Free Web NovelChapter 180: Chapter 180 Bed Invader
Christina’s POV
Thirty minutes had passed.
My toes were numb.
My nose was running like a faucet.
I felt like a dead fish in a meat locker.
I threw off the blankets and stomped out of the room.
"Geoffrey!"
He appeared out of thin air. "Yes, Luna Christina?"
"I’m sleeping in Hudson’s room. I refuse to freeze to death in here." freewebnøvel.com
"Of course, Luna Christina. Alpha Hudson’s bedding was refreshed this morning. Please, make yourself at home."
"Fine."
Standing outside his bedroom door, I sent him a quick text.
Can I use your room tonight? Mine is an icebox. I think the walls are leaking.
His response came almost instantly.
Of course. It’s our house. Yours and mine. Sleep wherever you want.
I typed "thank you" then deleted it.
He hated when I thanked him.
Instead, I sent a meme of Grumpy Cat giving a thumbs up.
The moment I stepped inside, a wave of warmth washed over me.
The air smelled like crisp pine and fresh linen.
It felt like walking straight from winter into July.
I kicked off my slippers and looked around.
The entire room was monochrome, just black, white, and gray.
Nothing hung on the walls. No clutter, no mess.
Clean lines everywhere. No personal items visible.
It was like an executive suite disguised as a bedroom.
Geoffrey hadn’t lied. This room was definitely built differently.
The en-suite bathroom was equally sparse.
Black tiles, dark countertops, and a glass shower that looked pristine.
I turned on the lights and squinted at the glare.
I quickly scrubbed my face and changed into my pajamas before heading out.
I flopped onto his bed and rolled around.
"Goddess, this is so much softer than mine."
The bed was enormous.
I flailed like an idiot and still couldn’t reach the edges.
The room was pitch black. No street noise, no light filtering through the blackout curtains.
The air was still, but cozy.
I thought I’d be too wired to sleep in someone else’s bed.
I was wrong.
The moment my head hit the pillow, I was out cold.
I slept deeper than I had in weeks.
When I opened my eyes, it was almost nine.
I padded downstairs barefoot, chewing on a piece of toast, and nearly collided with two workers carrying metal toolboxes.
The whine of a power drill came from somewhere in the house.
Exposed wiring hung from the ceiling.
Someone was shouting for a wrench from the boiler room.
I found Geoffrey by the stairs.
"Do you think they’ll fix it today?"
"Hard to say. This house doesn’t have standard plumbing. Every pipe is custom. When one goes, it’s a nightmare. No guarantees."
With my mouth full of crumbs, I mumbled, "Fantastic."
That night, Geoffrey broke the news that the heating in my room still wasn’t fixed.
So I went straight back to Hudson’s room.
For each day after, it was the same routine.
I’d ask if the problem had been resolved.
Geoffrey would frown and mutter about structural complexities.
I’d nod, thank the workers, and climb into Hudson’s bed again.
After a few days, I stopped asking.
I didn’t even bother checking my room anymore.
This morning, half-asleep, I felt heat against my back.
The sheets were warmer than usual.
My knee bumped against something solid.
A heavy warmth rose and fell against my back, and my arm rested on skin. Smooth, warm skin.
I snuggled closer, my hand sliding over a firm, bare chest.
I snapped awake.
Hudson’s face filled my vision.
He was just inches away, eyes closed, jaw relaxed, breath tickling my nose.
My leg was tangled with his.
My arm was draped across his torso.
My cheek was pressed right against his chest, the defined muscles rising and falling with each breath.
I tried to wiggle free.
His arm tightened around my waist like a vice.
"When did you get back?" I asked. "Geoffrey said you wouldn’t be home for another week."
Hudson didn’t open his eyes.
He frowned, voice gravelly with sleep, "Go back to sleep."
He hauled me tighter against him. The faint mint scent I associated with him seemed to be everywhere now, amplified by our closeness. His heat was perfect. I was completely enveloped, cocooned against the morning chill.
My face burned.
Last night, I had sprawled like a starfish across the bed.
Now I was trapped beneath a six-foot human furnace with zero concept of personal space.
I cleared my throat. "Okay. Well, I’ll... get up. You can have your bed back."
I pushed against his arm. It didn’t budge.
I tried to scoot backward.
He shifted in his sleep and then gripped me tighter, like I was an oversized teddy bear.
"Hudson," I whispered, "you’re crushing me."
He mumbled, his voice lost in my hair, "Got in at two. Let me sleep a little longer."
I leaned back and studied him.
He hadn’t shaved. Stubble darkened his jaw.
His eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones.
His hand rested heavy on my lower back, and though his grip was firm, his breathing remained steady.
He really did look wiped out.
I stopped struggling.
My muscles relaxed, sinking into the mattress, into him.
It was toasty under the covers.
Not just central-heating warm, but bone-deep warm.
I let out a small breath and inched a little closer.
Just five minutes. Maybe ten.
I hadn’t meant to fall back asleep.
But I did.
When I opened my eyes, Hudson was lying on his side, propping himself up with one arm, watching me.
His hair was messy, sticking up in the back like he’d run his hands through it.
His gaze was locked on me.
"What time is it?" I asked, my voice a little raspy.
He glanced at the sunlight peeking through the edge of the curtains. "Does it matter?"
He didn’t look like he was planning to move.
His elbow sank deeper into the mattress, but the rest of him stayed perfectly still, his eyes tracing my face, my collarbone, the edge of my shoulder where the blanket had slipped.
My limbs felt heavy and warm, like sleep hadn’t fully let go of me.
I blinked slowly, then let my head fall back against the pillow.
He kept staring.
I felt the shift in the air. The charge.
He leaned forward slightly, then pulled back.
His hand clenched and unclenched near the blanket.
Then he said calmly, "You’ve taken over my bed. I think you owe me something."
Akira stirred inside me. "This is getting interesting."
"Shut up," I muttered internally.
"What? I’m just saying what we’re both thinking."
I felt Hudson’s fingers brush against my arm, snapping me back to reality.
