51. Chapter 48
T he days leading up to the gala have been tense, to say the least. Meeting with Dr. Laurier during the last two sessions has helped me with the space Henry asked for after Thanksgiving. He helped me understand that it’s not because I deserve it but because it gives us both time to process the trauma and hurt I caused.
Though I haven’t been able to keep my hands to myself for the past few days, I can’t help it. Being able to even be near Henry is a gift, and although I’m giving him space, I still seek him out in every room.
Charlie spent the majority of her free time after her finals here at the house with us, but now she’s got to go home. Her father called, and this time, she couldn’t give him an excuse to stay since the gala is happening tomorrow. Romero must be paranoid for him to be so controlling. We’re engaged, doing what normal engaged couples do. However, his insistence that she needs to be home before the gala makes me uneasy, but Charlie swears she’s going to be okay.
I drove her back to Gravity Hill University, where she packed up her room for the winter break.
“If he hurts you, call me,” I tell her while she packs her bags into the car her father sent for her. Talon waits in my car because Creed didn’t want me to be alone with Romero, should he actually show up for his daughter.
“I won’t, but it means a lot, Pretty Boy.” With a hug goodbye, she slips into the car, and they drive off. Wiping my hand down my face, I walk back to my car and drop into the driver's seat.
“He won’t hurt her, Banks. At least not until after the gala.” Tal reminds me.
“I’m more worried she might not even make it till then.”
Henry went with Fern to the bakery before Tal and I left with Charlie. I wanted so badly to kiss him goodbye. Instead, we exchanged heated glances until Fern ushered him out the door.
I drop Tal off at the house and drive straight to Fern and Flourished. I have to see him.
Walking in, I find Candy at the counter talking to a customer, and she flicks her head toward the kitchen. I should have known that’s where he’d be.
Slipping into the kitchen as quietly as I can, I find him with flour covering his apron and a rolling pin in his hands. There’s a huge ball of dough in front of him and a smile on his lips as he talks animatedly to Fern.
She spots me but doesn’t let on. Watching him enjoy doing what he loves is something I could do for hours. Pressing the marble pin into the dough, he flattens it with well-practiced movements.
There is so much dough he has to stretch over it, his hair tied back into a messy bun because of how long it’s gotten. The way a few curls slip out makes me hungry to push them back behind his ear.
He glances my way but continues to roll the dough, then stops what he’s doing to stand and look back as if he’s surprised I’m here.
“What are you doing here?” His voice wavers a little. I caught him off guard.
“Watching you,” I answer, leaning against the door frame and crossing my arms.
“Why?”
“Because you’re sexy as fuck when you’re covered in flour,” I smirk at the color filling his cheeks. He doesn’t respond, just stands there looking at me. Our eyes are locked in a stand-off, and neither one of us budges. I meant every word, and if I knew Fern wouldn’t kill me, I’d drop to my knees right fucking now and worship him.
As if he can sense my dirty thoughts, he licks his lips.
“I’m working,” he swallows and goes back to rolling dough.
“I can see that.”
“You should leave.” He mutters, shaking his head and huffing out a breath.
“I think I’ll stay,” I tease, “I quite like the view.”
He stops and looks up at the ceiling. Fern’s slipped away by now, and the only other people in the kitchen are Harley, who’s been here since the start and ignores everyone for the most part, and Zeke, the new guy.
Fern and Candy seem to like him. He’s older, quiet, and hums to himself while he works.
“Banks,” Henry’s words bring my eyes to his. “What are you doing?”
“I told you, I like watching you work,” I lift one shoulder and purse my lips.
“If you’re just going to stand there, maybe you could help get this shit out of the way instead,” Harley gripes and points to all of the bulk supplies that must have been delivered this morning. “Be useful, for once.”
“Hello to you too, Harls,” I smile, and she rolls her eyes, shakes her head, and grumbles something about pretty boys with no use.
Walking around the table Henry’s working at, I run my hand along his side as I pass. “I guess it’s your turn to watch me work.”
His sharp inhale is the only indication that I still affect him, but it’s something, and I’m greedy enough to take it. The fifty-pound bags of sugar are no problem to throw over my shoulder since I’m used to it with football training, and I ask Harley where she wants them to go. I can feel Henry’s eyes track my every movement, I just wish I could see his face.
I know he loves my arms and back muscles He’s said it a million times. Making quick work of the sugar, flour, and whatever else they work with, I turn to see Henry in the same position as when I started. The only difference is his reddened cheeks and glossy eyes. He’s thinking dirty things. I can see it.
He coughs when our eyes meet, as if he’s pulling himself out of his own head, and resumes rolling.
Letting out a sigh, I walk back around him, heading for the door. His hand shoots out and grips my wrist. “Here,” he hands me a cookie cutter in a shape I can’t make out. “Help me cut these?”
Looking between him and the silver cookie cutter, I smile and nod.