Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Henry
S he officially had my attention. So much so, I struggled to focus on whatever the fuck Jace tried talking to me about as we walked to the bar, with Phoebe and Rhea leading the way.
I had one thing on my mind as it sauntered in front of me: that arse in that wet bikini.
We’d almost made it to the bar, and I’d been lost in the fantasies of what I’d do to that incredible body of hers, when Phoebe came to a slow stop in front of us to dig around in her beach bag with a small scowl on her face.
When she pulled her phone out, her face paled at whatever she saw on the screen before she took the call.
“Hello?” I heard her say before she turned her back on us for some privacy.
Jace, Rhea, and I carried on up a few small steps that led onto the patio area of the beach bar, where Bailey and Andy were sitting, looking very cute and cosy.
Bailey had a regal glow about her that held everyone's attention, especially my so-called ‘brother’s’, and it wasn't long before she led the conversation, telling tales of her life back in England, drawing everyone in.
Everyone expect me.
I couldn't take my eyes off Phoebe on the sand below, still occupied on her call, her body stiff as she ran a hand through her hair.
I wasn't an expert on much, but I knew when someone was trying hard to keep their shit together in public. Whoever had called her obviously hadn’t had good news to share.
“Something's wrong,” Rhea said as she studied Phoebe, too.
“What?” Jace asked, looking around in confusion.
“Just… wait here.” Rhea rose up and out of her seat before walking down to be by Phoebe’s side.
“What's going on?” Jace asked the rest of us.
“I don't know,” Bailey muttered quietly, narrowing her eyes and sitting up straighter. “I think... Oh, shit.”
Just like that, she rose out of her chair, too.
When I turned back to look at Phoebe, I understood why. Rhea had her in her arms, holding her tightly, and it looked like Phoebe might be... crying?
Fuck.
My fingers curled around the arms of the chair. I wanted to go to her, to find out what had gone wrong so I could try make it right, but I couldn't be that guy for her. Not here. Not now. Not with everyone around us this way. All I could do was watch on, white knuckling the chair while I waited.
Both girls had their arms wrapped around Phoebe now, while Jace and Andy muttered to each other about chicks and their theatrics, which only made my jaw tighten, but then Phoebe pushed the girls away and wiped at her eyes, looking down at the sand before she gestured back to the bar with a wave of her hand.
The three of them had a little back and forth, but Phoebe said something that had the other two nodding softly, their postures changing from fight mode to letting her go far too quickly for my liking.
Not long after, Bailey and Rhea were walking back up the steps to the bar, while Phoebe quickly turned and walked away without so much as a glance in my direction, never mind a goodbye.
“What happened?” Andy asked when Bailey took her seat again. “Is Phoebe okay?”
“Not really.”
“It’s shit is what it is,” Rhea said, plonking into her seat next to me with a thud.
“What is?” Andy said.
“She has a lot of crap going on back home. I'm not sure she'd want us to talk about it without her consent?—”
“Her grandpa is sick,” Bailey said, draining her cocktail glass completely.
“Bailey! Christ!” Rhea shot back.
“What? It's hardly a secret, Rhea.”
“Yeah, but...” Her brows rose at her friend.
Bailey just rolled her eyes and turned to Andy. “She wants to be alone. Whenever anything gets hard, Phoebe always wants to be alone. Do you know how frustrating that is? To love someone and want what's best for them only for them to shut you out every time life gets hard?”
Andy's eyes rose to mine. “I have an idea, yeah.”
I looked away, not in the mood for any more of his digs when all I could think about was Phoebe finding her own way back to her apartment while out of her mind with worry.
I more than anyone knew that when you wanted to be alone that way, it usually meant life had become too overwhelming to carry on pretending to an audience.
The four of them continued the conversation, which I no longer wanted to be a part of.
All I could think about was that look of sadness on Phoebe's face after I'd finally, finally managed to make her smile again.
That challenging glare in her eyes when she'd stood on the opposite side of the volleyball net from me had made even me feel alive.
Her spark excited me. That cute fighting talk mixed with the way she'd wiped the sweat from her brow, not knowing what a turn on it had been to watch those beads of water running down over her skin.
How had she gone from that to crying in her friends’ arms so quickly?
“I think I'm gonna take off.” I pushed my chair back and rose to stand, not even looking down at the rest of them.
“Wait, we've ordered you a beer,” Jace reminded me.
“Consider it yours.”
I tossed a few euros his way, then made my way down the steps and onto the beach, following the same direction Phoebe had just taken.
It wasn't unlike me to walk away from a group setting that way, so I didn’t worry about them suspecting my true intentions.
It had always been in my nature to leave a party when I wanted to go, not when everyone else expected me to.
When my parents first died, I'd been allowed a lot of grace by the people around me in that respect, and maybe I still used that to my advantage now, but I didn't care. Whatever worked, worked.
The need to make sure Phoebe was okay charged through me, a foreign feeling in my chest that almost bordered on panic—an emotion I'd never really had when dating Lillie, or anyone else for that matter. But Phoebe hadn’t left me alone the night before, and I’d be damned if I left her alone now, no matter how much she wanted it.
We were too alike that way, and I saw straight through her now.
The fire hid an isolated soul, always depending on herself and no one else.
Always running from support instead of to it.
Stubborn. So stubborn.
As soon as I’d walked far enough away from the bar to be out of sight, I picked up my pace and began jogging down the path I assumed she'd taken.
When I came to the end of it, there she stood in all her glory, wearing that sheer shirt again as though it could somehow protect her from whatever news had turned her cold, despite the heat.
The sun didn't matter when it felt like your soul had started freezing over.
I came to a slow stop, taking her in for a moment as she looked up to the clear sky, wiping beneath her eyes as though trying to stop any more tears from falling. As though people would judge her if she set even a single one free.
She has a lot of crap going on back home.
Why did I suddenly need to know about all of it? To know about all of her?
I had no idea, but when Phoebe closed her eyes against the world, lowered her chin and blew out a steadying breath, I knew I’d done the right thing following her.
No matter how much she thought she could handle the hits on her own, she needed to know she didn’t have to.
Eventually, she opened her eyes again, and when she turned in my direction and saw me, everything seemed to just.. . stop.
Only the two of us existed.
That look of sadness she wore almost made me believe that my heart hadn’t iced over the way I thought it had because I felt something. I felt a lot.
Her eyes trailed down to my chest before she rubbed her lips together. I should have been flattered by the look she gave me, like she couldn’t get enough, even in her time of crisis, but my ego didn’t matter then. Only she did.
All I could think to do was crook my finger upwards until her gaze rose back to my face again.
Knowing she'd been caught out ogling brought the slightest hint of a sad smile to her face, but I wanted more, so I closed the distance between us until I towered over her small frame. She blinked up at me, all lost and vulnerable. Some battles were too tiring to fight.
“If you want me to leave, I'll go,” I said gently.
“I'm not the best company right now.”
“I don't need you to be.”
She searched my eyes as though she could see things in them nobody else ever had. “What do you want from me, Henry?”
“Nothing.” Everything .
“Then, why are you here?”
“Because I know what it's like to tell people you want to be alone when alone is the last thing you need.” I reached up to pinch her delicate chin between my finger and thumb. “You just don't know how to ask for help when you need it.”
“You think I'm the same as you?”
“I think you're probably the better version of me.”
She swallowed as though my answer pained her somehow, and she reached up to wrap her fingers around my wrist and pull my hand away from her face. When she let me go, I hated the way my fingers itched to go straight back to her soft skin. Any part of it. I didn't care.
“This isn’t a good idea,” she said quietly.
“What isn't?”
“Us being... friends.”
“Who said anything about being friends? I can still hate you while looking after you.”
I didn’t miss the slight hitch of breath she took at that, but her scowl returned quickly. “Why would you, of all people, want to look after me?”
Wasn’t that the question of the fucking century?
“I know what it’s like when you feel like the walls of your life are crumbling down around you. No one should have to handle that alone.”
“You're too much of an arsehole to say sweet things like that.”
I couldn’t argue with her there. I had no idea where this side of me had come from. Especially not around her, the one woman I'd been trying to avoid being like this in front of since the moment I first laid eyes on her.
“I can be nice,” I told her. “I just like the fire being nasty brings out in you.”
Thankfully, the joke hit, and she huffed out a small laugh that somehow brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes. “You're a real idiot, you know that?”
“Yeah.” I smiled, pushing my hands into the pockets of my swim shorts to keep them from reaching out to her again. “You mind if this idiot walks you back to your apartment, though? Just so he knows you get home safe.”
“Home,” she said with a small sigh. “That's the last place I want to go right now.”
“I didn't mean?—”
“I know.” She hitched the straps of her bag farther onto her shoulder, using that as her life support. “I know you meant the apartment, but even the mention of home...” She shook her head, letting her thoughts drift again.
“I understand.”
“You do?”
“Mmhmm.” More than you know.
“Okay.” She nodded. “Sorry, I just?—”
“Don't say sorry for things like emotions. That's ridiculous.”
“Jesus, Henry.” She blew out another unsteady breath. “All this niceness. It's unsettling.”
I smiled again. “Maybe if I spend a bit more time with you, you'll irritate me enough into becoming the arsehole version you prefer. Walk with me?”
She nodded again, and even though I didn't want to make this moment all about me...
I could have sworn I saw not only a smile on her face, but a blush in her already sun-kissed cheeks, too.