Daydream (Maple Hills, #3)(40)
“No distractions, please,” he says. “I’m very busy.”
After twenty minutes of writing, I feel a hand on my ankle. When Henry lifts it onto his lap I have no choice but to drop to my elbow. When he grabs the other one and repeats I’m basically lying down on my side, making it impossible to work on my laptop. “Can I help you with something, Henry?”
“No.”
I roll onto my stomach from my side for comfort, placing my laptop in front of me to attempt to continue to work. He uses my complacency to stretch my leg out across his lap and push my jeans up to my knee. That’s when I feel something tickle against my foot. Looking back at him over my shoulder, I eye him suspiciously. “Are you drawing on me?”
“I was raised not to tell lies,” he says.
When I turn back to my laptop I feel the tickling again. It continues, progressing over my ankle and up my calf. I’m convinced it takes twice as long to finish my work because I might be strong, but I’m not strong enough to be able to block out Henry’s soft touch against my skin. This is the worst possible timing after my dream last night.
After what feels like forever, I finally shut my laptop and climb off the couch. There’s a chorus of disapproving mumbles as I disturb Joy from her sleeping spot and interrupt whatever Henry has been doing.
“It isn’t finished,” he says as I pull up the leg of my jeans to investigate further.
My head twists and I try to bend my foot at an angle it’s not supposed to go. “What is it?”
He looks at me like I’m ridiculous not to immediately be able to tell upside down. “Cats in a meadow.”
It’s actually very cute. If only it was somewhere I could keep, instead of decorating my skin. “I would have shaved my legs if I’d known you were about to pay extra attention to them.”
His eyebrows pinch together a little. “It isn’t surprising for me to find hair in a place where hair grows, Halle. You haven’t shattered any illusions for me that women are smooth and hairless.”
The inner feminist in me is screaming at myself because he’s right. What he said to me is exactly what I’d say to my sisters, because I don’t want them to grow up scrutinizing and changing themselves, and yet I don’t say it to myself. “Sorry, you’re right. It’s not a big deal.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault; you’ve been brainwashed by the cosmetics industry and men with porn addictions.” A laugh chokes its way out of me. He’s right, again, but it’s the flat, matter-of-fact way he delivers it that shocks me, because he isn’t like anyone I’ve ever met. Then I remember he was raised by women and he isn’t doing it for some kind of brownie point or praise. He immediately moves on before I can even weigh in. “What do you want to do now?”
“I need to finish the book I’m reading for book club and I kind of want some fresh air. I’m also hungry. I’m also tired and want to lie down. I also need to write.”
Henry nods along until I’m done listing. “Okay. Go change into some sweatpants, please. We’re going on a date.”
I have so many questions. So, so many. Instead of asking them, I nod in agreement and disappear upstairs.
* * *
THE EXCITEMENT OF THE UNKNOWN is the thing keeping me quiet as we drive uphill in Russ’s truck.
Heat from the pizza box on my lap is keeping me warm, and the sliding and scraping sound echoing from the truck bed makes me curious. Henry told me it was a surprise, so I’m not asking questions, and frankly, there’s something about watching him drive a truck that is giving me a lot to think about.
I can’t work out if I had the dream because I’m attracted to him, or if I’m attracted to him because of the dream. Of course I’ve always known he’s attractive—I have eyes—but there’s definitely a difference between knowing something and actually being attracted to that something. Either way, I feel guilty about feeling hot and flustered over someone who’s done nothing but be a good friend to me.
When we finally stop ascending, Henry reverses into a parking spot and climbs out quickly to walk around to my side. He takes the pizza box with one hand and my hand with his other and helps me slide out. “What are we doing here?”
The view looks out across the whole city, thousands of tiny lights shimmering across the skyline. “Dating. I told you.” He hands me the pizza as he gets to work at the back. When I look over the truck side, there’s an air mattress and blankets as well as a speaker and a cooler box. “Food and fresh air, and we can play your audiobook while you lie down. If you feel like it after, you can write. Can I have your phone to get the audio up? Can you grab the drinks from the front so I can put them in the cooler?”
I swipe up on my screen to unlock and hand it over. “Henry, this is amazing. Seriously.”
Tucking the drink bottles under my arm, I close the passenger-side door with my hip. As I approach the back of the truck, that’s when I hear it, and all the bottles slip out of my grip.
The sound of moaning and skin slapping against skin is unmistakable.
“Oh my God!” It comes out as a screech at the same time the stranger in my phone moans the same three words in a much more erotic way.
The slapping slows, and the stranger talks again as I scramble onto the bed in the most unflattering way possible and crawl across the air mattress to snatch my phone from Henry’s hand. “Put it back in, put it back in,” she begs as I press pause.