Brenda Novak - Until You Loved Me

Fortunately, the doctors had adjusted Aaron’s treatment. The new chemicals weren’t as hard on his system, so he seemed okay for the time being. The more stable Aaron became, the better Hudson felt, and that seemed to be reflected in his game. Since Miami, the Devils hadn’t lost. Hudson couldn’t take all the credit. Some of his teammates had really stepped up—his front line in particular. They hadn’t allowed more than a handful of sacks in the past six weeks. But he was having a good personal season, too, and felt they might have another shot at the Super Bowl.

“So this is the new abode?”

Hudson had just let Bruiser in through the front door of his home in Silver Springs. Like Hudson and the rest of the team, for the most part Bruiser lived in LA, and he had a wife and two-year-old kid. But his wife had taken their little girl to visit her mother in New York and was gone for a few days, so Bruiser had accompanied Hudson from LA. Bruiser had expressed an interest in getting involved in the type of mentoring Hudson was doing at New Horizons, so first thing Monday morning, Hudson was taking him over to the school. They’d be addressing the student body and encouraging the boys to put in the work necessary to fulfill their dreams. He and Bruiser were even planning to show up at football practice later in the day and help the coaches by running a few drills.

“Not bad, huh?” Hudson said as he tossed his keys on the granite counter.

Bruiser frowned as he took in the wooden floors, the high ceilings, the wainscoting and the ceiling fan in the expansive living room of the ranch house. Hudson hadn’t bought the most expensive property in the area, but homes in the Ojai Valley weren’t cheap, especially when they sat on chunks of land the size of this one. He needed the space to protect his privacy. He’d spent nearly $9.5 million for this fifteen-acre, 10,663 square-foot, four-bedroom, five-bath home with its accompanying view of the surrounding Topatopa Mountains.

“You could afford a lot better,” Bruiser teased.

Hudson winked. “I love it here. You will, too. That’s why I’ve asked the real estate agent who sold me this to show you some properties while you’re in town.”

Bruiser put down his duffel bag. “You went to the trouble, did you?”

Hudson slapped his broad back. “I did, brother. We’re meeting her tomorrow.”

Bruiser fingered the Fu Manchu mustache he’d grown this season; he’d said he wouldn’t shave it off until they won the Super Bowl. “Not sure my wife’s gonna be willing to move out here. I told you that.”

“We’ll see,” he responded as if he wasn’t worried in the least.

His friend’s eyebrows rose. “You think you can convince her?”

“I do. Jacqueline’s a real softy. Once she meets some of the boys and realizes what a difference you could make in their lives, she’ll be all for spending the off-season here, at least for the next couple of years, until you have another baby or Brianne starts school.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged, relenting as easily as ever. Hudson had never met a nicer guy—not that he’d ever want to take Bruiser on when Bruiser was mad. Hudson had seen his friend pushed to that point only once, when a player from the opposing team nearly broke Hudson’s leg with a late hit. Bruiser went after the dude, and it was all the refs could do to pull him off. From that day forward, everyone in the NFL knew that no one messed with Hudson if Bruiser was around to guard him. Hudson was Bruiser’s quarterback, the man he defended, and he took that seriously. That was part of the reason they were doing so well this season. Hudson had been safe in the pocket, and that had resulted in a high percentage of completions.

“So...you got a beer?” Bruiser asked.

Maggie, the housekeeper Hudson had hired when he bought the house, kept the place clean and well-stocked. She lived in the guesthouse at the back corner of the property and made sure the gardeners did their job and the house was ready whenever Hudson decided to come home. Once he arrived, she stayed in her own place unless he was there for an extended visit and needed help with meals or laundry. He paid her a monthly salary whether she did much work at the main house or not, so she didn’t mind that he preferred his privacy to having her wait on him. “I’ve got a fridge filled with Bud Light, Heineken, Sam Adams, you name it,” he said. “Want to play a game of pool after we grab a cold one?”

“Only if you’re ready to get your ass kicked.”

Hudson grinned. He and Bruiser had never played before. Bruiser hadn’t been on the team that long. They’d just grown close very quickly. And Hudson didn’t have a table at his LA house. “Any chance you’d be willing to put your money where your mouth is?”

He could see Bruiser contemplating the possibilities. “Come on,” Hudson said. “You’re a betting man.”

“Yeah, but I’d never bet against you,” Bruiser finally grumbled, his expression leery.

“Too bad. I suck at pool,” Hudson said and proved it by losing twice in a row.

“Shit,” Bruiser drawled. “I should’ve taken that bet. I could be fleecing you right now.”

Hudson rested his pool cue on the ground. “I’ll give you another chance. We could play a third game. Put a thousand bucks on it.”

Bruiser seemed tempted, then narrowed his eyes. “You think you’re clever, don’t you? Forget it. You’re not sharking me.”

Once Hudson started laughing, he almost couldn’t stop—especially when Bruiser beat him a third time. “You weren’t sharking me,” his friend complained. “You do suck at pool. You’re just damn good at mind games!”

Hudson cocked his head. “We could bet on a fourth match...”

“You little shit!” Although it took some effort, and they were both breathing heavily from the exertion of wrestling by the time it was over, Bruiser eventually managed to heft Hudson over one massive shoulder and carry him through the open doors of the game room to the patio beyond, where he proceeded to throw him in the pool.

“You were only able to do that because I let you,” Hudson called out, laughing and wiping the water from his face as he surfaced.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m getting another beer.” With a careless gesture, Bruiser went back inside. But he returned with a towel as well as two beers and sat on a nearby chair while Hudson dried off.

“It’s nice out here,” Bruiser said, gazing at the gold and lavender hues of the fading sun. “I could get used to this.”

“Quiet, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Glad we have a bye this week. I like getting away from the city, especially midseason, when we’re so busy. Sometimes, with all the traffic and the noise—everyone blathering on about their opinions, the phone ringing and the TV rattling the walls—it feels as if I can’t hear myself think. But this...this is almost as though we put LA on pause.”

Hudson dropped onto a lounge chair not far away. With an average high of eighty degrees in October, the weather was fairly mild in Silver Springs. But the temperature was dropping as night came on, and he was wet. Trying to conserve his body heat, he rubbed his head vigorously to dry his hair. He didn’t want to catch a cold, but he also didn’t want to go in. He, too, was enjoying sitting outdoors and watching the sunset. “You’re not getting tired of the game, are you?” he asked.

“I could never get tired of the game,” Bruiser replied. “But all the stuff that goes with it? Yeah. And I don’t have to do half the shit you do. Don’t know how you keep your sanity.”

After wrapping the towel around his shoulders, Hudson popped the top off the beer Bruiser had brought out for him. “Other than New Horizons, work’s all I’ve got. I prefer to stay busy.”