“Come on, Maddie . . . Ditch your class tonight. Grab a drink with me.”
I look up from the floor, stretched out on my mat at the MMA gym where I teach yoga three nights a week, and smile at Hudson Kingston. The reigning world light heavyweight champion is the biggest flirt I’ve ever met, and he knows it. For the past two years, he’s asked me out at least once a week. Of course, that number varies, depending on how many times he finds me stretched out on a mat.
Let’s just say I’ve heard a lot of bad Downward Dog jokes since I started teaching here.
And since our mutual friends got married and moved in next to him, he’s also managed to become a friend of mine too. But deep down, he’ll always be a flirt at heart and refuses to let me forget it.
“You’re in training, King. No alcohol for you.” I stretch my legs out in a V and lay my chest flat against the mat, then raise my eyes to the man standing in front of my toes.
A slow, sexy grin extends across his chiseled face, and warmth spreads through me. “Oh, I can think of a few other things we could do.”
My friend’s husband, Cooper, smacks the back of Hudson’s gorgeous blond head.
Why do the gorgeous ones always have to be so cocky?
Because this man . . . this man is beyond gorgeous. He’s six feet, five inches of rock-solid, golden muscles and beautiful black ink that’s on display every single time he trains. They’ve just finished for the night, so he’s changed into gray sweatpants and a dark-green Crucible hoodie that look almost as good on him as the low-slung shorts and bare chest do when he trains. But . . . but, but, but . . .
A deep chuckle rumbles from Cooper’s chest. “You wouldn’t even know what to do with a woman like Maddie, asshole. Can your dates even spell their own names?”
Hudson shoulders his gym bag and smiles his megawatt smile. Perfectly straight, white teeth that probably cost his parents a small fortune. “I don’t give them an IQ test, Sinclair.”
And there it is . . . there’s the but.
Hudson Kingston is also a manwhore.
I have no doubt he could make my body sing. But as much as I’d give anything to let this man take the v-card I’d love to ditch if I could, I also have absolutely no doubt I’d get my heart crushed in the process. Which leaves me to settle for friendship with a side of the fun banter we’ve got going on instead. “You couldn’t handle me, King.”
This man was dubbed Hudson “The King” Kingston by the fighting world years ago.
On someone else, it might seem like an arrogant or self-indulgent name.
But it fits him like a golden glove.
“One night with me, and I bet I could have you loving how I handle all sorts of things, sunshine.”
Our eyes lock for a single charged moment, but it’s broken when the chimes above the gym door ring, and my students start shuffling in. Saved by the bells. I stand to greet a few of the girls from the local university and overhear Cooper telling Hud to get better lines.
But maybe he should just try using them on someone who’s not broken.
“Thanks for coming.” I hold the front door open as my students spill out into the parking lot. I honestly don’t need to teach yoga anymore. I do it because I love it. And maybe because I’ll always be a little paranoid about not having enough money in my savings account. My social-media management business has taken off over the past few years, but I still haven’t entertained the idea of giving up teaching at Crucible . . . yet.
Waiting for everyone to filter through the door, I wave. “See you again next week.”
Once the doors click shut, I lock them, then lean my head back against the glass and close my eyes for a hot minute. My soothing playlist for my favorite yoga class shuts off abruptly, and the gym’s manager, Imogen, pops her head up from behind the front desk.
“Mads, can you close up tonight? I promised the band we could run through our new set, and I’m already late.” She throws her crossbody bag on and grabs her keys from the desk. “Please, please, please,” she pleads, and I shake my head no.
Sensing she’s losing me, she adds, “I’ll clean the mats for you for a week.”
“Sold.” I hold out my hand. “You should have started with that offer.” I hate cleaning the mats after class, and a week of not doing them sounds pretty good.
Imogen passes me the spray cleaner and spins her keys. “Thanks, Mads. I owe you one.”
“Nope. You owe me a week.” I take the bottle and singsong my response. “Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Imogen moves toward the door before swinging her red hair back around. “We’re all doing things you wouldn’t do, Mads. One of these days, you’re gonna see what you’re missing out on,” she says on a laugh just before she disappears through the front doors.
My friends love to tease me about my lack of a love life. Like I’m single by my own choosing. Dating sucks in general. And when your brother is a pro football player who’s more protective of you than anything in the world, it can get kinda . . . sticky. That, compounded with my own personal demons, and it’s just not worth it sometimes. I go through phases where I try to put myself out there, but most of the time, I’d rather just be surrounded by my friends.
Life is easier that way. Less complicated.
A noise from the back of the building stops me as I spray down the mats. “Hello . . . ?” I call out, wondering if someone may still be in the bathroom.
Although, my students were all accounted for.
The gym should be empty.
Maybe something fell over.
An uneasy feeling washes over me as I look around the empty gym, then jump when the chimes over the front door sound.
It swings open a moment later, and Hudson walks through. “Mads . . . you still here? I forgot my phone.” He scans the room, looking for me.
I raise my shaking hand to cover my pounding heart. “Oh my goodness, Hudson. You scared the heck out of me.”
“Maddie,” he hollers, his eyes growing wide as he spots me across the gym. Then he roars, “Move!”
I’m not sure what scares me more . . . the way his voice booms through the entire building or the look on his face as he charges me.
Instinctively, I move toward him. “Hudson—”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement behind me a split second too late.
Like the world has switched into slow motion and quicksand is holding my limbs hostage, I try to move, but fear freezes me in place.
Until Hudson knocks me out of the way with a rough shove backward.
I fall to the floor while my scream reverberates from the rafters.
There’s a man in a black ski mask running from Hudson.
Oh my God.
Hudson catches up to the attacker easily.
The guy grabs a kettle bell and throws it behind him.
My scream gets caught in my throat when I watch Hudson jump over the black kettle bell. It’s like a horror movie happening right in from of me, as Hud comes down and slips on the mat I’d just washed, landing on his knees.
The guy in the mask takes advantage of Hudson’s misstep and moves like lightning through the hall and out the back door.
With my heart racing, I scramble to my feet and fly to Hudson’s side.
Kneeling next to him, it’s impossible to miss the pain etched on his face. “Oh my God. Are you okay?”
He reaches around me and cups the back of my head. “I’m fine, Mads.” His eyes frantically search mine, and I think I’m seeing this tough MMA fighter petrified for the first time in the three years I’ve known him. “Are you okay?”
I nod, but the adrenaline begins to wane, and the world starts to spin.
I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around what almost just happened.
Once he’s satisfied I’m okay, he clenches his jaw. “Call the cops, Mads. Tell them to meet us at the hospital.” He closes his eyes and tilts his head up to the ceiling. “I think I busted my knee.”
With trembling hands, I make the call.
“How fucking long does it take to get the results of an MRI?” Hudson’s older sister, Scarlet Kingston-St. James, hasn’t stopped yelling since she and her husband, Cade, stepped into the private room Hudson was given as soon as we arrived at the hospital. Apparently, when a wing of the hospital is named after your family, they don’t make you wait in the emergency room like everyone else.
Cade wraps his arm around Scarlet, attempting to soothe his wife, but by the looks of it, he’s just fueling the fire. “He’s going to be okay, duchess. They’re both okay. It could have been worse.”
Cade would know. He owns Crucible, and he’s Hudson’s coach.
My life has been intertwined with the Kingstons for years.
Despite that, I’m curled up on the chair next to the bed, feeling like an intruder.
There’s nine of them, and they’re the biggest, loudest family I’ve ever met.
It’s all sorts of intimidating when you see it up close, even if it’s the family dynamic I’d always wished for growing up. My brother, Brandon, is my only family. He and I grew up bouncing from one foster home to another. We’ve only ever had each other to depend on. So being around this crazy family has always been overwhelming.
Brandon plays professional football for the Philadelphia Kings—one of the teams the Kingston family owns—and I run the social-media accounts for a few of the Kings players, as well as the official account for the Philadelphia Revolution, the pro hockey team they bought a few years ago.
And I teach yoga at Crucible. At least I used to.
Please God, don’t let him fire me for this.
But even as interconnected as we all are, I’m not part of this family. They’re a tight-knit circle that I’m outside the periphery of. Watching but not part of. We share friends, and I’ve been to their weddings and championship games, but I’ve never felt like I belonged.
And I can’t help but feel like I shouldn’t be here for this.
While Cade and Scarlet continue their argument, which feels more like foreplay than him actually trying to calm her down, my eyes scan up Hudson’s legs. They cut his sweatpants off at the knee, and he’s been icing it on and off since we got here.
He reaches over with his big palm and squeezes my hand, sending a shiver dancing down my spine. “Hey, you doing okay?”
This man does not touch me . . . ever.
He flirts.
A lot.
But he never touches, and that’s a good thing because I don’t really like to be touched. And if this is what it feels like, I definitely need us to stay in a touch-free zone. Because for a hot minute, I consider what it would be like to crawl into that bed next to him and feel his arms wrap around me. And that’s not something I do . . . ever.
“Mads,” he prods.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I’m good. I’m just so sorry you got hurt. I swear I counted my students as they left, and the building should have been empty.”
Scarlet spins around on her red-soled high heels. “Don’t you dare apologize, Madison Dixon. This is not your fault.” She looks at her phone for the millionth time tonight, probably checking to see if the news has gotten hold of the story yet. “Have you called your brother?”
Scarlet Kingston-St. James is a force of nature, and she’s a hella scary one too. She runs the Philadelphia Kings, so she’s Brandon’s boss. Of course, this means she knows he treats me like a breakable piece of glass instead of a grown woman who owns a successful business and is capable of running her own life.
“Scarlet, back off.” Hudson glares at his sister. “We’re okay. You can reel in the momma-bear routine a bit, okay?”
She ignores him, keeping her sights set on me. “Madison, he’d want to know what happened.”
“He’d want to fly home from London,” I push back. The team just left for their first international game, and he’s not due back for a few days.
Scarlet hands me her phone. “Call him. Tell him what happened, and do not let him fly home.” This woman is used to getting her way. And normally, I’d envy her confidence and determination, but right now, I don’t have the energy. I pull my phone from the pocket of my yoga pants and stand from the chair.
When I turn my head, I plaster a forced smile Hudson’s way. “Want me to get you anything from the vending machine?”
Cade glares at me. “He’s got two weeks left before his fight. No junk food, Mads.”
“Sorry.” I shrug my shoulders as Hudson drops his head back against the pillow. “I tried.”
Just as I push through the door, Hudson calls out my name. “Mads . . .”
There’s frustration lining his beautiful cobalt eyes when I turn around.
“Don’t go far, okay?”
With a nod of my head, I step just outside the door and realize it wasn’t frustration I was seeing in his eyes.
It was fear.
Hudson
“You’ve got to postpone the fight.” Scarlet folds her arms across her chest and looks between Cade and me, like her word is gospel—written on a stone tablet.
I’ve been sitting in this goddamned bed for three fucking hours, and now, she’s going to try lecturing me? I don’t think so. I love my sister, but I’m pretty sure I earned a pass tonight. Let her husband deal with her.
Cade looks from the doctor to his wife, never even glancing my way. “He’s hyperextended his MCL. It’s not torn. He doesn’t need surgery. He’s a professional. We’ll give him a few days’ rest and have him training next week.” The fucker finally looks at me with a cocky smile that’s covering his concern. “Can you stay off your leg for a few days, King?”
“If it means I walk into that cage next week, you bet your fucking ass I can.”
“I’ll get the nurses to bring your release papers, Mr. Kingston.” The doc heads out of the room, and my stomach drops. At least, this is manageable. It could have been worse. It could have been a torn MCL or ACL, then it would have required surgery. Game over for months.
Scarlet moves next to the bed I’m still stuck in. “You’re not going to let me talk you out of this, are you, Hudson?”
“Why ask the question when you already know the answer, Scarlet?” I crack my neck as the tension in the room grows. “I’ll be fine.”
“Sure you will.” My sister tends to think she knows best. Especially when it comes to our family. She’s not the oldest. That prize goes to Max. But in our family of nine, she’s the oldest girl and has always been insanely protective of all of us. I’m used to that. What I’m not used to is the uneasy look in her eye as she glances Maddie’s way again.
“Madison, did you speak with your brother?” Scarlet asks.
“He didn’t answer, and I didn’t think this was something I should leave in a text. He’d freak out.” Maddie bites down on her bottom lip, probably uncomfortable having this conversation with Scarlet, and I have to shift on this stupid, fucking bed, so she doesn’t see the insane reaction my body has every single time her teeth sink into her pouty pink lips.
Madison Dixon isn’t the kind of girl you take out for a night, knowing it’s only one night.
Everything about her screams she’s more than that.
She’s pure. She’s sunshine.
Teasing her is fun. We flirt. We laugh.
But it never goes anywhere, even if my dick seriously wishes it would. I wouldn’t have a clue how to give her what she needs. What she deserves. So, with a pain shooting through my knee, I shift anyway, needing to hide the semi I got from one look her way.
“I can’t believe I’m going to suggest this,” Cade groans and runs his palm down his face. “Mads, any chance you can stay with Hud for a few days? I know you work your social-media stuff from home, and I really don’t trust the dipshit to stay in bed to rest that leg. Plus, I’m pretty sure your brother wouldn’t want you staying at your house alone after what happened tonight.”
Her head snaps up, and bright blue eyes practically glow with fire. “Seriously, Cade? Are you trying to say Hudson needs a babysitter? Or that I do?”
“Ohh . . . that’s perfect. Does Daphne have a key to your house, Madison? I’ll ask her to pack you some clothes and drop them off at Hudson’s.” Scarlet whips out her phone again, and I think Maddie might actually cry.
“Scarlet,” I cut her off before she can steamroll Maddie. But apparently, my little ball of sunshine has a stronger backbone than I realized.
She doesn’t stand or raise her voice. There’re no arms crossing over her chest or stomping of her feet, something I’ve watched my sisters and best friend do over the years. She just holds Scarlet’s stare, never looking away. “I can pack my own clothes, if I need them. But I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”
“Scar, can you give us a minute?” I ask.
My sister opens her mouth, but Cade interrupts her with an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, duchess. Let’s go check on the kids.” He guides her out of the room, giving me space to breathe for the first time all fucking night.
“You doing okay, Mads?” She’s sitting in the same damn chair she’s been in for hours. Her legs are tucked underneath her, and not an ounce of makeup is on her pretty face. Her long blonde hair is tucked behind her ear, emphasizing the fiery flush in her cheeks. She really is a ray of fucking sunshine. Always happy. Never curses. Sweet as can be. And she just stood up to Scarlet. I’ve seen grown men cower in front of my sister. I definitely wouldn’t have thought Maddie had it in her.
“I really hate that the whole world knows my brother treats me like a baby and feels like they need to do the same if he’s not around. I’m twenty-four, Hudson, and your sister just talked to me like a teenager who needs to be told what she’s doing until her daddy comes home.”
“Maddie . . . First of all, if you’ve got a daddy kink, I’ll be your daddy all day, every day.”
She rolls her lips together, trying to hold back her smile, but eventually gives in to the urge. Her laughter breaks through the heavy weight of the room. “You’re a moron. You know that, right?”
“I do. But Scarlet’s not wrong. I’ll need help for a few days. And maybe you shouldn’t be alone until we know who broke into the gym tonight. He wasn’t going for the cash box, Mads. He was behind you. It might be a win-win if you stay with me for a few days. You know . . . you scratch my back, I wash yours.” Her smile is infectious when both dimples pop deeply in her cheeks, and something expands in my chest, knowing I made that happen.
Men have killed for lesser things.
“Come on, Maddie. You know you wanna.”
“My goodness, Hudson. Did you take a class on awful lines or something? That was really bad.” She rubs her hands over her bare arms, drawing my attention to the goosebumps covering her creamy skin.
I hadn’t thought about the way we rushed out of the gym. It’s freezing outside and only a few degrees warmer in this hospital room. Maddie’s in a tank top and skintight yoga pants that stop just under her knees.
This woman gets cold in the heat of the summer.
I throw my hoodie her way. “Put that on.”
“Excuse me?” she snaps.
“You’re shivering.” I watch as she shakes her head, mumbling something about men, but she does as she’s told and throws my hoodie over her head. And it swallows her whole.
“Better?” she asks. I nod and ignore how much I don’t hate seeing her in my clothes. “Do you even want me to stay with you?”
“Will you wear one of those little candy-striper uniforms?”
Scarlet picks that moment to walk back into the room. “She’s not a stripper, dipshit.”
“And you’re two weeks out from the fight of your life,” Cade chimes in. “No girls. No drama. No booze. The rules don’t lessen because you’re hurt, dumbass. They get stricter, and you know it. So, show me you can stay off the leg. If I don’t think you can fight for even one second, I’m calling it off.”
Maddie shakes her head like she can’t believe what she’s about to say, but her eyes stay locked on mine. “Fine. I’ll stay with you and make sure you stay off your leg. But I’m doing it on one condition.” She turns to my sister. “I do not want Brandon knowing what happened tonight until the team gets home Monday morning. I want him focused on the game, not arguing with me. You need your center focused.”
Scarlet smiles a predatory smile. “Done.”
“Three days, King. I don’t want to see you at Crucible until Monday. You can work your arms at home. But don’t even think about doing anything with your legs until Monday.” Cade stares hard at me, waiting for my agreement, but I look over at Maddie instead.
“You sure, Mads?” The words trigger the internal battle I’ve had with myself for years. Maddie Dixon is my friend. And while it’s been a bit of a struggle keeping her in that box, I’ve always done it because we’re better off that way. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want more.
She’s the only woman who’s ever tempted me to want more.
To think about what that would look like.
To consider whether I’m capable of giving it to anyone.
The only woman.
Her being so damn close is going to complicate things. But the idea of her going home alone after that guy was so close to her tonight—what could have happened if I hadn’t realized I left my phone at the gym . . . Yeah, she’s not sleeping alone at her house tonight.
“It’s fine. But the first time you put Stepbrothers on, I’m leaving.” Her entire face brightens while everyone in the room laughs.
“It’s a classic, Mads.” I hold back my smile. “What do you have against laughing?”
“It’s a dumb movie, Hud.” She lifts her chin, doubling down on my favorite movie. “It’s either me or Stepbrothers.”
Like there’s any fucking chance I wouldn’t choose her.
