Chapter Twenty-Four - Mirabelle
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Mirabelle
HOLY FUCKING SHIT, I can’t breathe.
I seriously think I’m going to suffocate in the car before we get to the game because Henry has stolen all the oxygen out of my lungs with how unbelievably hot he looks. It should seriously be illegal for Henry to look that damn good in a backward hat. Like seriously?
It might have even saved him from jumping into the pool with me yesterday if he had decided to rock that look sooner.
I’m not saying my heart wouldn’t still be shattered in a thousand pieces over my brothers, but it would have been a nice little bandage to tape the pieces back together.
I feel dumb I gave Henry the list already because I would have added that I’d like to be fucked by him in that goddamn hat.
Honestly, it’s been a great distraction from thinking about what else Hunter could say tonight that would pour salt on the already gaping wound in my chest. Bailey’s definitely not going to be there, though, so I guess that saves me from one of them.
Henry shifts in his seat, his large hands holding the steering wheel tightly, and I take a deep breath, forcing myself to look out the window. This is going to be the longest drive of my life. I should have waited to give the list to Henry, but I was afraid I’d chicken out.
So I slid it under the door, and hid in my room trying not to have a panic attack about the things I put on the list until Henry said it was time to go.
I’m assuming that by the way he stared at me before we left, he definitely saw it.
Henry clears his throat and turns down the radio. “So . . .”
I start fidgeting with my necklace. “So . . .”
“You put the sex list on a to-do list?”
“I thought it was funny,” I defend myself, turning to look at him. He’s chuckling, a small smile forming.
“It is funny,” he agrees, and I relax a little in my seat. “Is there anything I should know?”
“What?” I ask, confused.
“You put question marks next to a few of the items,” he continues, and my cheeks flush. If I want to do the things on the list with Henry, then I can suck it up and talk about them with him.
“Yes,” I say, and Henry glances my direction. God, it’s so not fair how hot he looks right now. I can barely think straight.
“Is there a reason you had question marks next to them?”
“Can you turn your hat the right way?” I blurt out, and a beautiful— yet, infuriatingly knowing —smile forms on his lips.
“Is it bothering you?”
“It’s distracting.”
Henry laughs quietly but makes no move to switch it. “I think the same thing when you wear those death traps to work.”
Death traps? He likes my heels? It catches me off guard enough that I stammer out an answer to his question because talking about our sex list is somehow easier than asking more about how distracting my heels are. “Um, well, I wasn’t sure about putting them on the list, so I thought I’d ask you about them to see if they were anything you were interested in? I mean, we don’t have to do anything on that list if you don’t want to do it,” I explain quickly, and Henry reaches over to hold my hand.
My heart stutters in my chest as I look down at it, realizing the cuticle on my thumb is raw.
“Mira, I told you I’d do anything you wanted. I didn’t see anything on the list that made me uncomfortable, but I wanted to ask about the question marks to make sure we’re on the same page,” he says calmly, and it’s honestly a relief that he’s being so nonchalant about this, because I feel like my lungs are going to collapse.
“So you’re okay with everything on it?” I ask, needing to hear him say it clearly.
“I’m more than okay with everything on the list. I promise I’d tell you if I wasn’t.” Henry squeezes my hand reassuringly, and I feel a little better. “I’m looking forward to going three for three in the bonus points department, though,” he teases, and my eyes bug out of my head. I only put the bonus points on there as a bucket list sort of thing. Like, hey, it’s great if it happens, but no hard feelings if it doesn’t? I didn’t expect Henry to take this so seriously.
“You’re talking a pretty big game,” I choke out. Oh my god.
Henry brushes his lips over my knuckles, gently kissing the back of my hand. “I think we both know I can back it up after I helped you orgasm only by kissing you and playing with your nipple.”
“Fine. If you can go three for three in the bonus points, I’ll do something you want to do,” I say, feeling the butterflies in my chest start to flutter.
“I like a challenge, but I don’t need a prize. I’ll already have you.”
You already have me . Instead, I shake my head. “Whatever you say.”
It’s unfair that Henry gets to look the way he does, and say things like that. I’m going to throw away all his hats because I’m struggling to think straight.
“Do you want us to plan out when we’re going to cross things off the list, or keep it spontaneous?” he asks, rubbing his thumb back and forth on my hand.
“I think spontaneous would be better, but I think it’s important for both parties to be able to say no if they’re not in the mood.”
Henry nods, his face growing serious. “If it’s not consensual, it’s not happening. I promise you won’t hurt my feelings if you tell me no at any point. I’d rather you enjoy yourself than agree just because you think I want you to. This is for you, not for me.”
“Well, I want you to enjoy yourself too. If I wanted to practice with something inanimate, I’d just buy a dildo,” I argue, and Henry chuckles.
“As much as I’d like to see that, I will definitely be enjoying myself. I don’t want you to worry about that,” Henry says, and I think someone needs to pinch me right now. There’s no way this is my reality.
Is this what it’s like to show someone every side of you and they still don’t run? If I wasn’t in love with Henry before, I’d surely be in love with him now.
Maybe I should be more concerned about the repercussions of all these decisions, but right now, I’m willing to accept everything will be fine.
The screen in Henry’s car shows an incoming call from Allison Price, and Henry’s entire demeanor shifts as he blinks at it. He lets go of my hand to decline it, and I swallow all my questions, instead opting to pull out my phone to let my parents know we’re on our way.
~
Growing up as a prodigy in the world of gymnastics, combined with my parents being who they are, I’m no stranger to people taking pictures of me and my family. Henry’s attempt to be inconspicuous was a fail from the moment we got out of the car, even after he turned his hat around the right way to hide his face. However, I grossly underestimated how many pictures Henry and I would be asked to pose for with fans, both together and separately.
I’ve tried not to let it get to me, but it’s made it difficult to watch the game. Thankfully, after Hunter threw his first touchdown, the attention shifted away from us.
The team we’re playing is good, and unfortunately for us, our defense isn’t as strong as our offense. We’re only halfway through the first half, but it’s becoming clear our offense is the only reason the team made it to this game.
Hunter has been holding out hope for Duke, but when I finally called JJ yesterday, he mentioned that Hunter received offers from UCLA and Clemson this week because he’s one of the top recruits in his class. He and Bailey had a plan, before everything went to shit this fall for both of them to attend Duke together, but I have a feeling that’s changed.
I turn to look at Henry, pulling his attention from the field. “Do you see how many recruiters are here?”
“I’m not surprised. JJ’s killing it at Beaumont and is proof that you aren’t the only Walker who got your father’s athleticism. Hunter will have his pick of schools.”
“He wanted to earn it on his talent, not on his name.”
Henry leans forward in his seat, clasping his hands in front of him. “I know, but unfortunately, they’re one and the same. Recruiting out of high school is a gamble because these players are untested against the pressures of playing for a college, but Hunter’s different.”
“He’s holding out for Duke,” I say, but I know Henry knows this. Sometimes I forget that Henry isn’t just mine, he’s close with my brothers too.
“They’re here,” he says, tilting his head to where I see a man wearing the colors of our alma mater, hovering on the end.
I squint, trying to make sure that’s who I think it is. “Wait, isn’t that—”
Henry nods slowly. “Coach Harris himself.” Ian Harris was the head coach at Duke when Henry was there a couple years ago. I’ve had a couple conversations with him at fundraisers my family attends, since Dad is a notable alumnus who donates to the program.
“Did you call him?” I ask.
“No, but I told Hunter last year if he ever wanted me to put in a good word, I would. Hunt refused, and I respect his decision. It could be a good sign he came himself instead of sending an assistant coach. Harris came to my game the same day he offered me my spot,” Henry says, and I had no idea Henry offered to do that for Hunter. This is the version of Henry I wish everyone else could see.
Hunter looks up at the stands, his blond hair slicked back with sweat, and he grins at me so widely I can’t help but return it, despite the tears that spring into my eyes. Shit, I can’t remember the last time he smiled at me like that. It feels like everything will be okay.
I’m glad we came.
I spot my mom near the fence at the front of the bleachers, her camera in hand, while Dad is hovering behind her with Henry’s parents. Dad greeted Henry warmly earlier, but I didn’t miss the tension between Henry and his father.
“Are you going to talk to your parents tonight?” I ask after a couple more plays.
“Mom and I talk all the time,” he answers, and I remember the last time I talked to Chris. Everything has been so crazy I forgot to mention to Henry how I told our dads about his biological mom calling. I wonder if Chris or my dad said anything to him about it?
“And your dad?” I prod, and Henry shrugs.
“He called after we got back from everything with the twins the other day, but I didn’t call him back. It’ll be fine, though.”
“I’m sorry.”
Henry looks at me, his hazel eyes swirling with confusion. “Why are you apologizing?”
“Because I shouldn’t have brought this up. It’s supposed to be a fun night.”
He bumps my leg with his, a faint smile forming. “I am having fun. I’m with you, watching my little sister cheer under Friday night lights. How could I not be having fun?” he asks, and I relax a little.
“I’m excited to hang out with Kaitlyn tonight,” I say, and his smile becomes more prominent.
“Yeah?”
I nod, turning my attention back to the field. “Yep. We’ll have a great time.” Is it delusional of me to think that the longer we pretend to be a couple, the easier it will be for Henry to fall for me? Absolutely, but it’s not stopping me from doing it.
Henry has been doing everything he can to not bring attention to us, but that mindset disappears entirely once the cheerleaders begin their performance at halftime. He whistles so loudly that Kaitlyn looks up to see us, and I love watching her eyes light up as she smiles wider in our direction.
“She’s amazing,” he says, smiling proudly, and I can’t help but smile too.
“Kaitlyn’s amazing,” I echo, agreeing with him as she performs flawlessly with the rest of her squad, and Henry resumes cheering loudly for her.
Dad approaches us up the stairs and it’s honestly such a relief that we’re not fighting anymore. “Price, you want to go talk to Harris with me?” he asks, and the fact he’s making an effort with Henry nearly brings me to tears after the rollercoaster this week has been.
“Sure, as long as I don’t have to hear you relive your glory days,” Henry jests, and Dad scoffs.
“You’re a starter for half a season and are already losing respect for your elders. I can’t wait to hear what Harris has to say about this.”
Henry looks at me, his face softer than it was a moment ago. “Are you good if I go?”
I blink in surprise. “You don’t have to ask me for permission.”
“Well, I don’t want to leave you here with the wolves by yourself,” he says, lowering his voice as he tilts his head in the direction of the teenage girls eyeing us like we’re prey.
“They’re teenage girls, not wolves,” I remind him, but I’m absolutely hopeless and unable to resist smiling. “I’m going to go find my mom and Penelope,” I add.
Henry’s shoulders visibly relax, and he leans down to kiss my cheek, nearly sending my heart into a different rhythm. “Have fun.” He winks, and Dad raises his eyebrows, but says nothing.
I take a moment to answer the text Emily sent me earlier to let her know I gave him the list, making my way down to where Mom and Penelope are standing.
“Hey, guys,” I greet, pulling my braid over my shoulder.
“Enjoying the game?” Penelope asks, her eyes sparkling with joy.
“I am. Defense sucks, but Hunt’s keeping it interesting.”
Mom shakes her head in disbelief. “Aren’t they awful? The least they could do is try to give the offense a moment to breathe before throwing them back out there, instead of letting the other team’s offense score right away.”
A parent walking past us glares, and Mom starts to lift her hand, but I push it down before she can flip them off. “Mom,” I scold as Penelope laughs.
“Oh, Mirabelle. You should have let Lia flip her off. Her kid is the one who didn’t block the wide receiver on that last play before halftime.”
“Yeah, her kid sucks, and she has the nerve to look at me that way after buying his spot on the team? My kid is the only reason we’re still in this game,” Mom says, sticking her tongue out at the woman’s back. Oh my god, my mother is a child. I don’t have the brain capacity for this.
I’m glad to see her in better spirits than earlier in the week, but this seems a little petty. “ Mom ,” I repeat, and she rolls her eyes.
“What?”
“I feel like as your child, I shouldn’t have to tell you to be nice.”
Mom pulls her hair back into a clip. “Then don’t.”
Penelope covers her mouth to smother her laughter as I gape at my mother. “How do you even know she bought his spot on the team?”
She points to the giant scoreboard. “Because Dean’s mom told me they donated last year, and then he magically started getting playing time after it went up. Plus, the offensive coordinator told your dad.”
Shit, maybe I should have gone with Henry.
I look over to where Henry had been, surprised to see him already returning as the announcer starts to speak over the intercom, announcing the second half of the game. I immediately spot the stony look on Henry’s face, and worry blooms in my chest.
Henry pushes a smile on his face, but it’s the fakest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. What the hell happened in that conversation?
“Why are you smiling like that?” Penelope asks him, and he forces a laugh.
“Mom, am I not allowed to smile?”
My mom looks at him skeptically now. “You don’t normally smile, unless you’re looking at my daughter when you think no one is watching, but that’s not your smile. It’s too wide.”
Wait, what?
I look at her in surprise and Henry laughs. “This is a smile.” He didn’t deny that he smiles at me when he thinks no one is looking. Does Henry actually do that? Wait—this isn’t the right time to get sidetracked by that.
“That’s not your smile. I would know. Your smile is beautiful, but this one looks like someone is ripping out your fingernails while asking you to smile,” I blurt out, and then I slap my hand over my mouth as Henry blinks, and his actual smile starts to appear. Oh my fucking god.
“You think my smile is beautiful?”
Maybe I don’t want to die of embarrassment right now, because yeah, I do think it’s beautiful.
The moments over when Mom snaps her fingers in front of my face, catching both of our attention again. “You two can flirt later. I’m still stuck on what happened before he came back over.”
“It’s nothing. The game is starting again, and we’re going back to our seats because I’m over the twenty questions about my face,” Henry says, grabbing my hand to pull me with him.
I have so many questions, but I’m afraid to open my mouth because I’m not sure what’s going to come out of it.
I follow his lead, but when we get to the top of the bleachers, Henry turns around and kisses me out of nowhere. I open my mouth in surprise, and Henry greedily takes advantage of it. I instinctively hold onto his arm and the front of his jacket as Henry takes my breath away, but it doesn’t last long. As quickly as it starts, he pulls away, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “I think your smile is beautiful too,” he says softly, and I feel dazed by the intensity of my feelings for him.
I want more, but maybe that’s the problem.
I’m always wanting more of Henry, and he’s not mine to have.