Chapter 22
MAISIE
My tired eyes slowly open to the smell of pizza waking me up. When did I make pizza? When did I even buy pizza? When did I–
“Hi, sleepy head.” Henry is cuddled in a blanket on the chair next to the couch. How long have I been asleep? I don’t even remember him getting here. “I thought you might be hungry since you’ve been sleeping for a few hours so I’m making you a pizza. But if you don’t like pizza, I can–”
I cut him off—“I love pizza,” I yawn, “all kinds of pizza.”
“That’s good, because I bought three different kinds.”
That causes me to laugh and I sit up from where my head was laying on my couch pillow. I look over at Henry, who looks too big to be sitting in that chair, yet it somehow looks like it was made for him. Like he was made to be sitting in my living room with me.
The more I’m around him, the more comfortable I get and that’s a scary feeling. He’s leaving soon and even though Miles lives here, I don’t want to just be someone to him whenever he comes back and visits.
I feel bad for even thinking that Henry would think of me like that but it’s the only way for me to get these feelings that I’m having toward him to go away. We’re just friends.
Friends are allowed to go to the store and buy their friends their favorite snacks and have a movie night while sick on the couch.
Friends are allowed to buy three different types of pizza because they don’t know what their friend likes.
These are all very friendly things to do.
“So, have you been watching me sleep like a stalker?” I ask to get my own brain back to normal.
“As cute as you are sleeping, I’ve just been reading on my phone.”
Of course he reads for fun, because what else is he if not perfect?
“So you think I’m cute?” I yawn again, my sleepy brain must be at low battery because why did I say that out loud? I’m not one to flirt outwardly but around Henry, it just feels natural.
This whole thing with Henry feels natural. I left the door unlocked for him which feels like a metaphor to my heart.
He eyes me from his chair. “I think we both know the answer to that, Maisie.”
I think we both know the answer to that, Maisie.
I can feel my neck getting hot all the way up to my cheeks. He can think I’m cute and still want to be friends, that’s what I have to tell myself.
I cannot have a crush on Henry Bellwood.
Henry Bellwood cannot have a crush on me.
It would never work—
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
The oven timer goes off, the smell of pizza coming back to my senses.
“Sounds like the pizza is done, do you want any now? Or I can heat it up for you later.” He moves the blanket from his lap, getting up from his chair.
“Oh, I can get it, you don’t have to.” I start to get up myself but Henry is already standing above me with a stern look on his face.
“I don’t think so. Stay there and let me take care of you.”
My eyes begin to wander because just like me, he’s dressed in pretty laid back attire.
His black shirt fits him like skin, his muscular arms faint with hair.
Peering lower, I don’t miss the minor flex of his biceps as he lifts his arm to run a hand through his hair and that’s when I’m reminded of the sharp V pointed lower with manly hair going south into his waistband.
I think he wants to kill me as I notice the slight outline of his cock under his gray sweatpants.
I want to run my finger across the skin just above the sweats, moving lower just for a touch of what lays underneath.
“My eyes are up here.” I feel his hand tilt my chin up before I make note of the words that came out of his mouth. “Let me take care of you.”
Blinking out of my haze, I say, “I’m not dying. I just have cramps.”
“Well, I don’t. So let me do the honor and take care of you. Please.” His eyes are full of want. Want to take care of me or want for me, I’ll never know.
“Watch out, Bellwood, I might start to think you’re falling in love with me,” I say jokingly, though it comes out anything but. His fingers still hold my chin and his eyes look over me like he really does care for me.
Shyly laughing and heading to the kitchen, he mumbles, “It’s hard not to,” probably assuming I can’t hear him, but I can.
It’s hard to believe that anyone could ever love me like that. Sure I have the love of my mom and Wren, but that’s just family love. I’ve never been in love before, nor has anyone loved me in a romantic way.
I hear the opening and closing of drawers and cupboards then remember that Henry has no idea where anything is here. “The pizza cutter is in the second drawer to the left, and plates are in the cupboard to the right of the oven.”
“What did I say about you staying put?”
“I am put,” I say sarcastically. “I’m just helping you help me.”
“In my defense, I was actually going to check that exact drawer and cupboard next.”
“I’m so sure you were,” I say and watch his back shake as he chuckles to himself.
I don’t look away as he moves around my kitchen, his back to me the whole time.
This time I’m not ogling his body but just watching the way he moves.
He walks around my space like it’s his own home, like he knows the blueprint from memory.
I can’t see his face but I catch a glimpse of his side profile as he strides to the sink, a small smirk plastered on his lips.
What is he smiling about to himself?
With two plates in hand, he walks back into the living room, once again looking like this space was made for him.
Like he was made to be here with me.
“A Henry Bellwood tried and true, Ruby Lake Grocery frozen pepperoni pizza.” He sets both plates down on the coffee table. “I also bought you an iced coffee. It's been in the fridge since you were sleeping but I’m sure it's still good if you’d like it now.”
“Getting this treatment makes me wish I wasn’t feeling good everyday.” I laugh, leaning in to grab a slice of pizza. “I would love my coffee, thank you.”
He saunters back into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and he looks over his shoulder at me. “What movie do you feel like watching?”
Pizza in hand, wrapped in my blanket, I ponder the question. It shouldn’t be that hard but I know if we watch a romance movie, it’ll put out the wrong idea, and I don’t do scary movies. Maybe a comedy? Something nostalgic?
“I can feel you thinking way too hard over there, Winslow.” He’s walking back over with my coffee and a few napkins. “What about we have a High School Musical marathon?”
“You’d be stuck with me for like… six hours”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. One day you’ll realize I do want to hang out with you.
” He looks at my mouth as I open it for a bite of pizza, his eyes not leaving me once as I chew; even when I lick my lips, his eyes don’t adjust. He clears his throat, fixing his eyes back on mine.
“You can kick me out whenever you want but I’ll stay as long as you allow me.
Plus you know how much I love High School Musical. ”
“Marathon it is!”
I get situated and realize that the chair he originally was sitting in doesn’t face the TV. The only other spot that does would be on the couch next to me.
I have no time to panic as he sits on the other side of the couch nonchalantly, as if he isn’t panicking himself.
“Is it okay if I sit next to you? I’ll try not to bite,” he winks, “but no promises.” The dimples do me in and I nod, mouth slightly ajar which I quickly close so I’m not drooling in front of him.
I watch his body lean across the edge of the couch, grabbing the blanket he left on the chair.
His biceps strain through the fabric of his shirt and I can only imagine what other muscles are underneath.
He looks back at me as I’m eating another slice of pizza and I hear a small giggle leave him.
“Oh no, do I have something on my face?” My hand flies straight to my mouth to cover it but Henry’s hand is quickly on my wrist moving it away.
Without a word, his thumb finds the corner of my mouth, wiping away pizza sauce. Before I can think of how nice it feels to have his hands touch my face, his thumb is removed from my face and now sucked in his mouth.
Our eyes stay locked on one another as he licks his thumb. This moment is so sensual for what it is… but I want more. Unfortunately he blinks and removes his thumb from those lips I want to lick myself.
“Come here,” he says, ignoring the part where he just did something so hot and sexual that his command catches me off guard.
Everything Henry does catches me off guard.
“Wh-what?”
“Come here, come lay on my lap. I’ll rub your back while the movie plays.” He sounds so confident, like this is a normal thing for friends to do. “I can do magical things with my hands, Winslow.”
The sexual innuendo has my cheeks flaming because I know he’s talking about rubbing my back but now my mind is going to places it shouldn’t.
Places where Henry’s fingers could linger lower, lower, lower—
“Grab your blanket too, we’ll make you cozy, okay?” He interrupts my thoughts.
“Okay,” I reply softly and gather my blanket as I move closer. I can feel my heart pounding and I wonder if he’ll be able to feel it too. Is his heart also pounding?
He maneuvers himself so that his legs are planted on the floor and grabs a couch pillow that he puts on his lap. “For your head so you don’t have to lay… you know.” He coughs out the last two words, and I just nod shyly.
Lying back down, I find my way closer to Henry. Every time I look at him, I’m reminded of the most kind hearted and gentle person I’ve come to know. A surprise I didn’t know I needed in my life.
Thinking of all of the summer days that have gone by, all of my memories are filled with him. Every happy moment I’ve had somehow finds its way back to his name on my lips.
Pushing those thoughts away, I rest my head on the pillow he set down for me. Taking the blanket from my grasp, he pulls it over me and rests his hand on my back.
His thumb slowly makes circles on the fabric of my shirt and I wish his hand was touching my skin. Deep down I know that’s going too far but going too far with Henry is all my mind wants to do right now.
I don’t want to be friends with Henry. I want to lie here with his hand on my skin as we watch old movies from our childhood and be able to reach up, pull his face to mine, and have his lips touch my own.
I want to do very unfriendly things to him, but if this is all we can have, this is what I will take.