“Alayna and I were getting to know each other.” Sophia switched gears as easily as Hudson.

Chandler cocked a brow skeptically.

I used the boys’ intrusion to escape. “The pool’s all yours. I’m done here.” Without looking back, I hurried into the house through the kitchen and up to the east wing, not stopping until I was outside our bedroom doors.

Then the tears fell, thick and heavy. I leaned against the wall, and slid down to a sitting position, unable to stand in the weight of my grief. So many emotions and thoughts warred for top billing. Sophia’s insults had hurt, but what pained me most was the possibility that she was right.

What had I seen to show me differently? We’d had instances—Hudson and I—where I believed he truly cared, that he felt more for me than physical attraction, but had I imagined them? I had my own history of making meaningless moments carry heavier weight than they were meant to.

And her description of a sociopath did fit Hudson. I didn’t need to look up the definition—I’d been in enough group therapy sessions to be familiar with the signs. But I’d never associated Hudson with the definition until Sophia had pointed it out. Had I purposefully ignored the connection?

Or was Sophia wrong?

I’d had therapists misdiagnose me early on in my therapy. And Brian’s understanding of my problems was way off base. What if Hudson believed the worst about himself because Sophia had believed it? Maybe he’d never had a chance to prove her wrong.

Maybe that’s what I was—a chance.

The possibility calmed me, though I was smart enough to realize its improbability.

I wiped my face with my damp towel and pushed myself up from the ground. Taking a deep breath I pushed open the door as quietly as I could.

“Alayna?” I heard Hudson reach to switch on the bedside lamp. “Is that you?”

“Yeah.” I turned toward the door as I closed it, giving myself a minute to compose myself. “I wasn’t tired, so I went for a swim.” I took a deep breath then plastered a smile on my face before facing him.

“Good, I’m glad you…” He leaned forward, his body tense. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Was I that transparent? I couldn’t talk to him—not now.

“Your eyes are red. You’ve been crying.”

“No, no. The chlorine. Bothers my eyes.” I rubbed at my puffy eyes hoping to accentuate my point.

He tilted his head, as if deciding whether I was being honest with him.

I couldn’t take his scrutiny. If he pressed, I’d break, and I needed to settle my emotions about him and his mother’s claims before I spoke with him about them. What would he say anyway? He’d either deny it or he wouldn’t. If he denied it, could I trust him? If he didn’t deny it, could I trust that?

Searching for an escape, I said, “Um, I’m going to jump in the shower.”

“I’ll join you.”

I didn’t argue. But we didn’t speak as we entered the bathroom and undressed, Hudson helping me untie the back of my bikini top before he worked to remove his own clothing. I hung my wet suit on the edge of the tub and climbed into the shower, adjusting the temperature until it was near scalding.

When Hudson joined me, his penis already semi-erect, longing overcame me. I didn’t know all the truth about Hudson, and I did know many damning truths about myself. But faced with his na**d hard body and the awareness that—whether or not he could love me—he could make me feel better, at least for the moment, I pulled him toward me urgently, claiming his mouth with a hunger I’d never experienced.

“Alayna?” He pulled away, his hands firmly grasped on my shoulders. “Something’s wrong. Tell me.”

“I’m fine. I just…” I loved him. That was why I was torn up over everything Sophia had said. I loved him and I wanted—needed—to believe Hudson could love me too.

Not able to say those words—not yet—I settled for another version of the truth. “I need you.”

He knew I was hiding something, but he nodded. “I’m here, precious.” Then he took over, fulfilling me in ways only he could, satisfying me as deeply as he was able.

I lost myself to it, letting myself forget that he might never be able to love me in any way but this—with his mouth and tongue and cock.

Maybe it could be enough.

Chapter Nineteen

I woke early, aware of Hudson working behind me in the bed, again on his laptop. But I didn’t let on that I was awake, allowing myself to process the events of the night before.

Maybe because it was a fresh day, or perhaps because I wasn’t face-to-face with Sophia, the facts didn’t seem as overwhelming as they had. The truth was, whatever the reality of our relationship, it didn’t change the fact that I was in love with Hudson Pierce. And being in love with Hudson Pierce put me on his side, whether he was capable of returning my feelings or not. His side meant proving to Sophia that her son was not the unfeeling sociopath that she believed he was, a task that might very well be impossible, but I resolved to give it my best shot. After all, that was the job I’d been hired to do.

And, if I played it right, the work might even be enjoyable.

Determined, I stretched, sat up against the bed frame, and leaned into Hudson. I needed to get him out of his computer and on board.

“Good morning, precious.” He glanced over, his eyes pausing on my bare br**sts before he returned his focus to the screen, a twinkle in his eyes. “Did you get enough sleep?”

“I did.” The alarm clock on the nightstand read a few minutes past eight. It was early for me, but I felt rested, adapting somewhat to his traditional sleep schedule.

Hudson still in bed at that time of morning was what was surprising, even awake and working. I’d learned during our get-to-know you game that he usually got up around six. I suspected that this morning he lingered because of my behavior the evening before. He’d sensed my distress and he cared that I felt that way. Didn’t that show capability of love?

Now wasn’t the time to analyze. I filed it away to ponder later.

I skimmed his shoulder with my lips, running my fingers through the soft hair at the base of his neck. “Hudson? Are you going to work all day?”

He stopped typing and rubbed his rough chin against the side of my forehead. “Does my working bother you?”

“Not really. But I was thinking...” I took a deep breath then plunged in. “I didn’t really see your mother yesterday. Shouldn’t we try to spend some time with her today?”