Choosing Henley

by Anne Jolin

  “I was half expecting you’d bolt.” He grins, crossing his arms over his chest.

  He’s handsome as all hell tonight, wearing fitted blue jeans, some kind of hiking or work boots, an army-green Under Armour sweater, and a black snow jacket.

  “The thought crossed my mind,” I answer honestly. He might as well know what he’s getting himself into.

  “I’ll take what I can get. Are you ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be considering I don’t know what we’re doing.” I don’t mean to come across snarky, but I’m nervous, and when I’m nervous, my default setting seems to be snarky.

  “It doesn’t matter. I have what you’ll need in the Jeep,” he says before turning on his boot and walking down the stairs.

  I hurry out the door, tugging on my jacket as I follow behind him. I’m looking down at my right sleeve, trying to shove my hand through it, when I walk right into his front.

  “Do you ever watch where you’re going?” he teases, reaching out to steady me.

  I blush, taking a moment to get my feet under me. “It doesn’t happen all the time,” I say, glaring up at him. Like I said, default setting. Snarky.

  “It’s only around me then.” He grins smugly. “I like that.”

  “You like watching me make an idiot of myself?” I ask, arching my eyebrows at him.

  “No, I like catching you when you make an idiot of yourself.” He winks and grabs my hand, spinning around to walk towards his Jeep.

  It’s starting to get harder and harder to tell myself that this isn’t a date.

  Jami opens the passenger’s side door and helps me inside before running around to get in on the driver’s side. When he starts the Jeep, the local country station immediately starts pouring in through the speakers. He moves to turn the volume down, but I reach out to stop him.

  “I like it.”

  He smiles back at me before backing out of the driveway.

  I literally do not have a clue in the world as to what we could be doing. It’s eight o’clock at night in the middle of winter, in the pitch black, on a holiday. Nothing is open.

  We drive without speaking for a few minutes, listening to the radio, before he pulls into the parking lot at the base of the local mountain.

  “Have you ever been tubing?” he asks me excitedly.

  “Uhm… In the river. In the summer,” I answer back hesitantly.

  He unbuckles himself before jumping out of the Jeep, still leaving me completely clueless. It’s a little too cold for hanging out in the river. I open my door before he can get there, and I don’t miss his growl when he sees me do it.

  “I’ll get it,” Jami says gruffly, helping me out of the lifted vehicle. Then he reaches into the back seat and shuffles around for a minute before he finally finds what he’s looking for. He turns around to face me and I burst out laughing.

  “Where in god’s name did you get those?” I giggle and snort. Gee. That was ladylike.

  In his hands are two of the ugliest snowsuits I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Did I mention that they are both neon and one piece? Oh yes, one-piece snowsuits.

  “They used to be my Mom and Dad’s,” he says proudly, thrusting the neon-pink-and-teal suit at me.

  I try to shake off the weight that settles on my chest when he mentions both his parents so fondly. “And what exactly do you want me to do with it?”

  “I want you to wear it. We’re going snow tubing.” He grins stepping into his navy-blue-and-neon-green snowsuit. I’m still standing there dumbfounded when he laughs. “Do you need help putting it on?” He shoots a suggestive, cocky smile in my direction.

  “I think I can manage,” I mumble, staring down at the monstrosity in my hands. I don’t wear colour ever. And he wants me to traipse around in a neon snowsuit? Ah, what the hell.

  It takes us a few minutes to zip into our suits. Jami grabs a backpack from inside the Jeep before locking the door and taking my hand in his. I freeze at the casual show of affection and start to pull my hand away, but he tightens his grip.

  “We wouldn’t want your hands to get cold,” he says, looking over at me as we walk towards the mountain.

  “Liar,” I tease, sticking my tongue out at him. The panic in my chest has eased and the moment now feels light.

  “I’d keep that tongue inside your mouth, Lennon, unless you want to show me what you can do with it,” he growls, and heat pools between my legs.

  This man makes me feel such a range of emotions all at the same time. It’s overwhelming. First, I’m scared, then I’m laughing, and then I’m horny as all hell. My neon snowsuit is starting to feel very, very warm.

  The smile that spreads across his face when we get to the base of the mountain is adorable. I know he is adventurous and loves the outdoors. Hannah is always complaining about how he drags her to do all these outdoorsy things, but I have to admit that seeing him in his element like this is pretty damn unreal. He looks like an excited little boy trapped inside a hot-as-sin man. The result is cute as heck.

  I look up at the mountain and it’s impossible not to let his excitement rub off on me. His moods seem to be contagious.

  The slope is lit up with massive spotlights and there are people of all ages milling around. Kids, teenagers, parents, grandparents—you name it. Some are sliding down the slope in big, black tubes and others are playing in the snow at the bottom of the run.

  He pulls me towards a small ticket hut, where he rents us two tubes for an hour. He lets go of my hand to carry them both as we make our way to the little chairlift at the bottom of the run. There’s no line, so we walk right on. The tubes ride in the chair ahead of us, the attendants putting them on and taking them off at either end. He slides the bar down in front of us before we are lifted up off the ground.

  “It’s beautiful at night,” I murmur—somewhat to myself and somewhat to him.

  “The view doesn’t get much better than this,” he says back softly.

  I turn, startled to find him staring at me. “That was awfully cheesy of you,” I tease, elbowing him in the stomach. Deflect with humour. Good job, Lennon.

  “Doesn’t make it any less true,” he counters, sending me grin that I’m certain has incinerated some panties over the years.

  When I roll my eyes at him, he laughs.

  The ride on the chairlift is short, and before I know it, I’m standing at the top of the run, holding on to my black inner tube with a death grip. I look at the tube then look at where I’m supposed to go before repeating the process all over. I don’t mean to bring up Christmas Vacation again, but seriously… I do not want to Clark Griswold this. Especially in front of Jami. It must be written all over my face that I’m nervous because he laughs at me.

  I glare at him. “Sledding has never really been my thing. It sort of scares me.”

  His laughter stops and he leans in to kiss me on the cheek. “I’d never let anything happen to you. Don’t be scared,” he whispers in my ear. I feel hot from having him so close, even though it’s so cold that I can see my breath when I talk. “I’ll go first, and then you just do the same as me. Okay?” He moves away, nodding at me.

  “Okay.” I nod back and watch him climb into his tube.

  “Just like on the river, except a little faster.” He winks. “I’ll see you at the bottom,” he says before pushing off.

  After I watch him go, I repeat the same process of staring at my tube then staring at the run before me. I’m debating just not doing it when the little boy beside me pipes up.

  “It’s not scary, miss. I promise. You can hold my hand if you want to,” he says, reaching his little, gloved hand out towards me. He’s not more than five or so, and now, I feel like a total wimp.

  “That is very sweet of you,” I coo at the little gentleman. “I would love to hold your hand.”

  He waits for me to sit down in my tube before holding his hand out to me again. I take his small glove in mine as he starts to speak. “Just push off real slow,
‘kay?” he says very seriously.

  “Okay.” I reply.

  He counts to three and we push off at the same time. He starts yelling the way you do when you’re on a ride of some kind, and I can’t help but mimic him. Jami and the little gentleman were right. It’s fun and it isn’t scary at all. We laugh as we come down the final stretch.

  I see Jami standing at the bottom. He’s talking to an older man, and they are both smiling as they watch us come down the hill. When we reach the bottom, the little guy breaks free and runs over to the older gentleman.

  “Daddy! She was scared, so I let her hold my hand,” he tells his father.

  “That was very nice of you, Cooper.” He smiles down at him. “You have to say goodbye now though. It’s getting late.”

  Cooper groans before turning back around to look at me. “I’m sorry,” he says sadly. “I won’t be able to go down with you again.” He looks genuinely upset at my predicament.

  Jami kneels down in front of Cooper and whispers into his ear. I have no idea what he says, but it makes the little boy very happy. He gives Jami a high five before saying his goodbyes and leaving with his father.

  “What did you say to him?” I ask, moving to stand next to him.

  “I told him I’d hold your hand on the next one so you wouldn’t get scared,” Jami tells me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

  “Oh,” I let out weakly. I have no idea why little things like that make me feel so nervous.

  “What do you say, Beatle? Round two? Loser has to wear their snowsuit on the mountain next weekend.” He smirks.

  “You’re on!” I challenge as we head back up to the chairlift.

  Only a few minutes later, we are at the top of the hill, ready to go again. I’m sitting in my tube when Jami reaches over and grabs my hand.

  “How am I supposed to beat you if you’re holding my hand?” I tease.

  “A promise is a promise,” he says, winking at me.

  We slide down the mountain another four times after that before we finally decide to call it quits. Jami takes our tubes back to the hut while I sit on the snowbank. There were a few times where I felt the panic building, but he always made it subside quickly. The way he made my heart flutter was scary as shit. It’s always been a lot harder to avoid it when I’m around him, but now that it is just the two of us, it is nearly impossible.

  He never keeps his women for very long, and I know I’d never recover from being another name on the long list of Jami’s ex-girlfriends. But the negative turn my mind has taken stops when he plops down into the snow beside me and takes a thermos out of his backpack. He really is the most good-looking man I’ve ever met, and seeing his chiselled features against the bright-green snowsuit was a hilarious contradiction.

  “Hot chocolate?” he asks.

  “You brought hot chocolate?” I question back.

  “What’s wrong with hot chocolate?” he says, mocking offence.

  “You’re just so manly.” I wave my arm around him. “I didn’t expect it. It’s actually kind of adorable.”

  “I’m full of surprises, Beatle,” he explains, pouring the hot chocolate into two Styrofoam cups. I take a cautious sip to make sure it isn’t too hot and enjoy the hot steam on my cold face. “So you think I’m manly, eh? Does that mean you find me ruggedly good-looking?” he teases.

  “Selective hearing much?” I quip back before taking another sip.

  We talk in the snowbank until long after the tube park is shut down. We’ve always spent time together in a group of people, but I am already sure that I enjoy this more. This one-on-one time with him.

  Before we leave, he offers to let me keep the snowsuit, but I politely decline. Teal and pink neon are definitely not my colours—though I had a blast in it. When we pull up to the condo, my heart squeezes in my chest. This time, it isn’t in pain or out of panic. It’s because I’m just not ready to leave him.

  This time when he gets out of the Jeep, I wait for him to open my door. He grabs me around the waist and lowers me onto the snowy driveway.

  “I had fun tonight,” I tell him honestly.

  “Me too,” he says, his gaze dropping to my lips.

  Aside from the peck on the cheek earlier, he didn’t make any other moves to kiss me tonight. I’m sure that was on purpose. I know I can be a little skittish, especially around him. Now, he leans in, and I’m disappointed when he kisses my forehead.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Well that seems anticlimactic after our night together. I nod and begin walking towards the steps. I’m halfway up when I hear him call from across the driveway.

  “Lennon?”

  I turn back to look at him. “Yeah?”

  “You’re going to love me one day.” He smiles.

  I shake my head at him. “Whatever you say.” Then I laugh and close the door behind me, leaning against it.

  I know there’s a possibility that this could be the most reckless decision I make with my heart, but I don’t think I’ll be able to say no to that man forever.

  “HOW DID IT go last night?” Peyton asks, eyeing me over the edge of her coffee cup.

  I start picking at the edges of my bran muffin. “It was fine,” I give her vaguely.

  “That’s hardly a glowing recommendation.” Beth laughs as she walks into the kitchen, taking a seat next to Peyton at the breakfast bar. “He’s Jami freaking Henley. I don’t think he’s genetically capable of doing”—she makes bunny ear quotations with her fingers—“’fine.’”

  “It was fine,” I repeat, meeting her eyes with my ‘classic bitch face¸’ as Hannah calls it.

  “Whatever,” Beth says, twirling her finger in her hair. “Be a holdout then.”

  Beth hates being denied good gossip. We’ve butted heads over the topic multiple times during our lengthy friendship.

  “Where were you last night?” Peyton questions from beside her. She doesn’t ask with a challenging undertone, not like I would have had, but more out of blatant curiosity I think.

  “I was out,” Beth replies nonchalantly.

  “Out with whom?” Peyton is pressing her now, and I’m starting to feel like I missed a crucial part of this conversation. Which is impossible because I was in the kitchen before either of them.

  “A guy,” Beth quips back, not backing down from Peyton’s inquiry.

  “Oh,” Peyton answers, looking down into her coffee mug.

  I’m pretty sure I’m starting to piece together what is happening in front of me. I might as well find out. “Were you out with Jay?” Instead of looking at Beth while I’m speaking to her, I watch Peyton. The second his name comes out of my mouth, her entire body goes rigid. Touchdown.

  “No way, Jose. If you ain’t spillin’ the goods on your man, I’m certainly not spillin’ the goods on mine.” Beth cocks an eyebrow at me. She knows she’s won before I even open my mouth.

  “I’m going to shower,” I say, putting my mug in the sink. This is shaping up to be the third weird day in a row.

  I make my way down the hall to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. We don’t usually lock it when it’s just the girls at home because there is only one bathroom in the entire house. And when you gotta go, you gotta go. I turn on the shower, peeling off my pajamas before stepping underneath the hot spray. Standing there for a few minutes, I let the water beat down over my muscles.

  My brain has been working nonstop for the past two days since New Year’s Eve, and it’s starting to wear on me. We’ve only had one date—non-date…hangout…whatever—together and he is already way too close. I’ve spent twelve years keeping the opposite sex at a careful arm’s length from my heart, but Jamison Henley seems to have sneaked his way in when I wasn’t looking, and now, he won’t leave.

  “He’s Jami freaking Henely. I’m not sure he’s genetically capable of doing ‘fine.’” Beth’s words are playing in a loop in my head. She’s right. He’s Jami freaking Henley, and he never keeps a woman around for
longer than it takes him to make one of his guitars. I’ve seen him trade girls out for a new model every couple of months for as long as I’ve known him. So what in the name of god is a girl like me, a girl with the kind of heart that breaks, doing dancing with that disaster? I have no fucking clue.

  I’ve been in the shower awhile by the time I finish sorting my thoughts—or trying to anyway—and shampooing my hair. I’m bloody exhausted from the war of emotions battling in my head and in my heart. All I want to do is take advantage of one of my last two days off, before I have to sink back into reality. I step into the bathroom, wrapping one towel around on my head and another around my chest. I take time rubbing my favorite vanilla body cream over my skin and brushing my teeth before I open the door to head back to my room.

  I’m halfway down the hall when I hear people laughing in the living room. Greyson and Hannah must have stopped by. My bedroom is the closest to the end of the hall, and I duck in quickly. The last thing I need is to flash Greyson in my birthday suit.

  After shutting the door behind me, I reach for the knot in my towel and start to spin around so I can look for some clothes. I’m plotting what outfit is clean when I turn fully around and scream bloody murder. I scare easy. So what?

  “Son of a bitch!” I curse, clutching my heart on the outside of my chest.

  “I’d hardly say it’s fair for you to call my mother a bitch. You don’t even know her,” Jami teases from his perch on the edge of my bed.

  “What the fuck are you doing in here?” I screech, making a somewhat feeble attempt to cover myself up.

  “I called, but you didn’t answer. So I came over,” He answers, not so subtly letting his eyes roam

  “That seems a little stalkerish, don’t you think?” I bristle, turning my back to him as I search for some clothes to put on. I’m pretty ticked off. I’m not sure what angle he’s running right now, if he’s just looking for a rebound lay or what, but I’m not going to be that girl. I can’t afford to be that girl.

  It was hard enough walking away from him after the intimate night we spent together months ago. And I’m not going to be able to do it again. So why the fuck is he pushing so hard all of a sudden? It’s not exactly like he came chasing after me when I said that it was a one-time thing. No. He moved on to the next bimbo that had fallen off the skank tree and hit every branch on the way down. Fucking typical.