught the stick in midair.
“I like being here.”
“Go ahead and break.” Hudson walked over to the fridge behind the bar and gripped the cool steel handle. “Something to drink?” Fuck, the question was as ritualistic as brushing your teeth in the morning. He looked through the glass into the fully stocked stainless box. He was an asshole, he thought, for not cleaning the thing out. “Shit.” His hand dropped, and he did a one-eighty to face his brother. “I’m sorry, Nick.”
“Look, I’m cool.” Nick chalked up his cue. “Old habits die hard, huh?”
Hudson let out a short chuckle. “Case in point.”
“Have a beer, whatever you want. I’m good.”
“I don’t want to make it harder on you than it already is.”
“Part of the deal is learning how to cope with people drinking around me. So for fuck’s sake, bro, have what you want.” Nick took his shot and the balls cracked together and scattered. “Besides, I’ll still kick your ass,” he said as three balls sank with that one stroke. “Solids.”
“Jesus, Nick.” Hudson yanked open the fridge and grabbed two sparkling waters. Usually pool and the cold and frothy were synonymous, but tonight he was more interested in being with his brother than having a beer. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d simply played a game of pool or just hung out with Nick, listening to him spout off wisecracks. Although, he wasn’t completely at ease. Allie was outside of these walls, and his past kept showing up in his head like a goddamn slideshow. But he was no more ready to Dr. Phil those memories than he was to have a root canal. And he sure as hell wasn’t ready to lose this game.
Nick missed his next shot. “Ah, fuck. You’re up.”
“Luck only gets you so far,” Hudson said, walking around to the opposite side of the table before leaning over the felt. “Skill always prevails.” He took his shot and sank two stripes.
Nick cranked the surround with Volbeat’s “Pool of Booze, Booze, Booza.” Strong guitar riffs and the deep baritone of the lead singer’s Denmark accent pounded off the walls. Nick cocked a smart-ass grin. Leave it to his brother to find the humor and lighten the mood.
Hudson shook his head and smiled. “Nice choice.” As he sank another ball, all the shit he was stuffing down sank with it. But he was a bomb ready to explode.
Chapter Nineteen
Allie slid the elevator key Hudson had given her into the panel and pressed the button for the penthouse. Immediately the car began its smooth glide to the top floor of the Palmolive building. She took a deep breath and kept her eyes trained on the wood carvings that decorated the inside of the doors. As the numbers on the display above them grew higher, so did the level of her anxiety.
Her grip tightened on the shopping bag that held the baking supplies she’d bought the night before. And her clothes. And her panties. What the hell had she been thinking? She shifted restlessly from one foot to the other. The movement rubbed her bare breasts against the fabric of her coat in a not so subtle reminder. It was Hudson, and the fantasy he’d described the night before, that had her arriving at his penthouse wearing nothing but heels, a coat, and a smile. Well, at least the heels and the coat. The smile was beginning to waiver.
She’d come up with the idea when he’d given her his key. It had seemed like a fabulous plan at the time, and much less daring than strolling down Whacker Drive au naturel. But now that she was standing in his elevator, she wasn’t so sure she could pull it off.
A horrified gasp escaped her lips as another thought crossed her mind. What if Nick had spent the night and was still there? The image of Hudson offering to take her coat while his little brother sat eating his cereal at the breakfast bar had her reconsidering the entire plan. She’d decided a return trip to the lobby restroom was her safest bet when the elevator doors slid open. A low growl that sounded more animal than human echoed from the rear of the penthouse.