Choosing Henley

by Anne Jolin

  Motherfucker. My stupid lie. “My mother you ogre,” I quip, rolling my eyes at him. It’s not that I actually have plans with my mom, but she always loves a surprise visit, and that is much safer than spending another night letting Jami try to woo me. Or whatever it is that he’s trying to do. “Now would you please get off me? Everyone is going to be waiting for us,” I say bitchily, trying to show my irritation at the situation.

  He takes one hand from beside my head and reaches it into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone. It’s the only movement he makes, and it still leaves me completely boxed in. He draws his head back from mine just long enough to punch a few buttons into his phone before putting it against his ear.

  “Hey, man.” Whoever’s on the other line is quiet enough that I can’t hear, but this seems like a very poorly timed phone call if you ask me. “Yup. We’re fine. Can you fit everyone in the truck?” He pauses, listening to the response. “Piss off. I will. Later,” he says before placing his phone back into his pocket. The flair of anger that was dancing behind his brown eyes is gone and he’s giving me the look. You know, the look people give you when they know something you don’t know. This can’t be good.

  “Well that must have been an important phone call if you had to make it right this second while you’re in the middle of scolding me like some kind of child.” I glare at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Actually,” he says, chuckling at me, “it was very important.”

  “You threw me up against a car. Gave me the third degree. Then placed a”—I make bunny ear quotations with my fingers—“’important call’”—I roll my eyes—“and now, you’re laughing at me. Seriously? You’re making me want to hurt you,” I clip out before shooting him my best bitch face. I mean, really? Come on, dude. Oh god, I just said dude.

  “Hmmm,” he hums as he moves his face towards mine.

  I turn my head because I am way too unstable in this moment to end up in some kind of make-out session and feel the stubble on his face graze my cheek before he whispers into my ear.

  “I’m not sure I’d mind it all that much if you wanted to try and hurt me, Beatle,” he growls in an entirely different way than before, running his nose along the shell of my ear. “I could think of much more interesting things to do with you pressed up against this truck.” He nips my earlobe and I’m completely paralyzed by him again.

  If I were wearing my panties and they weren’t already soaked from the onslaught of hot flashbacks I’ve been having all day, they sure as hell would be now. God damn, this man knows every button of mine to push, and he loves to push them.

  “You’re a… Why don’t you…” are among some of the words I think I mumble incoherently. I can literally feel the fight leaving my body, being replaced by need and lust.

  He tortures me a minute longer, teasing my ear before slowly pulling away and giving me one of his sexy cocky grins. The foot of space between our faces is helping some of the fog in my brain clear. When he starts chuckling again, I want to kick myself. The little fucker knows exactly what he does to me. Exactly how my body reacts to his.

  “My Beatle.” He winks as he backs away from me. “Such a little pistol. I love it.”

  “I’m not yours or a bug or a gun,” I groan, but he just ignores me, grabbing my hand and weaving us through the parked cars.

  Once we reach his Jeep, I look around. “Where are they? Did they seriously just leave without me?” I huff in disbelief, scanning the lot for Greyson’s mammoth of a truck.

  “I told them to go,” Jami says, fumbling with his key fob to unlock the Jeep.

  I place my hand on my hip and stare at him. “What do you mean you told them to go? When did this happen? They were my ride home!” I’m trying hard not to flail my arms around like a bratty child.

  “I told Greyson to take the others and go,” he explains nonchalantly, opening the passenger’s side door for me.

  “That’s who you called? In the middle of”—I wave my hand towards the parked trucks we were at earlier—“whatever that macho bullshit was?” I question. I’m pretty sure my mouth is gaping at him.

  “It’s not like I’m a serial killer or something, Beatle. Just get in or we’re going to be late.” He chuckles, cocking an eyebrow at me.

  I know I’m being difficult and probably a bit of cow, I’ll admit, but I’m mostly pissed that Hannah left me here with him knowing everything that’s going on. I’m mentally deciding on the ways to punish my best friend next time I see her when his last words ring in my head.

  “Wait. What do you mean we’re going to be late?” I ask. “Late for what?”

  “For dinner.” He smiles, lifting me into the seat. “With your mom.” He shuts my door without giving me a chance to answer, leaving me slack-jawed like a complete loser while he walks around the front of the Jeep.

  He turns over the vehicle and cranks up the heat. It always takes a few minutes for the windows to defrost before you can drive, so I jump on the opportunity.

  “You mean I am,” I say, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

  “What?” He grins to himself as he plugs a cord into his iPhone.

  “You mean I am going to be late for dinner with my mother,” I clarify.

  “Yes, you are going to be late,” he replies quickly, and I sigh, closing my eyes while relaxing into the seat. “And I am too.”

  My eyes spring back open, my head turning so fast that I think it’s going to pop off. “I’m sorry. What?” I must be hearing shit. Great. I can add ‘crazy’ to my list of smashing qualities.

  “You have dinner plans with your mom. I want to spend time with you. So I’m coming with you.” He says this like it’s the most casual statement on the planet.

  You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. “You are not coming for dinner at my mother’s house,” I state firmly, shaking my head at his audacity.

  As he puts the Jeep in drive, he says, “Yes I am.”

  “You can’t just invite yourself to someone’s house for dinner. That’s rude.” I’m grasping at straws as I feel my panic starting to choke me. I’ve never brought a guy home for dinner. Ever.

  “I just did.”

  When he smirks over at me, I want to throw something at him. I can’t even say that my mother doesn’t know I am coming for dinner because then he’ll know that I lied about having plans in the first place, which is something I definitely don’t want him to know.

  “No,” is all I say back to him before turning up the radio so he doesn’t try to argue with me.

  The drive to my mother’s house is short. She doesn’t live very far from town. When Jami pulls into the driveway, it’s only a little past five o’clock. Late my ass. I reach for the handle of the door before he even has the Jeep in park and hear him growl.

  “I’ll get it,” he scolds before jumping out of his side. Jami the door nazi. Jeeze.

  “Thanks for the ride,” I murmur under my breath as he helps me out. Then I turn around and head up to the front door. I only make it a few steps when I hear heavy footsteps in the snow behind me. When I quickly spin around, I find Jami trailing behind me. “What are you doing?” I ask, hoping my voice sounds as annoyed as I feel.

  “I’m walking you to the door.” He pretends to look offended. “Someone recently told me I was rude. I’m trying to rectify that,” he says, grinning at me.

  I raise my eyebrows at him. “By walking me to my mom’s front door?”

  “Well, it wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me if I didn’t make sure you got inside safely,” he answers with a mock seriousness to his voice.

  He always manages to sneak past my guards, and before I know it, my face is splitting into a grin that matches his.

  “Oh yes.” I nod my head dramatically. “Because Rock Falls at five o’clock at night on a Sunday is ever so dangerous.” I can’t help the laugh that escapes me.

  “Exactly. I’m glad you understand.” He smiles back at me. I turn around, shaking my head at him, an
d I feel his hand settle onto my lower back. “I’ll do a better job of assessing the danger if I stay close,” he whispers from behind me.

  I don’t bother answering as we climb the stairs to my mother’s front door. I didn’t expect to be coming by, and having left my purse at home, I reach out to knock. I stop myself midway, turning around to face Jami.

  “I’m here all safe and sound. You’ve redeemed yourself.” I nod, gesturing for him to go back to his vehicle.

  He opens his mouth to answer when the door swings open and my mother’s booming voice spills out into the early evening air.

  “Lennon darling, I didn’t know you were coming over tonight,” she gushes, enveloping me into a big hug.

  I hear Jami snicker behind me. Well, so much for avoiding the whole lying topic. Thanks, Mom. She pulls away from me, her hands still resting on my shoulders, and I can tell when she spots Jami standing there because she sucks in a breath.

  “And who is this?” she coos.

  “Jamison Henley, ma’am. Nice to meet you,” he says, reaching out a hand to her.

  “Melissa Montgomery,” she answers. “But you can call me Meli.”

  Jami corrects himself. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Meli.” He has his charm dial turned all the way up and my mother is no exception to its effect over women.

  I find myself needing to clarify that we weren’t hanging out alone all day. “Jami has to get going now anyway, Mom. He was just dropping me off because we all rode together to the movies this afternoon.”

  She looks at him and smiles. “Where are you off to in such a hurry, Jami?”

  “Nowhere, ma’am,” he starts to answer when she gives him a little glare. “Nowhere, Meli. I don’t have any place to be,” he tells her.

  That little shit. Walking me to the door my ass.

  “Well, I have to take something out of the freezer anyway, seeing as I didn’t know Lennon was stopping by, and there will be plenty of food. Would you like to stay for dinner?” she offers, and I’m mentally bashing my head against the wall.

  “He can’t,” I answer at the same time that Jami says, “I’d love to.”

  My mom turns to glare at me over her shoulder. “Well, that’s settled then. Come on inside, kids. It’s freezing out here,” she says before heading back into the house.

  I look over at Jami and glare. “You conned me,” I hiss.

  “You lied to me,” he counters. “Looks like we’re even, Beatle.” He winks before following my mom into the house. Son of a bitch.

  I walk inside, shutting the heavy, wood door behind me and sigh. I can hear Mom and Jami talking from somewhere inside the house, presumably the kitchen and let my head fall back against the closed door. How did I get here? I’m mentally running over everything that happened today. I went from starting off the day with wanting to avoid spending too much time with Jami, to eating dinner with him at my mother’s house. What the hell?

  I’ve been pursued by men before, sure. But this is something entirely different. He will not ease up. If anything, the more I pull back, the more he is right there dragging me back in. Back into whatever this thing between us has turned into. It is sending my brain into a tailspin. Every time I imagine that I have the situation under control, he does something to knock me completely off my game again. It has to be some kind of hard-to-get thing. Men love a woman they can’t have. I decide to chalk it up to that as I hang my coat up. I’m a challenge. He’s bored, single, and looking for another challenge.

  I walk through the sunken living room before turning the corner into the kitchen. Mom is laughing at something Jami’s saying and my heart does a funny flip-flop. Just a challenge, I remind myself as I watch them. They haven’t noticed me yet, so I lean up against the wall. When my mom shakes her head at him while she laughs, a few brunette curls slip out of her hair clip, which makes me smile.

  I’m incredibly lucky to have such a great mother. She’s been everything for me my entire life. Whatever I needed her to be, she became. She was nurturing but also protective, just like I imagine a dad would be. I feel a different pain in my heart thinking of Barry Montgomery, my father.

  I look at Jami again. He’s helping mom get something in the cabinet above the fridge, and I start to chew my lower lip. What in god’s name am I going to do with him? If he keeps finding little ways to sneak into my heart, I am going to end up hurt no matter how this plays out.

  DINNER GOES GREAT. Well, as great as a dinner you didn’t expect to have with people you didn’t expect to have it with can go. Jami keeps mom in a fit of laughter throughout the night and intrigued us both while discussing his work. It’s obvious how much he loves it, and although I don’t understand half the words coming out of his mouth when he explains it, it’s still a beautiful sight to watch him talk about his work with such passion.

  It is close to ten o’clock at night and I can’t believe nearly five hours have gone by this quickly. I expected to feel weird or panicky about him being in my childhood home and spending time with my mom, but in all actuality, it feels very comfortable. Easy, even.

  Mom and I are both curled up in front of the fireplace. I’m in a large, leather armchair and she’s sitting on the loveseat.

  “I’m just going to run out and warm up the Jeep,” Jami says, standing up from his spot on the other couch and heading towards the front door.

  It takes literally only a second for him to be out of earshot before my mom is on me. “Well isn’t he thoughtful.” She smirks, taking a lazy sip of her red wine.

  “Mom,” I warn, shooting her a sideways glance.

  “What?” she answers, feigning innocence. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Uh huh.” I roll my eyes at her before going back to watching the fire.

  “But if I were going to say something…” she starts. Here we go. “I’d say this. That man right there”—she gestures towards the front door—“is one of a kind.”

  “Mom, please—” I try to interrupt, but she continues on.

  “He isn’t your regular Joe, darling. He’s a once-in-a-lifetime type of guy.” She pauses. “Lennon, look at me.” I groan but do as I’ve been told, turning my face to her. “Once in a lifetime, my sweet girl, and he’s in love with you.”

  As a pick my jaw up from the floor, I hear the front door open and close. It’s probably a good thing he’s coming back now, interrupting our conversation, because I have no idea what to say to my mom. Has she gone and lost her marbles? She isn’t that old yet. My god. He’s in love with me—please.

  I take another moment to school the expression on my face before standing. “I think we should probably get going, Mom,” I tell her, stretching.

  “The Jeep should be warmed up by now,” Jami says, entering the living room.

  “It was lovely meeting you,” my mom coos as we step into our shoes and pull on our coats.

  “Thank you again for dinner, Meli,” He flashes her his megawatt smile while rubbing a hand over his stomach. “I think I’m still going to be full tomorrow,” he teases.

  “Well, I hope you’ll come by again soon.”

  “I hope so too.” He leans down to kiss her on the cheek, and my stupid heart flutters again for the millionth time tonight.

  “I look forward to it, Jami,” she coos before turning to hug me. “Goodnight, darling. Call me when you get into the salon on Tuesday. I need to come in for a trim,” she says.

  “Sure thing, Mom. Love you,” I answer as Jami starts to walk out the door. I turn to follow him when Mom grabs me by the arm.

  “Remember what I said, Lennon. Give that boy a chance or you’ll regret it.” She scoops my face in her hands and plops a kiss on the tip of my nose. “Now go on. You’re heating the outside with this door open,” she jokes. “I love you.”

  I laugh, closing the door behind me and walking down the steps. Jami is leaning up against the passenger’s side door of his Jeep, watching me as I make my way towards him.

  “I like your mom,
” he says as I stop in front of him. “I think she likes me too.”

  “Mhmm,” I hum dramatically. “Only because I didn’t tell her you double as a con artist.”

  “I told you I was coming with you. It’s hardly my fault you didn’t believe me.” He winks at me as I move around him, reaching for the door handle.

  I try to open it, but he’s still resting his entire body against the door. “Excuse me,” I say before looking down and trying to pull it open again.

  His arm slides around my waist, dragging me up against his side. “Thank you,” he whispers, and I lift my head to look at him.

  “Thank you for what?”

  “Thank you for letting me have this. I know it wasn’t easy for you.” He reaches up, running the pad of his thumb across my cheek.

  I push at him playfully. “It’s not really like I had a choice,” I tease.

  “You don’t have to do that with me,” he says, searching my eyes for something.

  “Do what?” I ask him, confused.

  “You don’t have to deflect the things you feel with humour. Not with me. I don’t know why this is so hard for you, and I hope that, someday, you’ll tell me when you’re ready.” He pulls my body tighter against him. “I want real, Beatle. I want real with you. I always have.”

  His words jumpstart my heart and my pulse starts to race. He seems so sincere, but I can’t afford to misread the situation. This is all happening so fast. It’s only been two days since New Year’s Eve.

  “Why now?” I question, looking up at his handsome face. “I don’t understand.”

  “I thought you needed time. When I woke up that morning and you were gone, I knew you weren’t ready. I thought you’d come back, that whole ‘let what you love free and it will return to you’ shit, but you never did. I’m done giving you space, Lennon. I know you feel this too. I know that you want me too. You just need a little push.” He leans in, letting his lips brush against mine as he speaks. “I’m going to be here, baby, for as long as it takes, but you are going to love me one day, Beatle. There ain’t no doubt about it.” His mouth captures mine in a slow, sweet kiss.