Page 36 of Chasing After You
“I’m sorry. Stacey must have called them. I told her earlier we were going out tonight so she didn’t keep you late at the stadium. We can go somewhere else if you want?”
“It’s nothing I’m not used to,” I reassure Henry who is starting to look pale. It makes me feel slightly better that he’s nervous too. “The whole point of this is to be photographed together, so Stacey did the right thing. We might as well put on a good show for the cameras, right?” I ask, resisting the urge to reach over and grab his hand.
“You’re the best,” he says appreciatively, but the tension in his body remains coiled as he looks at the restaurant.
I flip a small piece of hair dramatically, hoping it’s enough to distract him. “I know.”
Thankfully, he laughs, and pulls up to the valet, climbing out of the car smoothly. I have enough time to take a deep breath and exhale as Henry opens my door, offering me his hand. I smooth my dress, climbing out in a manner that ensures I’m not flashing my goods at anyone, focusing entirely on Henry as the flashes in the background begin at a rapid rate.
If I hadn’t been in the car with him a minute ago, I would think he does this all the time with how calm he looks now. It’ll probably be in our best interest if we start traveling everywhere with sunglasses on us at all times to help with the bright lights. This reminds me of how I couldn’t go anywhere after the London games without someone shoving a camera in my face.
A hint of anxiety threatens to surface, but I can’t let it. Part of this world is faking it until you make it.
My heel catches in a crack in the pavement, sending me tumbling straight into Henry, who catches me easily and helps me straighten up. Believe it or not, it wasn’t intentional, but it is the perfect photo opportunity. I lift my head to look at him, grateful he didn’t let me fall on my ass.
His bright eyes drop to my lips, and my breathing hitches at the potential lying in our position. After all these years of pining for Henry Price, he might finally kiss me.
I tilt my head up in anticipation as his chin dips, holding my breath.
Please kiss me.
Please please please.
And then my heart sinks at the flicker of hesitation in his eyes, and I know he isn’t going to kiss me.
So I kiss him.
I curl my hand on the back of his neck to make it easier to meet his full lips as I rise up on my tiptoes, pressing my mouth softly against Henry’s. It only takes half a second for Henry to react, but his arm resting on my lower back tightens to pull me closer to him.
Fireworks explode in my chest as I lose track of everything around us, reveling at how right this feels. Henry’s hand slides into my hair, holding me in place as his mouth moves firmly against mine. It might not be real, but it sure as hell feels like he’s enjoying kissing me. It definitely doesn’t feel like he thinks he’s kissing a piece of cardboard.
A low rumble sounds from his throat as Henrydevoursme, and instead of stealing all the air from my lungs, it feels like Henry has brought me to life.
I fight against every instinct in me that wants to part my mouth and deepen the kiss, but instead, no matter how difficult it is, I pull away. The sense of wrongness is immediate, but I can’t give Henry everything the first time we kiss, I have to leave him wanting more.
If that wasn’t everything, then I’m a little nervous to find out what everything will feel like. My heart feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest.
Henry looks . . . well, I’m not quite sure what his expression means, but his hand falls slowly from my hair as he stares at me, his devastatingly handsome face illuminated by the flashing of the cameras. This isn’t the time or place to ask Henry about it either.
I compose myself, patting his chest playfully as I look over my shoulder at the photographers, winking at some of them. I wonder if they can tell how quickly my heart is hammering inside my chest, or how that kiss just changed my entire perspective of what a kiss is supposed to feel like. “Now that you all got your money shot, do you mind leaving us be to enjoy the rest of our night in peace?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Mirabelle
I KISSED HENRY. That really just happened.
If only fifteen-year-old me could see me now. She might go into cardiac shock.
I’m having a fun time with Henry, and I think he is too. He seems to have relaxed from all the stress he carries on a day-to-day basis, and I think the stick he has permanently lodged up his ass has shifted. We’re in an isolated area that has an amazing view of the night sky through the glass windows surrounding us. Only a couple of other small, clustered groups of people are up here, but they’re on the other side of the room, giving us some semblance of privacy.
Henry doesn’t seem freaked by the idea that we kissed, or at least he isn’t acting like it. Meanwhile, I’m trying to keep myself from having a major freakout. It’s taking everything in me not to run to the bathroom to call JJ or Emily.
Is it weird I want to talk to my brother about kissing Henry?
His lips were so soft, and he reacted quickly to kiss me back. And the way his hand tangled in my hair? It’s a good thing I have some serious willpower, because I’m not sure if I could pull away again. It’s almost like he needed me to take the first step, but once I did, it seemed like Henry wanted to keep kissing me—
“Mirabelle?” Henry asks, redirecting my attention back to the conversation. I blink rapidly and notice that the waiter is waiting patiently to hear my answer to whatever he just asked me.
