One Chance

by Best, Victoria J.

  When we reached his apartment, I shot off a text to Liza to make sure she was okay and to tell her where I was. She responded right away, letting me know that she was with Jackson. My brain settled a little knowing that she was all right.

  Now to focus on Henry.

  As soon as we got inside, Henry unbuttoned his dress shirt and pulled it off. My eyes went to the wide expanse of his chest, the muscles visible through the thin cotton of his tight white t-shirt. It was suddenly too hot in the apartment.

  “Can I use your bathroom?” I asked, gripping my purse to my chest.

  Henry pointed down the hall, following me down to disappear into his bedroom as I closed the bathroom door behind me. My reflection in the mirror matched the way I felt inside—disheveled and confused. My sandy hair was pulled to one side, hanging over my left shoulder, the meticulous curls I’d put into it before Liza and I left our apartment falling out and leaving it in a wavy mess. My eye makeup was smudged, all black underneath and in the corners. My cheeks were pale where they’d once had blush, and dark circles were beginning to form underneath my eyes as the concealer I’d applied earlier had been wiped away.

  “Ugh.” I grunted, taking a handful of toilet paper and wetting it before wiping the eye makeup off. I finger combed my hair into submission and glanced in the mirror. It would have to do.

  I exited the bathroom, strolling towards the living room to sit on the couch. Slipping my boots off, I looked for Henry down the hall, but he was still in his room. Before he returned, I slid the black tights I had stupidly put on under my dress off and shoved them into my purse. I had my legs curled under me and a throw blanket over me when he joined me. He was dressed in black sweatpants and the same white t-shirt he’d worn under his dress shirt. His hair was damp like he’d just showered.

  “Feel better?” I asked him, my hand involuntarily going to his wet hair. I ran my fingers through his dark, damp locks to the back of his head, my hand stopping at the nape of his neck.

  “Much,” he said, his jade eyes glowing with lust as I kept my hand on the back of his neck. “What about you?”

  I shrugged. “A little. I’m still reeling about what your mom’s making you do.”

  It was Henry’s turn to shrug. “I’m not surprised. My mother will stop at nothing to get her way. That’s why Jax is her favorite. He always does what she wants.”

  I shook my head, still unable to wrap my mind around it. “But she’s your mom. You told her what you wanted. My dad hovers. He’s texted and called me five times already today, but he always respects my wishes.”

  “Mother likes things her way. She’s more worried about what others think about her, about us, than anything else.” Henry looked sad as he spoke, and I leaned into him, resting my head on his chest. I wanted to be close to him. The idea that he was going away for a month made my chest ache.

  He wrapped his arms around me, all conversation of his mother forgotten. We sat like that for a little while, me against him and his arms around me. It felt nice, safe. Something I hadn’t felt in a long time. I didn’t have the need to fill the space with words or meaningless conversation. Before long, my eyes grew heavy, and I heard Henry’s breathing even out and slow. Just as I dozed off, I swore I heard Henry mumble something, but what he said didn’t make any sense.

  “One more chance.”

  * * *

  I was so warm, hot even. Rolling over, I opened my eyes. It was dark in the room, except for a small light coming from somewhere behind me. The pillow I was laying on was hard, lumpy, and I pushed up to look down at it.

  It wasn’t a pillow; it was Henry’s chest. We had fallen asleep on the couch.

  “What time is it?” I mumbled against his chest as I lay back down.

  Based on how dark it was outside the large windows in front of us, it was still early.

  “Mmmm.” Henry made an unintelligible sound, his face buried in the back of the couch.

  “What?” I asked, looking up at him again.

  He lifted his head, his eyes meeting mine as clarity came into them. His hair was sticking up in the back, rumpled from sleep. I reached my hand up, smoothing it back down, my hand traveling the same route it had earlier to the back of his neck. Henry’s eyes clouded over. The desire we both felt hit like a tornado dropping unannounced from the sky. This time I didn’t pull my hand away, instead pulling his head down to meet mine. His lips touched mine, gently at first, then with a spark of ignition that urged us both deeper as his tongue pressed into my mouth. I turned in his lap until I was facing him, then wound my arms around his neck as he pressed closer, delved deeper.

  This kiss was different than the others we’d shared. More urgent. More explosive. Stars burst behind my eyes as his hand traveled down the front of my body, cupping my breast through my dress before he moved it down and flattened it over my belly. A moan escaped my mouth as his hand continued its path lower, over and inside of one thigh, pushing my legs apart. His hand moved under my dress and up my inner thigh until he stopped at my center. It was then that he broke the kiss. My eyes flew open, meeting his.

  “Are we doing this?” he murmured, stroking me through my panties, scrambling my thoughts.

  I tried to think but couldn’t. Tried to find a reason why but didn’t locate it. Whether from the late hour or because of my sleep-addled brain I didn’t know, but I nodded. I wanted this more than I had ever wanted anything.

  “Yes,” I rasped out the words for good measure.

  Henry didn’t waste any more time talking. His mouth slammed against mine, resuming his tongue’s assault on mine, leaving me breathless and panting. While he did that, his fingers pushed aside the scrap of lace covering the part of me he had been teasing so mercilessly before. My back arched off the couch as he pushed two fingers inside of me. I was soaked, waiting for his intrusion, my body clamping down on his fingers as he pulled them out and swirled them around my clit.

  “Oh God,” I moaned, my hands gripping the front of his shirt as he fingered the bundle of nerves into a frenzy.

  I bucked against his hand, the sensation growing, right at the precipice of an orgasm. He filled me with his fingers, pressing his thumb against my clit. I fell apart at his touch, the climax ripping through me so violently I clamped my legs together on his hand, crying out. But he didn’t stop touching me, didn’t let me have a moment’s rest. His fingers stroked me gently as he slipped out from underneath of me, resting my head gently against the couch cushion with his other hand as he stood up.

  When he removed his hand from between my legs to undress, I gasped at the lack of contact. Henry tore his shirt off over his head, yanking his sweats and boxer briefs down in one motion, before moving on to undress me. He lifted my dress over my head, tossing it away, moving on to my panties next, ripping them away. Before he came back to meet me, he leaned down, retrieving something from his pants pocket. A condom.

  He held it up to me and I shook my head. “I’m on the pill.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I nodded. “I’ve been tested. Haven’t you?” I said it in a way that implied it was stupid in today’s world not to be. With my history, I always used a condom.

  I felt differently with Henry, but I still wanted to be safe.

  “I have. Several times. But you never know.”

  “I’m clean,” I added.

  “That’s all I need to hear.” Henry tossed the condom aside, then his body covered mine, skin to skin, his erection heavy between my wide-spread legs, pressing at my entrance. I thrust my hips up to meet, urging him in, and he pressed inside me. He filled me, stretched me, settling deep inside before he drove into me. I gripped his ass with both hands, hiking my legs high on his back as he plunged deeper.

  A second orgasm began to build, swifter this time, as he alternated his pace, speeding up, then slowing down, but keeping a steady rhythm. I held onto him tighter, grinding my core against him, chasing the orgasm until I was on the brink. We fell together, coming at the
same time, spiraling down into ecstasy with groans and cries, gripping each other tighter.

  When we finally came down, our breathing evening out, our bodies cooling, we still clung to each other, afraid to let go because morning was dawning, and it was almost time for him to leave. Instead of rushing to get up and get dressed, we lay in each other’s arms, stroking each other without saying a word.

  Goodbye would come soon enough.

  Chapter 21

  Henry

  I woke to the sound of pounding on my apartment door. Nicolette lay against my chest, our legs tangled together under the small throw blanket we’d pulled over us after the second time we made love. She groaned as she opened her eyes, looking up at me.

  “What’s that?” she asked, rubbing her face.

  “That would be my mother,” I said unperturbed.

  Nicolette was a different story. “What?!” She jumped up from the couch, taking the blanket with her, leaving me naked.

  Her eyes traveled down my body, with appreciation but also agitation. “Henry, get up and put your clothes on.”

  I chuckled at her urgency. “She doesn’t have a key. Relax. She can wait.”

  Nicolette opened her mouth to answer me when my mother’s voice came from outside the door. “Henry, I know you’re in there. Don’t think that you can get out of this just because you won’t let me in. I’ll get the super.”

  “Shit,” Nicolette hissed, scrambling for her clothes on the floor before disappearing into the bathroom down the hall.

  My laugh followed her. I stood up slowly, stretching out the kinks from sleeping on the couch. In no rush, I gathered my clothes from the floor, pulling them on a piece at a time just to make my mother wait longer.

  “Henry James Radcliffe-Rogers,” I heard her say in her sternest voice from outside the door.

  I rolled my eyes. That hadn’t worked when I was a child and it wouldn’t work now.

  “I’m coming, Mother. Simmer down. You wouldn’t want to make a scene in front of the neighbors.” I smirked even though she couldn’t see me.

  When I finally opened the door a moment later, my mother was red-faced and fuming.

  “What took you so long? You aren’t trying to get out of rehab, are you?” She strode into the room, wrinkling her nose. “You should really have my cleaning service come and take care of this mess.” She looked around in exasperation.

  “It’s nice to see you, too, Mother,” I said, backing into the room as I closed the door behind her.

  “Honestly, Henry, do you always have to act like I’m the bad guy?”

  I didn’t answer her, figuring it was a rhetorical question. Nicolette stayed hidden in the bathroom and I wondered when she was going to reappear. I refused to leave without saying goodbye to her. My mother would just have to wait.

  “You and Jackson went out last night.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes, Mother. To his club. Is that not allowed?”

  “Well, you’re the one who said you wanted to stop drinking,” she said, judgment in her eyes.

  I walked into the kitchen, flipped on the coffee machine, and set a fresh mug underneath before pushing a single-use pod into it.

  “Consider it one last hurrah,” I said flippantly as I prepared my coffee.

  My mother huffed behind me. I knew she was waiting to kick my butt into gear, to hurry me along. But I refused to be hurried when she’d bullied me into this in the first place.

  “Must you move so slow? I assume you’re packed and ready to leave?”

  I looked back at her, my coffee cup blocking the smirk on my lips. “Not at all, actually. I was going to do that now. Would you like a cup of coffee while you wait?”

  She let out an exasperated puff of air. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get started,” she said, waving her hand frantically at my cup of coffee.

  “Is there a specific time I’m supposed to be there?” I asked her, being serious for the first time.

  “No, but I’d like to get it over with.”

  Just then, Nicolette entered the room. My mother’s eyes widened at the sight of her. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, tendrils framing her face. She stood barefoot, dressed in last night’s dress.

  “Hello, Mrs. Radcliffe-Rogers,” Nicolette said primly. Her eyes shot to me, worry in their depths. But I shook my head slightly to let her know it was okay.

  “Nicolette, what are you doing here?” My mother’s hand went to her pearls. She was nervous.

  “I, uh, spent the night. On the couch,” she added. I hid my smirk at the accuracy of that statement but how it implied nothing happened.

  “Oh, well.” For once, my mother was at a loss for words.

  “Would you like some coffee, Nic?” I asked as she walked into the kitchen, standing next to me at the counter.

  Though I could tell Nicolette was anxious because my mother was here, she also didn’t shy away from me when I put my arm out and pulled her into my side. She tilted her head up, her sky-blue eyes meeting mine. I could see in them that she was telling me that she stood by me, that she was on my side even if it would cost her the dream job she had always wanted. A job I quite literally sold my soul to the devil to help her get.

  Something inside of me broke free at everything I saw in her eyes. Something I had been trying to deny for over a week.

  It made me want to stand up to my mother, if for no other reason than to let her know that I wasn’t going to deal with her trying to control my life anymore

  “Yes, please,” Nicolette answered me.

  I walked over to the coffee machine and repeated my earlier steps with another mug and coffee pod. “Where’s Dad?” I asked as I busied myself making Nicolette’s coffee.

  My mother didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched out so long that I thought she hadn’t heard me. But when I turned around, the look on her face told me everything I needed to know.

  “You didn’t tell him what you did, did you?” I handed Nicolette her coffee as I confronted my mother.

  “Harry, I—” she began.

  “Don’t ‘Harry’ me, Mother. You know exactly what you did. Blackmail. You blackmailed me to get what you want. That’s why Dad isn’t here, right? You didn’t tell him anything about our arrangement.” I pointed my finger in her face as I spoke.

  My mother’s eyes shot to Nicolette and back at me before she spoke again. “Watch what you say, Henry.”

  “She knows, Mother. Nicolette knows all about the arrangement. I told her yesterday.”

  My mother gasped, her hands going to her pearls again. “This is why I’m sending you away. You will not slander this family anymore if I can help it.” She turned on her heel and marched to the door. “I’ll be waiting in the car. When you’re ready, come down. Let’s get this over with.”

  I watched my mother leave, her back stiff, a line between her brows. She was furious, and I hoped she wouldn’t take it out on Nicolette. If I knew my mother at all, she would honor the deal only to make sure that it didn’t leak that I was in rehab.

  “Henry,” Nicolette said softly from behind me. She placed her hand gently on my forearm.

  I turned around and pulled her to my chest. The need to feel something besides scorn and shame overcame me, and I leaned down, slanting my mouth over hers, the taste of coffee and toothpaste mingling between us as I kissed her deeply.

  “She wants to hurt me. She always has. But I can’t let it get to me or I’ll never get sober.” I let go of Nicolette as I spoke, rushing down the hall to my room to pack a bag.

  “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I won’t take the job. She won’t have anything to hold over you. I don’t think you need rehab to get sober, Henry. I don’t.” Nicolette followed me down the hall.

  She perched on the edge of my king bed, her hands folded in her lap as I threw items from my closet and dresser into a suitcase. I packed underwear, t-shirts, sweatpants, hoodies and basketball shorts. There’d be no need for desig
ner suits in rehab.

  “I can’t let you do that. This is what you’ve always wanted. I’ll be fine. I need to dry out. I need some time away from her,” I said as I balled up a t-shirt that was on the floor. It was most likely dirty, but I tossed it into my bag regardless.

  Nicolette was silent as I worked, moving into the bathroom and tossing shampoo, razor, and soap into a bag. They’d probably confiscate my razors, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to get the whole charade over with.

  “Do you need time away from me?” Her voice was small, and I was taken aback at the question.

  I whipped around, dropping the toiletry bag on top of my suitcase.

  “What?” I wasn’t sure I’ heard her right. Because how could I need time away from her?

  “Is this moving too fast? I know I said I wanted to be friends but there’s a reason for that and I . . .”

  I held up a hand. “Don’t. I’ll be gone for a month, Nic. Let’s leave it the way we left it. Okay?”

  I walked over to her, put my hands on her shoulders, spread my legs wide around hers and looked down at her. She looked so small sitting there on my large bed. I wanted to scoop her up, place her back at the top, and lay down with her. But there was no time for that. It would have to wait.

  “What if, when you come back, something has changed? Between us, I mean.”

  I could tell there was more she didn’t want to say—or wouldn’t let herself say.

  “It won’t. Whatever this is between us, it will still be there when I get back. I can feel it.” I wanted to tell her that I was falling for her, that there was no way I could shake the feeling even if I wanted to. But now was not the time to make a grand declaration.

  “I don’t know what this is, Henry. I just know I want to be around you. To be with you. I’ve never wanted that before. Not like this,” she said, her eyes boring into mine.