“Grace,” he says softly. “Open your eyes.”
I don’t want to do it. I don’t even know why, except that I really, really don’t want to.
But at the same time, it’s sort of a compulsion. The kind that I know is going to hurt later—like when I chipped my tooth in seventh grade and couldn’t resist touching it with my tongue, even though I knew it was so sharp, it would cut me. That’s what it feels like listening to Hudson tell me to open my eyes.
“Wow, so I’m a toothache now?” He sounds insulted. “Thaaaaanks.”
“If you were a toothache, I’d go to the dentist and let her drill you out of my head,” I tell him, my voice filled with the frustration I can’t get away from. “Without novocaine.”
“You’ve got quite the mean streak in you, Grace. Does it make me a masochist if I admit that I like it?”
Ugh. Seriously? I can stand the voice in my head. I can maybe even put up with the fact that that voice belongs to Hudson. But the sexual innuendo is going to make me vomit.
I finally stop fighting myself and decide to open my eyes if it means it will shut him up, even for a second. Then really wish I hadn’t because—
Holy hell. He’s right there, one wide shoulder resting against the icy wall near a lamp, long legs crossed at the ankle, obnoxious smirk on his ridiculously pretty face. He’s got the signature Vega high cheekbones and strong jawline, but that’s where the similarity to Jaxon ends. For where Jaxon’s eyes may be as black as a starless night, Hudson’s are an endless blue sky. Thick eyebrows, the same shade of rich dark brown as his short hair, slant downward, his gorgeous eyes narrowing as he takes in every detail of my reaction. And that’s when I realize, Jaxon might ooze power and danger in his every movement, but Hudson has always been the real one to fear. Jaxon was a blunt weapon next to his brother, who seems to be cataloging my every weakness, every nuance and emotion, with surgical precision. This guy would know exactly how to hurt you the most—and you’d never see it coming.
Nothing in the world could have stopped the shiver that slides down my spine.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he turned around and there was a sign plastered across the back of his silver-gray dress shirt spelling out villain in huge black letters.
That’s how perfect he is at looking bad. At being bad. And that’s before I even notice that his free hand is shoved negligently into the pocket of a pair of expensive-looking black dress pants.
Because of course it is. Looks like the devil really does wear Gucci…
“These are Versace,” he answers, indignation ripe in his tone.
“Who cares?” I demand as my brain finally catches up with my observational skills. “Have you been standing there all along?”
“Yes, Grace, I’ve been here all along,” he tells me with a long-suffering sigh. “No offense, but where else would I be? We’re kind of attached, in case you didn’t notice.”
“Believe me, I’ve noticed.”
“Then why ask a silly question?”
I roll my eyes at him. “I’m so sorry. I’ll stop asking silly questions if you stop—oh, I don’t know—hijacking my body to try to kill people.”
“I already told you, it was just supposed to be a little prick. It is not my fault werewolves have such abysmal tempers.” He lifts one dark, perfect brow. “But I’ve got to say, you are a feisty one. Do you really think Jaxon can handle you?”
“It’s none of your business what Jaxon can and can’t handle.”
“So that’s a solid no, then?” This time, he flashes a sly little smile that should be obnoxious but somehow only ends up making his already perfect face look even more perfect.
“Aww, you think I have a perfect face?” He turns his head to the side to emphasize his sky-high cheekbones and chiseled jaw. “What’s your favorite feature?”
“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
“I’m in your head, Grace. I hear everything.”
“But I see you over there, and your lips are moving.” All of a sudden, his words register. “Everything?”
He holds up one finger. “First, only you can see me. Your mind is manifesting me. And two…” His smile gets even slyer. “Everything.”
I duck my head so he can’t see the heat scorching my cheeks. “I have no idea how to respond to that.”
“No worries.” Hudson winks at me. “I’m used to girls being speechless around me.”