Variation: A Novel
Variation: Chapter 11

Bway11te: Your control is breathtaking. Stunning. Better than your sister, to be honest.

For a second, I forgot how to breathe. Forget the nerves of walking into hostile territory—who cared about his family staring when Hudson had me pinned against his hard chest.

Friends. You’re just friends. Ex-friends at that. And this was just pretend, but damn did he feel real.

Maybe it was the pep talk I’d given myself on the way over about committing to this part, or the fact that I’d gotten up this morning and forced myself to put thought and care into my appearance for the first time in months. It could have been that I hadn’t taken anyone to bed since before Giselle—or even wanted to—but my entire body woke up and took notice of Hudson like someone had flipped a switch on my sex drive.

He was wearing a different Bruins cap, black board shorts, and a white monotone athletic shirt with the letters Sar emblazoned across his massive chest. A chest I really wanted to see without the shirt.

“There you are.” He grinned, and my brain ceased all function as that dimple popped in his cheek. “Glad you could make it.”

No, no, no, I lectured my stupid, inconvenient hormones. He was the last person on earth I should be attracted to, but the truth was he’d been the first. First real friend, first crush, first unrequited . . . whatever, followed by a real and lasting first heartbreak. I needed to play the besotted girlfriend, not actually get besotted.

“You can’t seriously be dating my brother.” Caroline glowered at me.

The spell broke, and I remembered we were anything but alone as Hudson moved to my side and shot a glare at his sister. I recognized the members of his family from pictures and the quick moments I’d bumped into them as a teenager, and my grip tightened on the gift bag containing the present I’d brought for Juniper as I plastered a smile on my face. This was just a part, and I was an expert at acting. No big deal.

It wouldn’t be the first time I’d had chemistry with the other lead.

“If you’re Caroline, then yes, I am,” I replied as Hudson’s hand slid across my back to splay over my hip. Heat danced up my spine from the casual contact. “I’m Alessandra, by the way.” I waved at his family instead of shaking their hands, since he had me anchored to his side. They all stared back in what appeared to be a fair amount of shock. “Allie for short,” I added, hoping that would help.

Hudson stiffened slightly when it didn’t.

“Fucking say something,” Gavin said from my left, holding a bag of potato chips. “You guys are making this as awkward as a middle school dance. Hey, Allie.” He offered the charming smile that had won Lina over one summer.

“Gavin.” My smile stayed glued in place.

“And you knew?” Caroline turned an accusatory look on her brother.

“Of course I knew. Who do you think encouraged him to make a move?” He shook his head.

Wait . . . we were going with the story that Hudson made a move? Shit. We hadn’t gone into specifics about what our story was. It was day one of this ruse and we were already screwing up.

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Allie.” Hudson’s mother smiled warmly, then picked up a clipboard from the island and all but shoved it at Caroline’s chest without even looking at her. “We’re all so delighted that Hudson’s finally brought someone home.” She glanced at her daughter. “Close your mouth, dear. We have a party to host.”

I glanced over his family, and heat stung my cheeks. They were all in variations of T-shirts and casual shorts. I should have asked for the dress code.

“Let’s take this to the gift table,” Hudson suggested. “We have a half hour before everyone gets here, Caroline?”

“Twenty-three minutes,” she replied, watching me like I was a venomous spider who’d crawled a little too close for comfort.

“Twenty-three minutes,” Hudson responded, taking the gift. Hand on my hip, he guided me out of the house and into a driveway that rather resembled a parking lot. “How’s Sadie?”

“She’s lovely even if she snores. I’m overdressed.” It would take too long to go home and get something more casual, but I didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb either.

“You look beautiful.” He sounded so sincere I almost believed him.

“You don’t have to do that.” I spoke only loud enough for him to hear. “Compliment me.”

“It’s just the truth, Alessandra.” His hand flexed on my hip.

“You don’t have to touch me right now either. No one can see us.” The gravel driveway crunched under my favorite pink Vans as we wove our way between cars on the way to the backyard.

“Does it bother you?” We slipped into the narrow path between the house and the garage.

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” It bothered me how much I liked it, considering it had been months since I’d felt anything close to desire. “Maybe we need ground rules.” I wasn’t going to survive if he was actually going to flirt with me.

“Okay. Set them.” His smile was hot enough to set an iceberg on fire.

“From what I remember, rule-following isn’t one of your strong suits.”

“Normally I’d argue that I’ve matured into an actual adult since the last time we spent any real time together, but since my commanding officer would agree with you, I’ll let it slide. Set your rules.” His smile faded as he stopped us halfway down the garage, and I glanced both ways to make sure no one was close enough to hear before I faced him. As a teenager, Hudson had always been dangerous when smiling, but giving me the intensity of his full attention? He was lethal as a fully grown man.

Rules. Right. Crap, now I had to think of them. “You can touch me in public for the purpose of authenticity, but that’s it.” I lifted my chin like I had a prayer of making up for our height difference.

“Noted.” His hand fell away, and I hated that I immediately missed it. “Next?”

My mind raced, searching for the holes in our plan. “You can’t actually date anyone while we’re doing this or it would ruin the whole thing.” Crap, was he dating someone? That girl at the bar? My instincts said no, that he never would have agreed to this if he was.

“Not a problem. I’m not seeing anyone, and even if I had been, it’s hard to focus on anyone else once you walk into a room,” he said, like it was a simple fact.

What the hell? My eyebrows rose.

“No saying things like that.” I stepped backward, bumping into the garage.

“You’d rather I lie?” The heat in his eyes made me swallow. Hard.

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

“Just to everyone else. Not each other. That’s my rule.” He leaned into my space but didn’t touch me. “Everything we say to each other has to be the truth.”

“Because you’re so very good at that?” Ah, there the anger was, and so much safer than the desire. I grabbed hold of it with both hands.

“Like you’re an open book?” He retreated with a heavy sigh. “I fucked up when I left without saying goodbye. I have regretted it every day of my life. That’s the truth. Can you accept that just enough to put it aside for the next few months?”

A little piece of that gaping wound yanked itself together as if his words were stitches. It was foolish to believe him, and yet I did. “I can.”

“You sure you’re up for playing this particular role? I know it’s tough, but our main goal today should be convincing them we’re together.” His eyes lit up like he was purposely poking me for a reaction.

Game on.

I scoffed. “Please. Once you master faking an orgasm, any role is easy. This is cake.”

His eyes bulged for a heartbeat before he schooled his expression. “Okay. Then let’s do this.”

I definitely won that point.

We walked into the backyard, and my jaw dropped.

The house backed up to Founder’s Park, and the entire two acres of space had been taken over for Juniper’s party. Little stations were set up around the perimeter, leading to the picnic tables that were covered in bright colors.

“It’s a little much, but we have a good time,” Hudson said, leading me into the park, which had been transformed into a carnival. “Juniper, Mason, and Melody—those are my cousin’s twins—are the only kids in the family, so we all get together for their birthdays. Juniper chose the carnival theme, so everyone brought something to add.”

We walked past a giant bounce house with an obstacle-course slide.

“Caroline’s responsible for that one, and you should have seen her panic when we thought the extension cord wasn’t going to reach.” A corner of his mouth tilted upward and he gestured to the station on the right. “Aunt Jo and Uncle Mark are running a balloon dart booth.” They both waved in between blowing up balloons. “And their teenagers are in charge of face painting.”

I gave the teens a wave as we passed by.

“Over there”—Hudson pointed to the stations lining the other side—“we have a three-legged-race track, Gavin’s bottle-toss station, and the Nerf-dart target—something which I’ve already been banned from playing because everyone knows I’ll smoke them.” He set Juniper’s gift next to a few others on one of the picnic tables as I tried to take it all in. “The twins are bringing out folding chairs for the middle. Something about musical chairs.”

“Your family just . . . does this?” My breath caught. Our family didn’t even do dinner.

“I mean, it’s no tea party at the Plaza—” He shaped the brim of his hat.

“It’s better.” I watched his family scurry about, setting up their stations.

“You’d better make sure you’re set,” Hudson’s dad lectured as he carried out a net-covered tray of food, passing by to get to the grill next to a table covered with dishes. While Gavin took after their mother, just like Caroline, Hudson was entirely his father. “If those kids get here and you’re not ready to go, Caroline will never let you hear the end of it.”

“Good point. You set on the grill?” Hudson’s hand skimmed my lower back, and the nerve endings fired, sending a shiver up my spine.

“You know it.” He lifted two silvery eyebrows at me and pointed to an empty camping chair beside the smoking grill. “If he gives you any trouble, you just come over and sit with me.”

“Yes, sir.” I couldn’t help but nod as Hudson led me away, to the unoccupied station a little way off from the picnic tables. The ground was covered in a thick foam mat in what looked to be a twelve-by-twelve square.

“I may have borrowed it from the gym at the station.” Hudson crouched next to an assortment of beige and brown . . . somethings.

“What is this?”

“We’re the T-Rex battle station.” He stood, dragging the head of a costume up so it unfolded in front of him.

“The T-Rex battle station?” I asked, certain I’d heard incorrectly. There were at least eight more on this side of the mat.

“I may have gone a little overboard, but I wanted to make sure we had one in every size.” He grinned, and the dimple popped in his cheek, completely eviscerating my train of thought. That dimple had always been my kryptonite. “This one is yours.”

I opened and shut my mouth a couple of times, searching for the correct response.

“You heard me,” Hudson whispered, his eyes sparkling like they used to when he’d talk me into doing something I wasn’t supposed to. “Let’s knock a few blocks out of those mile-thick walls you’ve got around you.”

“Is that your goal?” My eyebrows shot up.

“Absolutely.” He grinned. “I promised I wouldn’t lie to you. You’re not allergic to fun, Alessandra.”

I scoffed. “Good luck with that. And I’m not sure I trust your idea of fun, considering you jump out of helicopters, but kicking the shit out of you with impunity has some merit.” I tugged my lower lip between my teeth, because he was right, they looked . . . oddly fun. “Not worth explaining that I reinjured my ankle in a blow-up dinosaur, though.” Vasily would kill me.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised, his dimple deepening. “Come on, Rousseau. My girlfriend would put it on and kick the shit out of me. You know you want to.”

Strangely enough, I kind of did.

Five minutes later, I found myself ensconced by the scent of vinyl, looking out a clear square from inside a dinosaur costume as the fan puffed it out around me, elastic tight at my wrists and ankles to keep the air in. “This is ridiculous.” What the hell was I doing?

“And yet here we are.” Hudson circled me on the mat in his own costume, looking out of the window beneath the T-Rex’s mouth. “Make it good. I think Caroline is watching.”

“You can’t seriously expect me to charge at you.” I whipped around to follow him, the tail throwing me slightly off balance. My ankle wavered with a whisper of protest, but no pain.

“I have nothing against you losing.” He ran for me, and I sidestepped, but our costumes collided, bouncing us both sideways.

I scoffed, catching my balance, but Hudson was already on me, bouncing me backward. Damn, he was quick. I stumbled, and gravity claimed its prize as I fell. This is what I got for putting on a freaking blow-up costume like a ten-year-old.

The costume crinkled, and an arm wrapped around my back, tugging me into a spin so I fell forward—onto Hudson’s chest as he took the brunt of our impact. The air gushed out of our costumes faster than the fan could replenish it, and I felt another arm hooked under my right thigh, keeping my knee bent, my ankle safe.

“I win.” He grinned up at me.

“I’m on top.” I fumbled with my hands to get some form of leverage on him.

“I’d still call that a win for me.” His smile told me I might have met my match in the acting department.

“Fool around later, you two!” Hudson’s mom called out. “The kids are arriving!”

“She thinks we’re fooling around.” His eyes lit with pure mischief. “See? It’s working.”

I rolled my eyes and got the heck off him.

For the next hour and twenty minutes, I helped kids—and a couple of adults—in and out of the T-Rex costumes, watching in absolute fascination as they sent each other bouncing across the mat. I did my best to soak in the happiness of the people around me, and didn’t think of ballet once, not even for a second, until Hudson’s mother declared a break for lunch.

“I’ll get you a plate,” Hudson offered.

“You don’t have to.” I shook my head.

“Taking care of you is the least I can do in the circumstances, and it’s what my parents would expect. I’ll be right back.” He pointed to the only picnic table not entirely consumed with children, then waded into the melee surrounding the grill.

I stepped over the bench of the picnic table, taking a seat in the middle.

“Alessandra!” Juniper bounded over to me in a pair of hot-pink shorts and a rainbow tank top, with a turquoise-and-pink butterfly painted on her cheek and her hair woven into a french braid. “You came!”

“I promised you I would.” My lips quirked at the flush in her cheeks, the excitement in her eyes. She was the whole reason I was here, but I couldn’t act like it. “Happy birthday-party day.”

“Thanks!” She slid in next to me, putting down a soda and a paper plate loaded with barbecue and sweets in front of her. “I’m sitting with you.”

“You know my daughter?” Caroline sat down in front of me, quickly followed by Hudson’s mom on the left and, to my relief, Gavin on her right, each setting their lunch on the table.

“No need to take that tone,” Hudson’s mom rebuked over her glasses, but it lacked the cutting sting my own mother would have put into the words.

“I think I should know who my brother introduces my kid to,” Caroline argued as Hudson sat on my left and his dad took the last spot on our side.

“Hey, Caroline”—Hudson slid a plate my way—“when I keep an eye on Juniper on the weekends so you can work, sometimes we see my girlfriend. Now you know.” He took two bottles of water out of his pockets, putting one in front of me and taking the other for himself.

“Thank you.” I picked up the fork and knife he’d put on my plate next to a piece of grilled barbecue chicken, a large portion of salad, fresh vegetables with a little ranch, and a brownie. Another little section of that gaping wound inside my chest pulled tight and closed. He remembered far more than I would have expected him to.

“June-Bug, you sure you don’t want to sit with your friends?” Caroline offered in a tone that wasn’t suggestive.

“Nope. I’m good here.” Juniper flashed me a smile. “Mom, did you know that Alessandra is a famous dancer?”

Real subtle, Juniper. Guess it was time to hold up my end of the bargain. I cut into my chicken and waited for Caroline’s response.

“Is she?” Caroline jabbed a piece of potato salad with her fork, and I silently chewed my chicken.

“She’s like . . . world famous.” Juniper nodded and grasped her cheeseburger with both hands. “Some say she’ll be the next prima. There’s only a handful in the world, you know.” An impossible amount of that burger disappeared into her mouth.

“So, what is she doing in Haven Cove?” Caroline aimed that question at me. “Shouldn’t she be off in New York City, living the life of a world-famous ballerina?”

“I’m recovering from an injury.” I pushed my fork into my salad. “Snapped my Achilles tendon in a performance in January.”

Was it me, or did her posture soften just a little?

“So once you’re recovered, you’ll go back?” She shot a glance at Hudson.

“That’s the plan,” he answered, completely unbothered.

I shoved food in just so my mouth would be full if she asked another question. Anne would have been so much better at this. She always put people at ease.

Her eyes narrowed. “I still can’t believe you’re dating.” She waved her fork at us. “There’s something weird about it.”

“It’s only weird that she replaces him attractive,” Gavin teased.

“Please excuse our daughter.” Hudson’s mom shot Caroline a look that didn’t need translation. “The sun must have addled her manners.”

“How did you two meet?” Caroline pushed ahead, and Gavin watched as he ate like he was sitting front row at a show.

Shit. My stomach plunged.

“I rescued her,” Hudson answered between bites.

“Did you fall off daddy’s yacht?” Caroline lifted her brows at me.

“No.” I shrugged. “We actually keep that in the Med.”

Gavin choked and quickly took a sip of his soda.

Hudson bit back a grin. “She was out past the cove in a boat with a hole in it.”

When I was sixteen.

“Only because Eva was going to go by herself if I didn’t climb in, and she was my responsibility.” I shook my head at the memory.

“You won’t leave your sister and I won’t leave you.” I’d fully, instantly, trusted him with my life in that second.

“That’s your little sister, right?” Caroline asked. “The one who knocked over her entire milkshake in the café because she hadn’t liked how I made it? Then left me to clean it up while she and her little friends laughed their way back to your in-home studio?”

Yep, that sounded like Eva.

“Caroline,” Hudson snapped.

My fork hovered above the salad as heat stung my cheeks in a wave of simultaneous embarrassment and protective anger. “You have my apology,” I said slowly. “She was a difficult teenager.”

“But Alessandra’s really nice,” Juniper interjected. “Oh, there’s Maia! Be right back!” She hopped off the bench and ran to see her friend.

Traitor.

“What is it you like about my brother?” Caroline asked, studying my face.

Hudson tensed and I took a drink, wishing it was alcohol. “He’s decisive.”

“You like that he’s . . . decisive?” Her brow furrowed.

“Because I’m not,” I admitted. “It takes me a really long time to make decisions, usually, and then I second-guess them. It’s one of my worst qualities. But Hudson . . .” I looked his way and let myself remember him—really remember him beyond the haze of anger I’d kept him veiled behind. “He makes the choice, makes the save, has this aura of certainty that I’m not sure I ever will.”

He reached up and tucked my hair behind my ear.

“Still don’t buy it.” Caroline shook her head. “What’s her favorite color?”

“Blue.” Hudson’s hand fell away.

“What’s his birthday?” Caroline jabbed at her plate.

“April twenty-fifth,” I answered, my temper pricking. Knowing Caroline disliked our family was one thing, but swimming in her contempt was quite another. “Next?”

“Caroline, you’ll stop it this instant,” Mrs. Ellis chided.

“You expect me to accept this tourist into our family for the next few months until she tires of Hudson and dumps him?” Caroline countered. “What, is she coming camping with us too? Is she going to join the family trip and risk breaking a nail?”

“Invite accepted.” Hudson shrugged.

Wait. What?

“She won’t last the first night,” Caroline fired back.

Damn. I’d never been camping, but it certainly couldn’t be that torturous if people went willingly.

“Dial it back, Caroline,” Hudson warned. “Alessandra’s family doesn’t joke around like we do.”

“I’m not joking.” She lifted her brows.

“You want to help me out here?” Hudson asked Gavin.

“Nope.” He reached for what was left of his hot dog. “You’re holding your own better than I’d anticipated.”

“You’re acting like children,” Mr. Ellis chided, and the table fell silent as Juniper ran back over, sliding into her seat. “I’m going to finish up what’s left to grill. Juniper, are you ready to do cake and ice cream? I’ll get it all prepped if you are.”

“Yes, please.” Juniper nodded, and Mr. Ellis headed back to the grill. She turned to me excitedly. “My grandma made cupcakes, but my mom makes the best strawberry shortcake you’ve ever tasted. You have to try it.”

I winced. “Oh, I can’t—”

“Ballerinas don’t eat strawberry shortcake, honey,” Caroline said. “Or ice cream, or cupcakes, or anything that might put an extra ounce on their perfect little bodies.”

I sent up a silent prayer of forgiveness to Lina, because I was so fucking done.

“She doesn’t eat strawberry shortcake because she’s allergic to strawberries,” Hudson snapped. “Hence why I got her a brownie. She loves chocolate. And before you start in on any more of your bullshit, let’s just get this over with. Her birthday is March seventh. Her favorite movie is Titanic, which I’ve never really understood, but fine, I’ll sit through it again. She prefers Bloch over Capezio for pointe shoes. She’d rather watch sunsets than sunrises, can annoyingly taste the difference between different types of bottled water, and puts sugar in her coffee and milk in her tea. Oh, and she’s only indecisive because too many people tell her what they think she should want, and she likes to make everyone happy at her own expense. Is that enough for you, Caroline?”

I stared at him and struggled to replace a breath. He remembered all of that? Word by word, he’d somehow stitched the wound closed that his unexplained departure had left. Not healing it, not even scabbing it over, but stanching the blood loss.

“You could have made that all up.” Caroline shook her head. “And you’ve been together for what? Two, three weeks? No one knows all of that about someone else.”

My blood boiled.

“Stop it!” Juniper shouted, slamming her hands on the top of the picnic table. The drinks rattled. “Just stop it, Mom! They haven’t known each other for three weeks, they’ve known each other for years.” She reached into her back pocket and threw a picture on the table.

I gasped at the photo. We were outside the Haven Cove Classic the day I’d won. Hudson’s arm was around my shoulders while I cradled the beautiful bouquet of flowers he’d brought me. Our smiles were bright and happy, and we looked so full of hope that my heart hurt. Those two had no idea what was coming for them in just a few short hours.

“They were best friends, and he never brought her around because he knew that you’d be like this to her, and now you are. And you’re ruining my birthday!” She stormed off toward a group of her friends, and our table fell into awkward silence.

Caroline deflated as she stared at the picture. Then she glanced up at Hudson with wordless apology before taking off after Juniper.

“Parties are so much more entertaining when you’re around, Allie.” Gavin winked.

Hudson snatched the picture off the table and shoved it into his pocket. “Juniper went through a box of my things.”

“Alessandra, I’m so very sorry.” Hudson’s mom’s voice sounded far away as I focused on the way Caroline dropped to her knees in front of Juniper.

Juniper nodded a few times to whatever Caroline said, and then hugged her mom tightly. Holy shit, Juniper had a mother who apologized. What a novelty.

This was a fucking disaster. All of it. Caroline didn’t just hate my family, she hated me. She was going to make life miserable for as long as I pretended to date Hudson, and drag everyone else down with me. And what was worse was that she was right. There was something off about us.

All our little scheme had succeeded in doing today was upsetting Juniper, when our intention had been the opposite.

“I think I’m going to go.” I stood up from the table, taking my plate and water with me.

“Allie—Alessandra.” Hudson followed as I threw my trash away and thanked his father for cooking. “You don’t have to go.”

“I do.” I nodded, then took my keys out of my pocket and started walking across the park toward Caroline’s house.

“Don’t give up on her.” Hudson kept up with me.

“I’m not.” I paused just before the entrance to Caroline’s backyard. “But today isn’t the day to force my presence on Caroline. You saw what it just did to Juniper.”

“Hudson! It’s time to do the cake!” Caroline called out, and I looked back to see her standing in the middle of the park.

“You should go.” I forced a smile.

“Don’t do that fake-smile shit with me.” It was practically a growl.

“Go.” I let the smile fall, leaving my face blank. “This is apparently a marathon, not a sprint. When Juniper opens her present—it’s a jewelry box—do me a favor and don’t let Caroline throw it away just because it has a little ballerina inside of it. It was Lina’s.”

“Alessandra,” he whispered, and I stepped out of his reach, retreating as quickly as my feet would take me.

An hour later, Anne walked into the house and found me curled up on the couch with Sadie stretched out across my lap.

“How did it go?” She dropped her purse on the end table and sat down on my right.

“She’s kind of horrible.” I dragged my fingers through Sadie’s fur. “Caroline, not Juniper.”

“I’m sorry.” Anne’s face fell. “I shouldn’t have forced you. I wasn’t thinking, just reacting.” She stroked Sadie’s head. “What do you want to do? I’ll support whatever choice you make.”

“Today? Quit.” Every cell in my body felt drained, like the life had been sucked out of me. “Ask me tomorrow.” My phone buzzed on the coffee table, and Anne reached for it. “If it’s Kenna, hit Decline.”

“You can’t keep avoiding her.” She picked up the device and handed it to me.

“Watch me.” I took it, and my chest clenched at Hudson’s name above the text message.

Hudson: I know this is probably the last thing you want to hear, but my mom is inviting you to a family beach day to make up for today’s shit show.

I showed it to Anne, then let my head fall back against the couch. “Yes, please, sign me up as Caroline’s dartboard again.”

Anne sighed, leaning her shoulder against mine. “Are we wrong? Do you think Lina would want us to leave her alone?”

The thought cut into my heart like the tip of a dagger. “I’d give anything to be able to ask her.”

“Me too.” Anne kicked off her shoes and stretched her legs out, resting her feet on the coffee table. “Why didn’t she tell us? Before this, I would have sworn we didn’t have any secrets from each other.” She paused. “Should we tell Eva?”

“God no.” I shook my head. “Not yet. She’s not exactly known for her discretion.” Plus, if there was anyone Caroline loathed most in our family, it was Eva.

“Good point.” She scratched Sadie behind the ear, and I stared at the text from Hudson, debating exactly how much torture I could take. “Who else knows? Lina had to have told someone, don’t you think? Juniper’s father?”

Juniper would want me to go to the beach. Hell, she was counting on me.

“No clue,” I said quietly, grasping my phone with both hands. “All I know for certain is Lina loved to dance, and if her daughter wants to dance, then we owe it to her to help, even if it means I have to wear Kevlar over my swimsuit.”

Allie: I’ll be there.