Chapter Thirteen
Alex
I wanted to pretend that I didn’t miss Henry bothering me at Novel Tea all weekend, but I knew it was lie. Every time I heard the bell or Spencer stuck his head around the office door to tell me something, my heart raced in the vague hope it might be him.
It never was, and by Sunday afternoon I was getting pretty fucking sick of it. If I’d wanted my heart to race this much, I’d have run a fucking marathon.
The really irritating part was I couldn’t tell anyone about it. Well, I could have but I didn’t want to. I knew I’d have to come clean to my friends at some point, but I also knew they’d ask a fuckton of questions and I didn’t have the energy to deal with that.
I couldn’t tell Henry I’d missed him either because then he might think I was developing feelings for him, and that couldn’t happen.
There was a reason I’d kept myself so closed off and his name was Michael Varley.
He’d shattered my heart into a million pieces when I was twenty-one and I’d never been the same since.
I’d thought about him more times in the past few weeks than I had in years.
Deep down, I knew the way I’d dealt with Michael’s abandonment wasn’t healthy but I was too stubborn to change.
If I did, I’d have to look closely at everything that had happened and relive our breakup over and over again, and I’d already done that enough times to last a lifetime. It was easier just to be alone.
When I left Novel Tea on Sunday, I was pretty sure everyone was glad to see the back of me.
I’d been a mardy asshole all weekend and Spencer looked ready to throttle me.
I walked back home with my hand clutched around my phone in the pocket of my hoodie, pulling it out every few steps to see if Henry had messaged me again.
We’d been chatting off and on while he was away, and I’d never felt so attached to my phone. It was another thing that was irritating me, but every time I’d seen Henry’s name pop up, I’d felt a little wave of calm wash over me. It wasn’t as good as seeing him in person, but it was enough.
That realisation made me growl, the sound slipping through my lips and bouncing around the empty street.
Fuck! Why was I suddenly so dependent on Henry to feel something that wasn’t irritation? I hated it. I hated it more than I’d ever hated anything except Michael.
Except… I didn’t hate it at all.
I liked that Henry wanted to talk to me.
I liked that someone was taking an interest in me and was happy to share their random thoughts and what they were doing.
Henry had sent me pictures of coffee and pastries, of Lincoln Cathedral, a candid picture of his brother, a photo of some board game they were playing, and a screenshot from a film they’d watched, all accompanied by his thoughts and opinions—a running commentary on his weekend.
It’d made me smile and laugh and want to respond in kind. I’d sent him a picture of some cakes Spencer had made, the sunset over the hills on Saturday night, and a rough picture of my TV while I played God of War with a packet of Jelly Babies resting in my lap where I was sat cross-legged.
It had all felt so natural and it terrified me. And I didn’t cope well with being angry and scared—I tended to lash out like a cornered stray, desperate not to let anyone get too close.
Even if I might’ve wanted them to.
By the time I got home, I found a message from Henry. Just seeing it made the storm clouds lurking around my heart part, casting a single ray of sunshine across the dark sky.
Henry
Finally on my way back! I was planning to leave earlier but Lewis made Sunday lunch and then I fell asleep.
Alex
Drive safe. Weather’s been pretty good so roads should be fine. Glad you had a good time.
Henry
Thanks! I’m just getting some petrol at Tesco.
Henry
By the way, do you like board games? I picked up a couple at the weekend and wondered if you’d like to meet up and play them during the week?
Alex
Sure. I’m not a big board game person but as long as they’re not too complex that sounds fun.
I bit my lip and turned my phone over in my hand, debating if I should send the message swirling around in my brain.
But if we were going to meet up and play, we only really had two options: Henry’s cottage or my flat.
If I went to his, there was a chance that more people would turn up and start asking questions.
I’d met Kane and Cas before, as well as Gemma and Tamsin, but the idea of spending time with them made me nervous.
They were lovely people from what Henry had said, but I didn’t know what he’d told them and I didn’t want to make myself look like a total twat.
Alex
Want to come to mine and play? I can make dinner too. Maybe Tuesday or Wednesday?
Henry
Wednesday would be perfect! I have dance rehearsals on Tuesday =’(
Alex
Cool, I’ll see you Wednesday. Drive safe x
I paced around the first floor of my flat, tapping my phone over and over to see the time, which seemed to have slowed to a crawl. Since when had a minute taken that long to pass?
Nerves bubbled in my stomach and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to throw up, scream, or smash something. I didn’t know where these feelings were coming from because it wasn’t like Henry was coming over for anything special. We were just going to have dinner and play games.
Together.
Alone.
Bile rose in my mouth and I swallowed it down. It left a burning, acrid taste in the back of my throat. I strode into the kitchen and grabbed a glass, filling it with water and quickly downing it, but it did nothing to take the taste away.
I wasn’t going to throw up. That would be fucking ridiculous.
The flat buzzer sounded and I jumped.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I muttered to myself as I put the empty glass in the sink and walked over to buzz Henry up. “Get a fucking grip.”
I pulled on the bottom of my hoodie, straightening it slightly, and wondered if I should’ve put something else on instead.
The hoodie was one of my better ones, with no holes, stains, or weird fading, but maybe just a T-shirt would have been better.
Or a jumper. Fuck, what did adults even wear around people they liked? Did I need to buy a brand-new wardrobe?
No, I told myself sharply. I didn’t need to do anything like that because this wasn’t real. Henry and I weren’t dating. We were barely friends, and if I didn’t care what the rest of my friends thought about the way I looked, then I didn’t need to care what Henry thought either.
The voice in my head began to argue, because I was a stubborn fucker inside and out, but luckily it got cut off by Henry knocking at the door.
“Hey,” he said as I pulled it open, giving me a beaming smile as he stepped inside. He toed off his shoes and left them neatly by the door, then looked around. “This is lovely.”
“Thanks,” I said. “It’s not bad. It’s a bit big for just me but the contract isn’t up until July and it’d cost me more to get out of it before then.”
“It’s always the way. Do you think you’ll move then?”
“Maybe. I might have to if they decide to put the rent up. It was okay when Noah was here but…” I trailed off and shook my head. Henry didn’t need to hear me whining about my financial woes. It wasn’t like he could do anything.
“Gah, that sucks. Well, if you need to move, let me know and I’ll come and help you pack,” he said, giving me such a genuine smile that it shook me to my core. “I promise to label everything properly and bring plenty of Sharpies. And I’m good at unpacking too—that’s always the worst part, I find.”
“T-thanks,” I said.
“Of course, what else are friends-slash-fake-boyfriends for?”
I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything. The way he’d so casually said fake made something sting in my chest and it made a new wave of nausea hit me. Fuck, I didn’t want this to be real. I really didn’t.
So why did it hurt, knowing he wasn’t going to stay when I’d known all along that was the plan?
“Alex? Are you okay?” Henry asked and I realised I’d been staring off into space.
“Yeah. Fine.”
“Are you sure? You don’t look it. Are you getting ill?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head.
“You look very pale.” He walked over to me and put his hand on my forehead.
His fingers were cool and I found myself leaning into his touch.
“You’re a bit warm too. I think you should sit down.
” His other hand reached out and slipped into mine, interlacing our fingers like he’d done it a million times before, and he led me over to the sofa. “Sit.”
I sat.
Henry crouched in front of me looking concerned.
We hadn’t been this close before and I could suddenly make out all the tiny details of his face, like the length of his eyelashes and the soft lines around his eyes.
His upper lip had the most beautiful deep Cupid’s bow that mesmerised me every time I saw it, and I wanted to reach out and run my finger along it.
I wondered if his lips were as soft as they looked…
I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d kissed a guy.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Henry asked softly.
“I’m fine, honestly.”
“You’re not. Please, Alex, let me at least get you a drink.”
“Fine, can I have some water, please? There’s a glass in the sink I used just before you got here,” I said.
He patted my knee and stood up. I turned my head and watched him walk over to the kitchen, fishing my glass out of the sink and filling it with water.
He brought it back over and handed it to me before sitting down next to me, his eyes fixed on me like he thought I was going to pass out.
I sipped the water slowly, the burning in my throat finally starting to recede.
“There,” Henry said. “Was that so hard?”
I chuckled. “Yes.”
“Are you always this stubborn?”
“Yes. Lane says I’m pigheaded.”
“How charming.”
“You’ll like him,” I said. “They’re a good bunch, all in all. You… you should meet them.”
“I’d like that.”