by Meghan Quinn
“Rosie, what’s wrong? Why are you crying, love?”
“I’m sorry,” I said into his shirt, trying to avoid getting snot all over him. I pulled away and wiped my eyes. “Just a rough day.”
“You said that. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” I admitted. Even telling Henry what happened seemed like something I couldn’t possibly do.
He quirked his mouth to the side while he studied me. “Rosie, you tell me everything. What’s going on? Does it have to do with that lint roller guy?”
“His name is Phillip.”
Taking a deep breath, Henry responded, “Fine, does it involve Phillip?”
“It might.” More tears started to fall down my cheeks from the thought of what happened.
Growing angry in an instant, Henry made me look at him. “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” I choked out as a sob escaped me.
“Love, please talk to me. What happened? You’re scaring me.”
Sighing into him, I just blurted it all out. “I farted on his chin when he was pleasing me orally.”
Henry’s soothing rubbing on my back stopped. “Wait, what?”
Wiping the snot from my nose, I elaborated. “Things escalated a little at lunch and he took me back to his office where he went down on me, something I’d never experienced before. I got a little too relaxed so when he was down there, I kind of tooted.” I want to blame the angle on the desk. I really wanted to blame the angle.
Henry’s face contorted and I could see him trying to be polite and not laugh in my face, but he held it together as he pulled me back into his chest and kissed the top of his head.
“Don’t worry about it, love. That happens all the time.”
“That is not true. You’re telling me a girl has farted while you were going down on her?”
“Happened to me twice. I take it as a compliment, that I was able to relax a girl that much that she let all her inhibitions go. Grant it, it’s not the sexiest thing to ever happen in the bedroom, but it’s not the worst either. What did Phillip do?”
Loathing myself, I said, “He backed away like I just lit a match next to my butt to spout off dragon fire and went to this bathroom. I booked it out of his office, minus underwear, as quickly as I could run and then hid in my office until the end of the day.”
“Oh, love”—Henry kissed the top of my head—“I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“You’re not going to laugh at me, poke fun at me?”
“No, you’re clearly upset, and the guy should have been more of a gentleman about it. It’s not an uncommon thing, love. It’s hard to keep everything held in when you’re having a good time, which I assume you were having.”
“Honestly, I can’t believe I let it happen. What was I thinking? I mean, I didn’t even know the guy and I let him stick his tongue down there. I think I was all caught up in the fantasy.”
“And what fantasy is that?” Henry asked, kissing the side of my head and snuggling in closer.
“You know, the alpha male, businessman fantasy. Where the guy wants you right then and there and you let it happen; you throw caution to the wind and let the man dominate you.”
“Not familiar with that fantasy,” Henry lightly teased. “But seems like something I might be interested in.”
“Stop.” I laughed and pushed him away.
“Made that gorgeous smile of yours come out, now didn’t I?”
I was about to answer him when my phone rang. Reaching over, I picked it up and saw my parents’ phone number appear. I wondered what they wanted?
“Hello?”
“Hi, honey,” my mom said. “How are you?”
“Doing good, Mom.”
Henry perked up from hearing me say mom. He loved my parents and my parents loved Henry, sometimes it felt like more than me.
He grabbed the phone from me and squeezed my thigh as he said, “Hi, Mrs. Bloom. It’s great to hear from you. I’m doing great and how about yourself? Oh, is that right? Well, tell Mr. Bloom I would eat your spaghetti any day, even if you used tomato paste as the sauce.”
I cringed. My mom wasn’t the best of cooks and growing up, my dad and I made sure to have spare meals around the house for instances where she only made spaghetti sauce with tomato paste.
“Good talking to you as well. Hold on.” Henry handed me the phone and said, “It’s your mom.”
“Really? I had no clue,” I said sarcastically while putting the phone to my ear. “Hi, Mom.”
“Oh, I really miss Henry. Please tell me you both will come out to the house for brunch on Sunday. We would love to see you two.”
“Brunch on Sunday? I’m not sure, Mom,” I looked at Henry who was nodding his head and giving me the thumbs up. “Are you cooking?”
“Aren’t you a funny girl today? No, you know your dad won’t let me near the kitchen for brunch, especially when he’s making his famous baked French toast.”
“Baked French toast? Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“And Henry?”
Figures, my mom was more concerned about Henry.
I turned to the man who was smiling brightly, his eyes happy as his handsome face lit up only for me. God, I was so lucky he was in my life.
“Henry, would you like to go to brunch with me on Sunday at my parents’ house?”
“Do you even have to ask?”
“He’s in, Mom.” My mom cheered on the other line, making me roll my eyes.
“That’s just wonderful, honey. I miss you two kids. When are you finally going to get together? You would make such a perfect couple.”
“All right, I’m going, Mom,” I said, ending the conversation. Without a doubt, my mom always asked the question of my status with Henry. She was bound and determined to make sure we ended up together. She couldn’t get it through her head that we were just friends.
“Okay, honey. I love you and tell Henry bye for me.”
“I will.”
I hung up the phone and tossed it on the coffee table. Feeling exhausted, I rested my head against the arm of the sofa and looked at Henry.
“Did she ask if we were dating again?” Henry asked.
“Never fails to ask.”
Laughing, Henry pulled on my arm and made me sit up so I was in his embrace again. He made slow circles on my skin with his thumb, sending chills through me.
“Why don’t you let it happen, make your mom happy?”
It was the same teasing conversation we had whenever I got off the phone with my mom. Each time, he suggested we give it a try, and each time, I rolled my eyes at him, because I knew he was only kidding. Although, tonight, it didn’t seem like he was teasing. He sounded more serious.
“Yeah, because that wouldn’t be a mistake,” I replied, trying to lighten the mood.
I felt Henry stiffen from my words and for a second, I thought maybe I’d offended him, but then he said, “Yeah, probably.”
“I think our food is getting cold.” Time to move past this awkward moment.
“Should I reheat?”
“No, let’s just eat.”
Releasing me, Henry leaned forward and grabbed for the food. He handed me my plate and a fork and then grabbed his own.
“You know me too well, beef and broccoli, my favorite.”
“Our favorite.” He winked while digging in, not taking a chance to breathe as he inhaled everything on his plate. With his mouth full, he asked, “So, what does this mean for your book? Are you still going to write it?”
“I am.” I nodded, covering my mouth with my hand while I chewed. “It’s just going to take a while. Did I tell you it’s a little ode to our friendship?”
“Really?” He seemed surprised.
“Yeah, I wanted to modernize it a bit, so I’m writing a book about friends in college who find they have feelings for each other along the way.”
“Any of this story true?” he asked while wiggling his eyebrows.
I pressed my h
and against his forehead and said, “You and my mom. You’re going to drive me crazy.”
“It wouldn’t be so bad, you know. We know each other, we’re comfortable with each other, we’re best friends . . .”
“And we would ruin that friendship when things don’t work out.”
“And how do you know things wouldn’t work out?” he asked with a teasing tone, but when I looked into his eyes, I saw something different. He looked serious. Why is he teasing me about this? I'll never have Henry. I'm never going to be enough for him. Why should he settle for me, when he's only ever looked at . . . well, everyone but me?
“Because we both know I’m not your type, Henry. Plus, I’m way too inexperienced for you. The furthest I’ve gotten in bed is face farting.”
Chuckling, Henry shook his head and said, “Sorry, I had to let out a little laugh.”
“That’s all right. I was waiting for you to finally lose that façade you were hiding behind.”
Shrugging, he said, “I’m only human, but back to us.” With a not so subtle eyeroll, I let him continue. “Think about it, love. My experience can help your inexperience. I can teach you everything you need to know.” Softly, he looked up at me and said, “We would be perfect together.”
My heart dropped as I thought about the possibility. God, at that moment, I wanted him, I wanted to see what it would be like to be his, to have his lips on mine, to experience another side of Henry . . . the only side I didn’t know.
Instead of throwing my arms around him, I brushed him off, not ready to throw away one of the best friendships I’d ever had.
“Get out of here, not going to happen.”
“Why?” he asked seriously, making me sweat. Was he for real right now?
“Seriously?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest. I’d bore him. And then he’d move on. And I’d be left . . . just left. Why is he pushing for that?
Silence fell between us as Henry looked into my eyes, searching for something from me, and I had no clue what it was.
“Forget it. I’m not up for a movie. I might just go into my room and watch some TV and go to bed. You’re welcome to join me.”
I could feel him pull away and I didn’t want that, not after everything we’d been through over the last twenty-four hours, so I said, “Slumber party?”
His face brightened again as he nodded and took my empty plate to the kitchen. I turned off the TV in the living room and helped Henry pack up the rest of the Chinese food. We worked in tandem, not having to say a word but getting the job done efficiently. I giggled to myself as I thought about it. No wonder my mom wanted us together; we already acted like an old married couple.
The kitchen was clean, the lights were turned out, so we headed to Henry’s room, which was always immaculately clean, more clean than my room and a hell of a lot cleaner than Delaney’s since she believed living in a rat’s nest was a lot easier than just cleaning it.
We snuggled into Henry’s bed, both facing the TV but with Henry’s chest to my back, his arms wrapped tightly around me. We started snuggling in college, and it was something we did often so to have Henry wrapped around me was nothing new. But this tingly feeling developing in the pit of my stomach every time I was around him? That was new.
“Where’s the remote?” he asked, looking around. “It was on the bed.” He reached over me and started digging around for it.
“Hey watch it,” I said as his hand connected with my bare breast.
In shock, we both sucked in a breath. Time stood still as we searched each other’s eyes, tried to figure out the electric energy passing between us. In that instant, and for the first time, I saw heat in his eyes as he took in my rising chest. My nipples were hard from the small contact, from the heated look he was giving me, and from the proximity of our bodies. It was all too much.
My mind was screaming at him to kiss me, to touch me again. I never thought I’d have such feelings for him, such outrageous cravings for the man, but right now, with him staring at me, his body so close to mine—building a wave of heat through my veins—I wanted his touch. Needed his touch.
Painstakingly, his hand slowly moved to the front of my shirt. I could feel my breathing pick up from his closeness. His head lowered just enough so his nose grazed mine, lightly touching me. My heart seized as his hand carefully caressed my breast over my shirt. He lowered the extra inch, and his lips barely danced against mine. It was subtle, but it was fucking electrifying, as if damn sparklers were shooting off between us.
All nerves I’d experienced before with the other guys were gone, and what was left was an overwhelming feeling of euphoria. But this was Henry, my Henry, my best friend, the one guy I could count on. Was I really letting him kiss me? Was I really having these all-consuming feelings for him?
Not once did he press me nor push too hard; he kept his kiss light, his hand soft, and his body relaxed, which caused me to feel every inch of him—every ounce of sweetness he was pouring through me, every last bit of yearning he possessed for me.
I was so gone.
In that moment, he took my heart.
And sadly, the moment didn’t last long.
The minute he pulled away, I felt empty and for some weird reason, I wanted more. And that was what scared me the most. I didn’t want him to stop kissing me, or touching me. I wanted him to strip me and take what I was offering to every other man in my life.
And then it was crystal clear what I truly wanted.
I wanted Henry to be the one to take my virginity.
His eyes glazed over as he looked down at me and said, “Sorry, love.”
The smile that crossed his face told me he wasn’t truly sorry, which only confused me even more.
He reached under his pillow and pulled out the remote control and then turned on the TV. He rested his head against mine as his arm pulled me in close to his body. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to—his lips had literally done the talking for him.
For the life of me I couldn’t figure out Henry’s motives or what he was planning on doing with the situation he just brewed between us, but after the conversation we’d had about being together and probably the most amazingly fantastic kiss I’d ever experienced, I was more confused than ever.
But damn was I satisfied.
As the TV played in the background, I thought about everything between Henry and me. Was this really happening? Were we really crossing the line of friendship?
I felt him drift off to sleep while he held on to me, so I planned my escape as I turned the TV off and lay in his bed, in his embrace, thinking what tomorrow would bring.
I felt awkward. I didn’t know what to say to him, what to do. Did we ignore what happened and move on our merry way, or did we talk about it in the morning while enjoying a cup of coffee together?
Heat blazed through me from the thought of having that conversation. There was no way I would be able to do that. I was too much of a wuss.
Instead of staying the night with Henry, I slowly crept out of his bed and covered him up with his blankets. Before I left, I looked at him and studied his handsome face. I’d always crushed on him, big time, but I’d always believed we were better off friends. He was my best friend in the whole world and I wouldn’t give that up for a crush. I never wanted to lose him.
Once I left his room, I started thinking about his intention behind the kiss. Why would he do that and risk everything we had together? Was he really a cherry chaser like Delaney said? Is that all he wanted me for? That would devastate me if he was.
I went back to my room and shut my door quietly, not to wake Henry. I pulled out my Kindle and started reading to clear my mind. I needed to get lost in thoughts other than my own. I drifted off to sleep that night, ignoring the pressing feeling building in my chest and the despair that was prickling my heart. Henry and I had crossed a line tonight that I was pretty sure would have a huge impact on our friendship in the future.
The next morning, I avoided him
at all costs. Usually we ran into each other in the bathroom or he would come in my room while I was doing my makeup and check up on me, but that didn’t happen. We kept our distance and that gnawing feeling grew bigger with every minute we weren’t talking to each other.
I dressed in a high-waisted black pencil skirt and polka-dot silk top and paired it with black heels. My hair was in waves this morning—thank you, curling iron—and I was wearing my signature red lipstick. I had no clue why I got all dressed up for work, since my coworkers were a bunch of furballs, but getting dressed in what I considered my power-dressing outfit made me feel better about myself.
Because Delaney was at Derk’s last night, it was just Henry and me in the apartment, making it that much more uncomfortable.
I walked into the kitchen while buttoning my shirt up, deciding if I could get away with two or three undone buttons, when I spotted Henry leaning against the counter in the kitchen, dressed in one of his immaculate suits and drinking a cup of coffee.
“Good morning, love,” he said causally over his mug of coffee, as if he hadn’t given me the most passionate kiss of my life last night.
“Good morning,” I replied while looking at the ground and into my purse. I was ready to get the hell out of the apartment, even if it meant getting to work early.
Henry came up to me from behind and placed his hands on my hips. He lowered his head to my ear, sending chills up my spine.
“You look beautiful, love.”
Every bone in my body turned into limp noodles as I tried to calm my raging heart that was punching a steady rhythm against my rib cage. What was happening to me?
“Thank you,” I squeaked out.
“Turn around,” he demanded, and I did, not even questioning it.
With a tilt of my chin, he had me staring into his beautiful eyes, wishing I could read his mind.
“I’m sorry if I caught you off guard last night, but I’m not sorry for what I did. I couldn’t help myself when you looked so gorgeous with your hair fanned out against my pillow and your beautiful eyes staring at me. I had to taste you, love.”
Umm, not something I expected to hear.