Page 57 of I Hear You

I clear my throat and look back out at the ocean, embarrassed because she clearly caught me staring.

“I’m gonna–I’m gonna go take a shower,” I mumble, and leave before I do or say something stupid.

I hear Madison chuckling to herself as I close the bathroom door. At least I got her to laugh a little.

I take my time in the shower, letting the warm water rush over me, dipping my head under the stream. Trying to sleep in the same bed as Mads when she’s wearing that little outfit is going to be a challenge. I finish my shower with a blast of cold water to keep my dick in check.

Chapter twenty-seven

Madison

I’mfeelingamixtureof anger and complete numbness. Trying to be angry at Henry for not telling me who he really was, angry at my mother for being selfish among so many other things, and feeling a loss about my dad–is all too much to feel at once. At least Henry made an effort to explain to me why he did what he did. He’s also kind of been my rock all day long. I don’t know how I would have handled everything that’s been shoved in my face today without him. I’d probably still be sitting in the storage unit crying in the dark if he hadn’t forced me to leave. The anger I have toward him starts to slip away, turning to something else the more I think of everything he’s done for me since I landed in Easton.

The door to the bathroom opens and Henry comes out wearing cotton pajama pants and a plain T-shirt that hugs his toned muscles perfectly. I try not to stare, but I never knew a guy's pajamas could be so sexy. While he was in the shower, I decided to get into the bed, under the covers. The bed is soft and my body sinks into it easily, the weight of the day making my limbs heavy. I’ve already taken one of the extra pillows and placed it in the middle of the bed, an obvious barrier. I’m still questioning if what he did, not telling me who he was right away, is something I should stay mad about. The pajamas are currently swaying me in the direction of not being mad.

I sit up in the bed, feeling too vulnerable laying down, but keep the white silk sheets pulled up to my chest and tucked under my arms. The silk sheets, the big luxurious fluffy towels, the ocean view. They all make me wonder how expensive this room was. Even the room itself smells expensive, like citrus and lavender. It’s the type of scent you’d expect from a spa. I should offer to at least pay half of the bill.

Henry hasn’t moved any closer to the bed since he emerged from the bathroom. I wonder if he’s as nervous as I am. Sure; I slept in the same bed as my ex-boyfriend plenty of times, but it was different. I knew exactly what Liam was thinking one hundred percent of the time. Sex, pot and video games were his three defaults.

“Are you going to get in the bed?” I finally ask him.

He rocks back on his heels and stares out the window. I follow his gaze. I left the curtains and the door open, letting the ocean breeze fill the hotel room.

“Madison, I can sleep on the floor. Really, it’s no problem.”

I can tell he’s nervous and chewing on the inside of his cheek. It’s comforting to know I’m not the only one whose mind is spinning at the thought of laying in this bed together.

“Fine, but I’m telling you, it’s okay to sleep in the bed and you’re an idiot if you sleep on the floor.”

That came out a little harsher than I meant it to, but I don't apologize. Instead, I turn off the lamp on the bedside table and lay down facing away from him, toward the open door. A few seconds later I feel the dip of the bed as Henry gets in it. My heart rate picks up a little. Even though I told him I’m entirely fine with him sleeping in the bed, I still don’t know how I’m going to fall asleep knowing he’s so close.

I manage to somehow, but I wake a few hours later, my mouth dry and uncomfortable. I must be dehydrated from all the crying I’ve done today. Before I go to get out of bed, I’m reminded I’m not alone when Henry lets out a sigh. Is he still awake? The room is dark. He must have turned off the rest of the lights after I fell asleep. I move to sit on the edge of the bed and peek behind me. He appears to be fast asleep; his eyes are closed, hands tucked up under his head and his lips are gently parted. This is the first time I’ve seen him look peaceful all day, and it’s hard to look away.

I get up from the bed to find a glass. There’s a wet bar in the room with a mini fridge but I know better than to take anything in there. I don’t want to pay fifty dollars for a three ounce bottle of water. There’s a glass on the counter, I grab it and go to fill it from the bathroom sink, padding across the cool tile floors. Within minutes, I’ve filled and drank the entire glass three times before I make my way back to bed. I’ve almost made it back when I crash into the desk I didn’t see in the dark, making a loud bang and adding to the noise when I throw out a few expletives.

Henry shoots up out of his sleep and sits up.

“Are you okay? What’s going on?”

There’s a noticeable panic in his words, his breathing is loud and heavy.

“Sorry, I ran into the desk.”

“Are you okay? What were you doing?”

I can make out his form in the dark sitting in the bed and I suppress a gasp when I recognize he’s no longer wearing a shirt. It’s so dark I didn’t notice at first, but now I can tell his muscles are a million times more on display than when he had the T-shirt on. Saliva collects in my mouth and I swallow it down, gathering some semblance of composure.

“I was thirsty. Sorry, go back to bed,” I tell him as I find my side of the bed and slide back in under the covers.

My back is turned to Henry but I realize the pillow that was dividing us before is gone, it must have gotten pushed down or kicked off the bed. I don’t want to turn to find it and put it back in place. I tell myself I don’t want to because it would be awkward, but I think deep down, I don’twantthe barrier between us anymore. Henry has settled back down into the bed. The room is now still, and quiet. The only sounds I hear are the waves crashing nearby and Henry’s breath, slow and steady, behind me.

I lay there for several long minutes listening to him breathing; I can’t fall back asleep. I reposition myself and let out a huff.

“Can’t sleep?” Henry asks.

“No.”

“Want to talk about what happened with your mom?”

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