Page 57 of True Sight
“Okay, then we can do it again.” He shakes my hand that he’s still holding and runs his thumb along the back of it. “Like I said last night, one step at a time. We don’t have to rush anything and that includes telling anyone about us if you’re not ready to.”
“I just don’t know what to call you if anyone asks,” I hesitate as I say it because I don’t want to hurt his feelings. I’m sure part of him would like for me to call him my boyfriend but I don’t think I’m ready for that.
“You could call me…your special friend.” He perks up with his suggestion, clearly thinking it’s a pretty solid choice.
“That makes you sound like a hooker—or a stripper,” I point out.
“Darling,please, I dance much better than a stripper,” he scoffs and waves a hand at me which I snatch out of the air and kiss the palm of. His cheeks bloom with hints of pink at the move.
“I’m not calling you my ‘special friend,’ sweets.”
“Why don’t you just call me Henry then?”
“Just Henry?”
“Just Henry,” he repeats.
“My Henry,” I try to whisper to myself but he gasps when he hears me and leans over to kiss me on the cheek.
“I like that one the best.”
24
HENRY
We spent the first few hours of Sunday lying around the house not doing much of anything. I enjoyed having another body in the house for once. I don’t mind living on my own, but having him around makes my heart happy. Eventually, he decides he needs to go home to properly feed Annie and take a shower. I offer for him to take a shower at my place but he politely declines.
“We’re taking it slow, remember?”he says as he steps into his trainers. He’s wearing a pair of my joggers and a shirt I’d lent him since his clothes are still soaking wet from last night. We meant to put them in the tumble dryer when we came home but seemed to have forgotten as soon as the clothes came off. I groan loudly at his reminder and he pulls me into a hug, sinking his nose into my neck and breathing me in. Before he leaves, we share a kiss and I pull him in for another for good measure before he steps out of my flat.
“I’ll see you on Tuesday,” he promises. With my back against the closed front door, I let out a happy sigh as I slide to the floor in a blissful haze. I replay the last forty-eighthours with him and once again, feel like I’m living in a dream. My little bubble of perfection is burst though when the mention of our Tuesday meeting hits me square in the face. The laundry list of things Ishouldhave been doing all weekend comes back in a blur. I still need to plan and practice this week’s choreo and make sure Alex is all prepped for her classes. We’ve added more to her schedule since her classes book out so quickly with how much people are loving her. The schedule is normally only open for an hour or so before every space she has open is claimed. She assures me she can handle them and while I know she can and trust she will meet expectations, I still like to check in and make sure she isn’t feeling overwhelmed.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my wonderful boss and favorite Englishman,” she sings over the line when I call her later that afternoon. “Did you survive the storm?”
“I did, thank you for asking. Did you?” I ask, pouring myself a cup of tea.
“I did, I did. I was bored out of my mind all weekend, please tell me you did something fun.” She sighs and waits for me to respond. The events of the last forty-eight hours rush into my mind and distract me from answering quickly enough. Sensing my hesitation, she drops her voice an octave and purrs over the line. “Do somethingdirty?”
Dirty? I mean, I would personally call jerking off the guy you’d been pining over the last couple months until he came in your hand dirty but I’m not sure what her standards are.
“Uhh, erm,” I stammer.
“Oh my god, you did do something dirty,” she screams, and it’s so loud I have to pull my phone away from my ear. “You have to spill,now.”
I laugh awkwardly as my brain attempts to come up with some cover story. “So?—”
“Was it that guy you told me about before? The one who you weren’t sure if he was into men or not?”
“Well—” I begin but she cuts me off again.
“I told you he was into you, I told you. Did he kiss you? Did you kiss him? Did he confess that he’s had feelings for you this whole time? Did you see him naked?” Her questions are coming out in rapid succession and her voice gets louder with each one.
“Yes?” My voice picks up at the end as the single word comes out as more of a question than a statement.
“Yes to which one, sweetie, I just asked you twenty questions,” she spits.
“Yes to all of them?” I say meekly.
“To all of them?” She squeals loudly over the phone and I can just picture what she looks like. Black puffer vest and AloYoga leggings with her long, dark hair slicked back into a sleek ponytail. “Oh my god, I’m so happy for you. Tell me, was his dick delicious?” I can’t help but burst into a fit of laughter when her voice goes from deranged school girl to smooth and cool in less than three seconds.
