“Not one I’ve ever shared with him, or anyone else for thatmatter.”
“Humour me,” he says. I see the challenge in his eyes. I know he has a smart remark just waiting to be released. If he thinks I don’t know that, he’s sorely mistaken. I’ve got a few things I’d like to saymyself.
“Man-mountain.”
“Man-mountain? You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” hemocks.
“No, I’m not. He’s well-stacked and I quite enjoy climbing him,” I say with a straight face. “At least there’s no danger I’ll knock myself out and lose my memories with him, though on most occasions I do end up seeingstars.”
Max snorts, covering his amusement with acough.
“Is that so?” Hudson says, narrowing his eyes atme.
I laugh internally. Hudson may not know me, but I know him very well. In Alpe D’Huez I had started off as a challenge for him. He has pride, and the need to be wanted is still there. It may be an unfair fight, but I’m willing to use all the tools in my arsenal to get him to remember, to get himback.
“What does Bryce call you?” he asks after a moment. Not so interested in getting rid of me now, it wouldseem.
“Sweetheart,mainly.”
Hudson looks over my shoulder at Max incredulously, then returns his gaze to me. “That doesn’t sound like Bryce. He doesn’t call anyone sweetheart. Although, perhaps that’s an endearment he saves for when he’sfucking.”
“Hudson,” Max warns. “Don’t be aprick.”
Hudson ignores Max and in turn I ignore Hudson’s shitty remark. Talk about personalitylobotomy.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Do you have one forme?”
“Actually, I don’t. At least, not yet anyway. I’ve only ever called you Hudson. Perhaps that needs to change? I must admit arsehole is beginning to suit you,” I say, swiping a strand of hair away from my face. His eyes narrow, but he doesn’tbite.
“I’ve been called a lot worse,” hesays.
“Don’t you want to know what your nickname is for me?” I askhim.
“I don’t do nicknames or terms ofendearment.”
“You sure about that?” I say, looking at him boldly. He’s not getting out of this unscathed. Tonight, I start as I mean to go on. He waits. “Butterfly…” I say, watching for any kind of reaction that might indicate recognition of somekind.
“Butterfly?” He frowns. Max has gone very quiet. Even the sea seems to have stilled. We wait, but nothing. So, I go in for the kill. Hewillremember, damnit.
“Yes, because of the way I make you feel in here…” I say quietly, pressing my palm against his chest. He stiffens under my touch, but I don’t remove my hand or look away. He studies me, a whole host of emotions passing over his face. None of them are the ones I want tosee.
“You may have lost your memories, Hudson, you may have forgotten me, but know this, I am still in here,” I say, pressing my hand more firmly against him. “And I’m not about to give up on us. I amstillyour butterfly and I’m staying right in there, whether you like it ornot.”
He looks at me in shock as I remove my hand and walk across the sand back to thebungalow.
“What the…” Hudsonstarts.
I hear Max chuckle behind me. “You’ve bitten off more than you can chew with Louisa. She’s quite thewoman.”
I smile inwardly. Round one tome.