Page 76 of Chasing After You
I clear my throat, grabbing my hat to run my hand through my hair before putting it on backward. “Yeah, let’s go,” I say, and her cheeks flush bright red.
If I hadn’t promised Kaitlyn I’d be there, I don’t think we’d be going anywhere tonight.
I wonder if Mirabelle can read my thoughts because she ducks her head and escapes to the garage before I can do something stupid, like kiss her senseless.
I’m so fucked.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Mirabelle
HOLY FUCKING SHIT, I can’t breathe.
I seriously think I’m going to suffocate in the car before we get to the game because Henry has stolen all the oxygen out of my lungs with how unbelievably hot he looks. It should seriously be illegal for Henry to look that damn good in a backward hat. Like seriously?
It might have even saved him from jumping into the pool with me yesterday if he had decided to rock that look sooner.
I’m not saying my heart wouldn’t still be shattered in a thousand pieces over my brothers, but it would have been a nice little bandage to tape the pieces back together.
I feel dumb I gave Henry the list already because I would have added that I’d like to be fucked by him in that goddamn hat.
Honestly, it’s been a great distraction from thinking about what else Hunter could say tonight that would pour salt on the already gaping wound in my chest. Bailey’s definitely not going to be there, though, so I guess that saves me from one of them.
Henry shifts in his seat, his large hands holding the steering wheel tightly, and I take a deep breath, forcing myself to look out the window. This is going to be the longest drive of my life. I should have waited to give the list to Henry, but I was afraid I’d chicken out.
So I slid it under the door, and hid in my room trying not to have a panic attack about the things I put on the list until Henry said it was time to go.
I’m assuming that by the way he stared at me before we left, he definitely saw it.
Henry clears his throat and turns down the radio. “So . . .”
I start fidgeting with my necklace. “So . . .”
“You put the sex list on a to-do list?”
“I thought it was funny,” I defend myself, turning to look at him. He’s chuckling, a small smile forming.
“It is funny,” he agrees, and I relax a little in my seat. “Is there anything I should know?”
“What?” I ask, confused.
“You put question marks next to a few of the items,” he continues, and my cheeks flush. If I want to do the things on the list with Henry, then I can suck it up and talk about them with him.
“Yes,” I say, and Henry glances my direction. God, it’s so not fair how hot he looks right now. I can barely think straight.
“Is there a reason you had question marks next to them?”
“Can you turn your hat the right way?” I blurt out, and a beautiful—yet, infuriatingly knowing—smile forms on his lips.
“Is it bothering you?”
“It’s distracting.”
Henry laughs quietly but makes no move to switch it. “I think the same thing when you wear those death traps to work.”
Death traps? He likes my heels?It catches me off guard enough that I stammer out an answer to his question because talking about our sex list is somehow easier than asking more about how distracting my heels are. “Um, well, I wasn’t sure about putting them on the list, so I thought I’d ask you about them to see if they were anything you were interested in? I mean, we don’t have to do anything on that list if you don’t want to do it,” I explain quickly, and Henry reaches over to hold my hand.
My heart stutters in my chest as I look down at it, realizing the cuticle on my thumb is raw.
