Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
NOW
I’d been so excited by the prospect of pancakes, I’d forgotten to ask if they were vegan. The thought only occurred to me now, when they were already piled beautifully high on a plate between Henry and me.
And I didn’t want to be that person.
The batter had been meal-prepped—of course it had—so I didn’t see him make it. I couldn’t have even tried to subtly smell it for any residual eggy scent, because I’d been feverishly scribbling down the information I hadn’t recorded while he was preparing breakfast.
When I’d still been a frequent visitor in this apartment, I knew he’d always had cartons of oat milk in storage and his pancake recipe was vegan. Now that I hadn’t been here in a year, things could’ve changed. They probably had.
“You’re not eating,” Henry noticed, and he was clearly trying to figure out why. His fork stopped midway to his mouth, and he narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
“I—” My eyes flicked to the pancakes on the plate in front of me, the blueberries to one side and the maple syrup on the other. I wanted to lie. Say I wasn’t hungry and not bother anyone with my personal food preferences. But I was hungry, and I didn’t think I could go another few hours without turning into hangry Godzilla. “Are they—??”
“Yes.” Before I’d even posed the question, Henry answered it. “They are.”
I blinked at him. “Vegan?”
“ Yes .” He rolled his eyes, smiling. “I knew you’d probably be coming around. So.” Trailing off, he gestured to the stack of pancakes, half of the original pile already on his plate. The other half was now on its way to mine.
And while I smothered them in maple syrup, I tried not to swoon at how thoughtful the whole thing was. Instead, I tried to keep my composure.
Not very well.
“Ah.” I cleared my throat. “Thanks for that.”
Instead of sounding composed, I just felt awkward. A little rude. So, I did the one thing I knew I could and put my metaphorical journalist-glasses back on.
“You haven’t secretly taken up a plant-based diet, then?” I asked, amusement edging into my tone.
He shook his head in answer, swallowing before he sighed, “I know, I know.” His hands raised in mock surrender. “I’m an awful person. I’d love to try it for a month, though. Just to see how it would affect me, my body.” He shrugged sheepishly. “Didn’t really want to risk it right before the draft, though.”
“Fair enough,” I muttered through a full mouth. “I probably get about ten grams of protein a day. Turns out, instant ramen isn’t very nutritious.”
Henry gasped. “Who would’ve thought.”
“I know right?”
When I looked down, failing miserably at hiding my smile, with gut-clenching clarity I realized something fatal. I was enjoying this— him , way too much.
And I couldn’t have that.
To think of literally anything else, my eyes roamed the familiar apartment. Its white, modern furniture hadn’t changed. As usual, there wasn’t a single thing out of its designated space. There were actual coffee table books on the coffee table. The remote laid in front of the TV. Keys on the sideboard by the door and jackets on the rack beside it. It was just so Henry.
“Do you still live with them?” I asked absentmindedly, only now noticing the unusual quiet. Heather and Reuben had never been known to be quiet .
“No.” And it kind of surprised me. “I know.” He went on. “It’s weird without them, right? Quiet.” He pondered over the fact, grimacing at his next words. “But I prefer the quiet to sharing my space with two people who can’t keep their hands off each other. Only a matter of time until I would’ve walked in on them. They moved out a month ago.”
“No!” I gasped. “I didn’t know they were—I thought Reuben would die before he’d make a move.”
Henry laughed, the sound rich as it hummed between us. “He probably would have. Heather did.”
“Figured,” I huffed. “Good for her, though.” Looking around once more, I added, “And you, I guess. Three bedrooms, huge living space, a kitchen to die for. And you’ve got it all to yourself.” The perfect bachelor pad was an afterthought I decided not to voice out loud. It made my insides clench.
He hummed, not quite in agreement. “It gets pretty lonely.”
“No bachelor pad, then?”
“What?”
My head shot in his direction. “What?”
By his smug expression I figured, yes, I really had just said that out loud.
“Not quite a bachelor pad, no,” he said knowingly. But instead of wanting the ground to open up beneath me from mortification, the first thing his words did was soothe that unjustified jealousy in the back of my mind.
I shrugged, convincing myself the burning of my cheeks was natural. “You know,” I tried to say casually. I probably failed.
“Do I?”
“Just saying because people might expect you to enjoy those single years at college before going off into the big league.” Excellent save, if I do say so myself.
“People?” Henry’s brows rose.
“People that probably want to know what you get up to when you’re not lightly jogging, lifting weights or… letting goals through the HBU defense.” If there was one thing Henry didn’t do, it was letting things through their defense.
“ They’d want to know?”
“Mhm,” I mumbled around the bite I’d taken to do anything other than look at him. “I’m sure they would.”
Henry snickered in amusement, leaning back into his chair on the other long side of the dining table. “But you obviously have no interest in that?”
“No!” But it was too quick. I settled back, took a second before I elaborated. “Why would I?”
Henry didn’t say anything else, just looked at me. I suspected he knew I was currently melting under his gaze, and he enjoyed that, too.
“It’s not like you care,” I started, and once I trailed off, there was no stopping it. I had no idea what would come out of my mouth next. “What or… who I do, I mean.”
No one , by the way. Although Jack had kindly offered twice, and it’s not like he wasn’t good enough. He was fine—probably more than fine. He just wasn’t…
My eyes trailed to Henry again, his pink lips, the brown middle part on top of his head, and the way he was looking at me so unapologetically thoroughly. Which was when I realized he just wasn’t him . That was the only thing wrong with Jack.
My head shook, and I rambled on, scared the silence that lingered had become too long, too deafening. “I mean, it’s been ages! So I don’t care either. Obviously.” And then, of course, I topped it all off with a nervous laugh. “You’re being ridiculous.”
Henry blinked slowly, then brought the glass of orange juice to his lips. He took a sip without breaking our eye contact.
“You’re right,” he said grandly, playing it back on the table. “I’m the one being ridiculous.”
“Are you saying it’s me ?”
“Oh God, Paula. What would give you that idea?”
I huffed at his words, head shaking when I relaxed back into my chair. Just… pretend that never happened.
“What’s next on your agenda?” I asked in an attempt, watching him get up to take our plates into the kitchen. I followed him with the maple syrup and empty blueberry bowl.
“Shower.” He quickly checked the time around his wrist. “Right about now. We’ll get to the field by 11:30 and I’ll just be kicking around until three.”
By kicking around, he probably meant going about carefully crafted routines he didn’t want to bother explaining to me.
“Practice is until five, and…” This was where he hesitated. “The boys are going out to celebrate… something. Honestly, I’m not even sure myself.” His head shook in amusement. “Obviously you’re free to go home. Partying isn’t really part of my usual routine. So.” He shrugged, trailed off.
So.
“Oh.” I really did need to get down some notes on today’s stuff, maybe start transcribing some of the audio, too. But only an hour ago, I’d claimed to be all in. And where would I be able to get better material than with Henry and his team on a night out?
I said what any sensible journalist would. “All in, remember?”