Page 110 of Chasing After You
We spent most of the day trying to spin the comment section of the posts from last night to do damage control, but thankfully, it didn’t seem to hurt Henry’s image at all.
I’m just pissed because I gave Miley more ammunition to use against me, making me seem like I’m a spoiled brat. But I have a feeling this will all blow over in the next day or so when something more interesting happens.
Stacey pulled me aside, ripping me a new one for how irresponsible I had been last night. She was right to ask what I was thinking because with Henry being tied to me and my name, I could have undone everything we’ve worked so hard to fix. It was stupid and irresponsible, but I promised her it wouldn’t happen again. At least she had the courtesy not to do it in front of Miley and the other interns.
My PR team reached out today, surprisingly not because of last night, but to let me know that with the Olympic Qualifiers coming up, my name has come up in more than a few articles. I would have rather they had called me to let me know anything else.
I told them to continue with the statement, I’ll be attending to support my old teammates, but I will not be competing.
I think it’s pointless to hope I’ll be able to stay out of the headlines during the Olympics, but that’s all I can do for the time being. I know I should be flattered everyone wants me to compete again, but I can’t go back to being a puppet.
I exhale, trying not to drag any of this shit inside with me as Tom’s truck pulls out of the driveway, pausing at the end to ensure I actually go into the house.I can’t blame Tom after last night.I wave at him, opening the door as the aroma from the kitchen immediately hits me.
I can hear Wilson laughing over the music coming from that direction, and some of the weight on my shoulders from the day disappears. I slip out of my heels, leaving them next to the door as I make my way toward the kitchen.
Henry and I are together.
If that can happen after all these years, then I have to believe that anything is possible.
I hover in the doorway as Henry uses the spatula to sing off-key into as Wilson doubles over. Henry sways his hips as he gently flips the salmon in the pan. For someone who can’t dance, he sure can swing his hips. I want to whistle, but I’m curious how long it will take for them to notice me.
“Since I helped you cook this, do I at least get to eat some of it before I’m supposed to hide in my room for your date night?” Wilson asks, checking the pot on the back burner.
“You don’t have to hide in your room, just maybe don’t be in the same area as us so it feels like a date,” Henry suggests, and Wilson snorts.
“Yeah, I’m still going to hide in my room. You and Mira have an aversion to being naked together in your rooms, and I’d prefer not to walk in on you again.”
Yeah, I think I’d prefer that too.
Henry shakes his head. “Sorry.”
“Whatever. I’m glad you finally pulled your head out of your ass and admitted your feelings for her. Anyone with eyes could see how bad you have it for Mirabelle, you’ve basically already been together for a couple months now.”
I clear my throat, not wanting to hear anything else unless it’s directly from Henry. They turn my direction, and Wilson smiles, turning off the burner. “Hey, perfect timing. Henry is almost done with dinner,” he says, and I look at Henry, and everything else from today feels easier to deal with.
I can’t help that my feet rush forward of their own accord, and then I’m wrapping my arms around his torso. Henry’s strong arms close around me, and I feel him chuckle. “Well, hi there,” he says, his voice sends shivers down my spine.
“Hi,” I squeak out, holding tightly tomy boyfriend.This doesn’t even feel real. I wish someone could have told my younger self not to give up on love.
“You guys are gross,” Wilson says, and my laughter mingles with Henry’s. “Get a room.”
“This is my house. All the rooms are mine,” Henry retorts as I pull away, my cheeks warming because I definitely just threw myself at him, but Henry pulls me back into his side, resting his hand on my hip as he presses a kiss to the side of my head. “Happy you’re home. I put a bottle of wine in the fridge I thought you would like,” he whispers against my hair, and I feel my breath catch.
Home.
“Me too,” I say honestly, smiling before twisting away to grab the bottle and two glasses.
“Can I just say—”
Henry cuts Wilson off as he removes the pan from the hot burner. “No, you can’t.”
I chuckle, pouring two glasses and Wilson gapes at him. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“I’ve heard you talk enough today. I want to hear about Mira’s day,” Henry says, dishing out a portion for Wilson. “Wilson, please go away,” he says, holding out the plate to him.
“But—”
“Wilson.”
