Daydream (Maple Hills, #3)(106)
“Is that how you became friends? Hiding from your family?”
“I wasn’t hiding from them. Mom and Paul, Mom especially, just had so much going on that I didn’t want to ever add to the stress. It’s hard to get yourself into trouble when all you do is read books. Will was very confident and he just welcomed me with little effort on my part.” Why did I ask about Will? Why do I like annoying myself?
“I guess that makes sense.”
“I just didn’t have any responsibilities at Will’s house. Nobody asked me to do anything, I never ended up covered in baby spit-up, and Will was just so laid back about everything that it was a respite from always trying to keep the peace in my own house. I know I don’t talk about him positively now, but I needed him then. He made me feel less lonely.”
She rubs her temple again, and it’s a swift reminder that she needs to rest. And I don’t want to hear Will’s redeeming qualities when he treated her so badly and she doesn’t really see it. “I’d like to see the cross-stitch if your brother has it,” I say, changing the topic. “Are you ready be taken care of?”
She nods, looking around the room for any last-minute things, and she clearly spots one because she makes a little squeaking noise. “How do you feel about me bringing Quack Efron?”
Chapter Thirty-Three HALLE
THE FUN PART ABOUT SPENDING so much time with someone who always says what they’re thinking is that when they’re trying not to say what they’re thinking, it’s painfully obvious.
There’s been a nervous energy in the air all week, and I put it down to Henry desperately wanting to make me feel better. I feel bad about making him worry, and if I’d known it was so serious that he was willing to introduce me to his mother, I’d have maybe listened to him a little sooner.
It’s hard being the person who needs to slow down when you’re the one who is always picking up the pieces for everyone else. Henry was right, though, and my pieces were flying all over the place.
Now that I’m finally feeling more like myself, it’s my turn to convince Henry to prioritize his health. He’s been going all out in the gym and doing extra hockey sessions with his teammates for weeks. He claims it’s because the best leader is one strong enough to lead his team—which I’m pretty sure is a quote he found online—and that it isn’t anything to do with the fact he’s playing against Will on Friday.
I guess it feels like a long time coming for him and probably like he’s got something to prove. He’s dancing around the truth, and I’m letting him, because I know all he’s heard from the guys is about how they won’t be able to face me if they get beat. I’ve tried to say I don’t care, but nobody seems to be listening to me.
The only plus side to Henry’s overthinking is his bid to distract himself, which so far has involved: bending me over, climbing on top of me, pulling me on top of him on every surface of his house, my house, and—as much as I’m horrified to admit it—my car.
My legs wobble when I try to use them, and instead of giving me the sympathy I so clearly deserve, he gave me a detailed breakdown of how lifting weights could help stop it. Then he makes my legs shake all over again.
I’ve read enough romance books to wonder how the leads get anything done when they’re constantly pawing at each other, but I honestly get it now. I have little to no interest in ever getting dressed and leaving the house. Which means every time I think I should really just ask him outright what’s bothering him, so I can reassure him again that I don’t care about Will, I instead immediately allow him to distract me.
The movie we put on has only been on for five minutes, but already he’s trying to get access to kiss my neck and his hand is traveling across my stomach. “Are you not tired?” I say, my eyes shutting tight when he begins to kiss down the column of my neck.
“Of you? Impossible,” he murmurs.
My body reacts to him like it hasn’t been touched in years, not hours, but I need to exercise some self-control like the adult woman I am. I think? A voice somewhere is telling me that’s right, but a much louder, much more turned-on voice is telling me to take off my clothes. “Should we talk about the elephant in the room?” I ask, silently congratulating myself for verbalizing my thoughts and not just giving in.
His breath is hot on my throat when he speaks. “I didn’t win you an elephant, but we can go to Santa Monica right now if that’s what you want.”
“You’re ridiculous. I mean the reason you’re taking all your nervous energy out on my body instead of talking about it.”
He nudges one of my knees with his and climbs between my legs, pressing himself into me so I can feel how hard he is. “I’m not nervous about the game. I doubt I’ll even see your parents.”
“So you do know what I’m talking about! Henry, get off me! Let’s talk about it.”
He groans as he dramatically climbs from between my legs and throws himself onto the mattress. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m not nervous.”
It’s no accident that my parents booked their annual January trip on the weekend when Will is playing at Maple Hills. I blame me not realizing the dates overlapped on the fact I was so sick when they called to remind me a few weeks ago. I’ve already made my peace with this weekend being hell, but I hate that it’s been weighing on Henry’s mind all week.