Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Henry
T wice I’d kissed her now, and twice I’d been interrupted one way or another.
I’d started to think God was punishing me for something I didn’t know I’d done—probably for my lack of faith in him since losing my parents.
If he thought a good case of blue balls would make me start praying again, he had another thing coming.
The only thing I found worthy of worship at this point in my life was the woman sitting opposite me in a quaint little Greek tavern, her body half-turned toward the ocean, her chin tilted up to the sun, her eyes closed behind her sunglasses.
From the moment we’d taken our seats on a little two-seater table next to a white-washed wooden railing that allowed us to look straight out onto the water, she’d been smitten.
When I chose to pay attention, like right now, it was clear to see how Phoebe took in the world around her in quiet little moments, where all she needed were her own thoughts and no drama.
She looked like the embodiment of peace, which she’d somehow managed to sink into me, too.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this way.
The realisation that it had probably been over a decade ago when my parents had been alive threatened to ruin the moment, the way grief often did, smacking you up the side of the head when you least expect it.
But I somehow pushed those dark thoughts away and focused on the light Phoebe radiated in front of me instead, sighing in my contentment.
At the sound of my exhale, Phoebe opened her eyes to look at me with a soft smile. “Sorry. I got lost in my own head for a second there.”
“That doesn’t sound like something you need to apologise for. Unless those thoughts were bad, which, judging by the look on your face, they weren’t.”
“Nothing about being here with you is bad.” A playful scowl formed between her brows. “Unless you go back to being the old, miserable Henry. That could ruin it a little.”
“Hey,” I said with a half-hearted laugh. “You weren’t exactly warm and inviting when we first met, either.”
“What did you expect? I had to react to your despicable temperament somehow. You can’t blame a girl for giving a guy shit when he’s as rude as you were.”
“Fair.” I tugged one leg over my other thigh, holding it in place by the ankle as I just looked at her, taking her in.
Her beauty was unrivalled at this point, especially with the backdrop of Mykonos behind her, all whites and blues and pinks and greens making her stand out even more.
The constant breeze around this island had her hair blowing like we were in the middle of a pop diva’s music video, and the spattering of delicate freckles across the bridge of her nose seemed to darken by the day, making me want to trace my finger over each and every one.
“What?” she asked when I stared a moment too long. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m admiring the view.”
That blush she always tried to hide crept into her cheeks almost instantly, and I couldn’t wait to find out where else she blushed when I finally got her naked and to myself.
Before I could continue to make her feel any more awkward though, the waiter came over to take our order.
Truthfully, I didn’t even feel ready for food yet, but I’d needed an excuse to get Phoebe alone, and I’d seen this little place on the waterfront the first day the boys and I had arrived, vowing to visit it on my own at some point to really soak it all in.
Instead, I’d brought the woman sitting opposite me, who’d just placed an order for a burrata salad, a bottle of Mythos, and now waited for me to speak.
“I’ll have the same as her, cheers,” I told the waiter without even looking at the menu. “Whatever the hell a burrata salad is.”
“Why would you order something you’ve never heard of?”
“I’m putting my faith in your judgement.”
“That’s awfully brave of you.”
“Nah. I trust you.”
The two of us fell into easy conversation once the waiter brought us our bottles of beer and we waited for our food, talking about our friends and what the hell was going on between them all before we slid into talking about our lives back home.
She told me about the multiple jobs: the little fashion boutique she worked five shifts a week in and the dance school she helped out at.
She even managed to fit a few hours of voluntary work in at her grandfather’s care home to cheer him and the other residents up, which only made my appreciation for her grow.
The more she opened up to me, the more I wanted to know.
At this point, I could have learned a whole new language based around her, and it still wouldn’t have been enough.
For now, though, I let her take the lead. Something told me she needed it after being bulldozed more often than not by Bailey and Rhea. Good friends, I’m sure they were, but man, could they talk.
Phoebe asked me about Andy’s and Jace’s intentions with the girls, but I had to tell her that when it came to women, I never knew what those two were thinking.
Andy liked the chase of the ‘it’ girls, and Jace liked to charm his target with jokes and quick wit until he broke even the most hardened souls down.
Meeting Bailey and Rhea so soon in the holiday had been too good to be true for the pair of them, as though all this had been fate and the six of us had been destined to meet all along.
Shame I didn’t believe in any of that stuff.
Coincidence, sure. Fate? What a load of bollocks.
“And here you are, stuck with me,” she said, shaking her head. “Poor guy.”
“I’m not complaining,” I took a sip of my beer. “There’s still so much to figure out about you.”
“What else do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
Her smile rose. “Like?”
“What kind of music do you listen to?”
“Anything with good lyrics. If there’s a story in it, I’m going to listen to it.”
I should have known. Her love of stories seemed to sway everything in her life.
“What about you?” she asked.
“Would you believe me if I told you my answer’s the same as yours?”
Phoebe tilted her head my way. “Yes, actually. I would.”
Something passed between us that felt incredibly right, as though another piece of my former self melted away in front of her because of her, exposing me even more.
“Favourite movie?” I asked to break the tension we seemed to create so easily.
“How To Lose a Guy in Ten Days,” she answered without hesitation.
“Never seen it.”
Something in her smile faltered, but she quickly righted herself and inhaled a breath through her nostrils that made her tits bounce before sighing.
“She makes this hot guy fall for her within ten days. He’s supposed to walk away at the end of it, but…
you know… things happen between them. Romance and all that.
” She shrugged a shoulder. “A little unbelievable, I suppose.”
A few days ago, I’d have agreed, but looking at Phoebe now… “Stranger things have happened,” I said, watching her reaction.
She forced out a barely-there laugh and gestured between us. “Nothing stranger than this, Henry.”
“You and me?” Us.
“Yeah.” She began to peel at the label on her bottle. “I don’t normally do things this secretively. It’s not who I am.”
“Are you enjoying it so far?”
“You don’t need me to answer that,” she said quietly.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear it.” Needed to at this point.
“Yes, I’m enjoying… sneaking around. Even though it feels naughty.”
I tried not to focus on how the word ‘naughty’ sounded coming from her innocent mouth, or the effect it had on me. “Maybe this is who you really are, you’ve just never let yourself meet this version of Phoebe Turner before now.”
“Are you saying I’m actually a liar and a cheat deep down?”
“A cheat? Who are you cheating on?” If she mentioned another guy back home, I didn’t know how I’d react, even though I was the one supposed to be keeping this thing between us casual over here.
“No one.” She shook her head again, thankfully, as her brows knitted together again. “Although I kinda feel like I’m cheating on myself and the promise I made before I flew out here.”
“The no men rule?”
“Yep, Shouldn’t the promises you make to yourself be the ones you stick to the most?”
“As long as those promises are things that really benefit your life, sure.” But me, Phoebe? I’ll be a good thing, I swear.
“That’s the problem. Before coming here, I really did think it was for the best that I kept men out of my life for a while. After what Rob did…” She trailed off.
“The ex?” So, that was the bastard’s name. My nostrils flared, but I just gripped my bottle tighter, hoping she didn’t notice. “Not all guys are like him.”
“The ones I’ve met are.”
“What about me?”
“I don’t know you yet.”
The look in her eyes shouldn’t have made my chest ache for her, but the thing I was slowly learning about Phoebe was that she wore her heart on her sleeve whether she wanted to or not. Right then, she wanted to trust me, but she also expected me to disappoint her sometime soon.
Maybe I saw through everything Phoebe tried to hide because she and I were the same. Two people lost, always trying to do what pleased everyone around us instead of doing what made our lives better. Two people who needed to start putting themselves first like everyone else seemed to do so easily.
I took another drink of my beer, then dropped it down to the table. “Want to know another little secret, then?”
“Always.”
“I had a similar rule to yours in place before I flew out here.”
That scowl of confusion was back, and she sat forward in her chair as she idly continued to peel at the corners of that damn label. “You had a no men rule in place?”
“No, smart arse. More like a no anybody rule. This holiday was supposed to be about Andy and me rebuilding a few bridges. Getting away from the rat race, from everyone back home—his parents, his sister, ya know—figuring out if our friendship could survive what I’d started to worry I’d broken.”
“Henry.” She said my name full of sympathy. “You did the right thing with Andy’s sister, even if he can’t see it yet. You can’t beat yourself up over it forever. Sometimes things just… don’t work out.”
“I know, but he means a lot to me, even when he’s being a giant dick, and despite what people think about me and this, I dunno, persona of mine, when I give a shit about someone, I really give a shit about someone. It’s not a fickle thing I give up on easily.”
“That’s an admirable trait to have.”
“Don’t be thinking I’m a nice guy or anything.”
“You? No chance.” She smiled, never taking her eyes off mine, and I didn’t mind the way she studied me. “Seems like we’ve both broken the same rule, then, though don’t think I’m as natural as it as you are. The rule breaking, I mean. I may need some guidance along the way.”
I reached across the table, holding my hand out, palm up, for her to take. She glanced between it and me for a few seconds before she eventually slid her smooth palm on top of mine, allowing me to curl my fingers around hers.
“Don’t worry, angel eyes. I’ll show you what you’re capable of before you get back on that plane.
Consider this the summer of discovery. Of showing your true colours to yourself.
Once you leave this place, you’ll finally be free from the shackles of your fear of genuine happiness.
It’s my mission to make you come undone. ”
All I could hope for after all this was done was that somehow, some way, I’d free myself from the very same shackles, too.
My thoughts were soon interrupted by the smiling waiter carrying two plates to our table and placing them down in front of us. “A burrata salad for you, ma’am,” he said to Phoebe. “And a burrata salad for you, sir.”
“Thanks,” I offered, but when he placed the food in front of me, I saw nothing but a white ball of something on top of a load of tomatoes, and one green leaf for garnish. I glanced up at Phoebe, who watched me as she picked up her knife and fork, wearing a curious smile.
“What the hell is this?” I asked once the waiter disappeared, picking up my knife and poking the spongy white ball of whatever the hell sat in the middle of my plate.
“It’s just cheese, Henry.”
“This is it? The whole dish? Just tomatoes and a blob of cheese?”
“That’s not a blob. It’s a piece of cheese art. There’s pesto on the dressing, too.”
“But… where’s the salad? Like, the green leaves and shit?”
“The tomatoes are the salad.”
“They’re seriously charging me ten euros for a ball of cheese and six slices of tomato?”
“It’s worth every single cent once you stop complaining and actually taste it.”
I glanced up just in time to see her push a forkful of this supposed cheese, tomato, and pesto goodness into her mouth, her eyes closing, and a small moan of appreciation rumbling in her delicate throat. “Mm.”
That one “mm” sold it.
She made it look like the greatest thing she’d ever tasted.
I had a feeling all Phoebe ever had to do to get me to comply was offer that quiet moan in my ear, and I’d fall to my knees and try whatever concoction of overpriced food she wanted me to.
I was becoming a madman for all her noises.
All the twinkles in her eyes, and those soft as hell smiles, too.