Chapter 8
He’s late.
We agreed on noon, and when I look at the clock on my phone, it confirms it’s ten minutes past. I kick a lone rock in frustration before adjusting one of my tank top straps.
One of my biggest pet peeves is tardiness. I hate when people promise they’ll be somewhere at a certain time and don’t even send a courtesy text to say they’ll be late.
I let out a frustrated huff of air before stalking toward the stairs that lead up to Henry’s apartment. My feet begin to heavily stomp up each step, but I stop myself before I let my irritation get the best of me.
When I make it to the top of the steps, I’m face to face with a door identical to mine. Without hesitating, I land three assertive knocks on the splintered wood surface. This idiot better not be ditching me.
Just as I’m about to assume the worst, I hear the same heavy footsteps I’ve become familiar with the past few weeks. The footsteps rapidly approach the door, and before I know it, I’m face to face with a shirtless Henry.
My breath hitches and I beg my eyes not to fall from his. Life has tested me in many ways, but this is a whole new level I wasn’t expecting this afternoon.
“I’m so sorry. I was on a call with my agent and lost track of time. I just need five minutes to finish getting dressed.”
“Okay.” I swallow.
“You can wait in here if you want.”
Henry doesn’t let me answer and instead stalks off to where I’m assuming his bedroom is.
As he turns, I let my eyes wander down tan and smooth muscular ridges to the two small dimples at the base of his backside.
His jeans sit low on his hips, making me suck in a sharp breath. I swear the universe is testing me.
“Oh, and one quick question,” he says, turning around quickly.
My eyes are still trailing up his body when his gaze catches mine. Heat rushes to my face, and I jerk my head up, but it’s too late. The smirk tugging at my lips is enough to confirm he knows exactly what I was doing.
His arms cross over his chest, and he quirks his eyebrow. “Were you just—”
“No,” I cut him off. I close my eyes and regret my defensiveness. If it wasn’t obvious before, it sure as hell was now.
Henry’s smirk deepens, and something dark pools in his eyes.
“Right. Anyway…” He cocks his head, letting his eyes drift down my body.
My skin tingles with awareness when his gaze hovers over the exposed skin of my collarbone for a beat too long.
I clear my throat, prompting him to make eye contact again.
“What was your question?”
“Should I wear boots, or are sneakers okay?”
“Boots would be better,” I answer. My voice feels like gravel spilling out of my dry mouth. He smiles in response and turns back around.
When Henry’s half-naked frame disappears into the other room, I press a palm to my flushed skin. That was the exact opposite of keeping Henry in the friend zone. It was an open invitation to do very unfriendly things. Get it together, Emma.
I try to distract myself by taking a moment to look around his apartment. It’s smaller than mine, but most of the fixtures and walls are the same.
I know he’s only staying here for the summer, so I’m not surprised there isn’t anything decorating the blank walls surrounding his modest living space. The only character in the entire apartment is the bookshelf sitting next to his makeshift desk in the corner of the room.
My legs pull me to the shelf filled to the brim with books. I smile when I see a mix of classic literature and romance novels. Henry said his two novels were romances, so it’s only fair that half his bookshelf is filled with them.
My hand drifts to a random book, and I slide it off the shelf to inspect the cover.
It’s hard not to laugh when I come face to face with a Fabio-esque-looking man holding onto a woman whose blouse looks like it’s about to blow off her body.
I quickly shove it back to his place like I uncovered a dirty secret.
I’m about to take a seat on the couch in the other corner of the room when I spot a framed photo sitting on his desk I hadn’t noticed before.
The photo features a younger version of Henry, with his glasses covering half his face.
He’s sandwiched between two women who I don’t recognize.
The woman on his right shares Henry’s big brown eyes and tan complexion, so I assume it’s his mother.
The other woman must be his mom’s wife he told me about the other day.
I lean in to get a closer look at the photo when I feel something rub against my legs, making me freeze in place. When I look down, my heart rate begins to calm when I realize it’s a cat.
I crouch down and offer my hand to the furry creature who’s already decided I’m not a threat. “Hey there, little guy.”
Purrs vibrate through my hand as Henry’s cat gracefully accepts my gesture of goodwill. My mouth stretches into a smile when the grey and white fur ball flops on the ground and rolls around playfully.
“I think he likes you,” a voice says from the other room.
When I look up, Henry is leaning against the doorframe, his head tilted toward me. He has the same goofy smile as in the picture I was just examining.
“What’s his name?”
“Darcy,” he answers proudly.
“Darcy?”
“Yeah, like Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice.”
“Wow. You’re such a nerd.” I smile.
Henry clenches his right peck in anguish. “That hurts.”
I smile and shake my head. “The only reason I even recognize that name is from the movie version with Keira Knightley.”
“Me estas matando. It’s a classic,” he argues before stalking off to his bookshelf a few feet away from me and Darcy, who’s still soaking up the attention I’m giving him.
“Here,” he exclaims while pulling a book off his shelf. “I know you’re not a big reader, but I think you’ll really like it.”
I force my spine into an upward position and take the book from Henry’s hands. His fingers brush against mine for a moment, and I feel a now familiar tingle radiating through my body. I wish he’d stop finding ways to touch me. I swallow and clench onto the worn copy.
I can tell he’s read this copy many times by the faded cover and brittle spine. My thumb traces over the barely legible title, and when I look up, Henry’s eyes are glued to mine.
“I can’t take this,” I mumble. “I can tell it’s your favorite copy.”
Henry’s smile lines form as he tucks a loose curl behind his ear.
“I insist. It’s helped me through a lot of hard times in my life, and I sense you could use some light in your life,” he croaks, clearing up his throat.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying that. It—it can also help with your writing too. ”
I drop my line of sight from him back to the book in my hands.
The pit in my stomach lurches when I think about how he can see right through me after only knowing me for a short time.
It’s disarming, but it feels nice to feel seen.
I can’t fake a smile around him, and it’s terrifying, yet comforting, all wrapped up in one human.
“Thank you,” I whisper, staring into his eyes again. Being around him feels like I’m free-falling into a world of pain, much different from the pain I’ve experienced most of my life. This was the type of pain I wanted to dive headfirst into. But I can’t.
“We should probably get going,” I suggest, desperate to escape his act of kindness.
“Sure thing.”
It was going to be a long day.
“Is this legal?”
“You said you wanted to go somewhere abandoned, and that’s what we’re doing,” I state bluntly. “Plus, it’s only illegal if we get caught.”
I can sense Henry’s weariness as his light footsteps trail behind me. Honey Grove didn’t have a strip mall, let alone an abandoned one, but we did have a creepy elementary school that had been abandoned for years.
It was actually the elementary school I attended when I first moved to Honey Grove, but I could barely remember my time here. Shortly after I started school, they shut it down and moved most of the county into one super elementary school.
The further we walk into the old building, the darker it gets, and I’m forced to take out my flashlight. Most of the school was cleaned out, but old desks and chairs were still scattered everywhere.
“Oh great,” Henry whines. “I’m going to be writing this book from jail, aren’t I?”
“It’s fine,” I reason before turning toward him. “We used to come here all the time in high school and never got caught. It looks like kids still come here too.”
I point my flashlight to some discarded beer cans in the corner of the hallway where we’re standing.
It makes me think about when Wren forced me to go with her to a party here one weekend.
That was back when Wren and Blake weren’t official but would take every opportunity possible to sneak away to someplace quiet.
This was the perfect place for a teenager to make mistakes in the dark.
“Right.” He swallows.
“So, what scene are you working on?” I ask. It felt good to be the one in charge of our little excursion. When I was younger, and for most of our marriage, I followed Colt around like a lost puppy dog. But now Henry was the one relying on me to show him the way.
“It’s a pivotal scene in the book where they find out the killer is luring young kids into the strip mall to kill them.”
“That’s really the image I need right now.”
“Sorry.” He laughs. “This place is pretty spooky even in the daytime.”
“Why wouldn’t he kill them in the church?”
“What?” Henry’s footsteps stop for a moment, and I turn to face him again.
“Why a strip mall? Wouldn’t it make more sense for him to lure the kids to the church? And then he could easily dump the bodies in the cemetery. It would be more efficient.”
“I thought that would be too obvious,” he grunts. “Don’t you think?”
“Maybe. What’s the thought process behind luring the kids to the abandoned strip mall?”
Before Henry can answer, there’s a loud thump in the other room, and we both go still. “What was that?”
“I don’t know. You’re the one who said it was safe.”