Page 40 of Lessons in Forgiving
“Hey, I was looking for you.” It seemed Henry only noticed my company when he stood right behind me, hand gently placed on my shoulder to announce his presence.
A knowing look crossed Jack’s eyes, and we were back to square one. Disdain, annoyance.
I hadn’t dared look at Henry yet, but my entire body vibrated with the feeling of his hand on my bare shoulder, with the waythe lingering scent of beer was taken over by him, his cologne. Pinewood, citrus and bad ideas.
Something in Jack’s gaze hardened, like he’d just made a decision and was about to set it in stone.
“Work,” he hummed, grimacing. “I didn’t know screwing your ex counted as work these days.”
Henry took a single step to stand beside me, and I could feel him tense up. His hand dropped from my shoulder. I knew he wanted to say something—many things, probably. But he didn’t.
Jack did. “Last time I checked, prostitution was illegal in all fifty states.”
Henry let go of a deep sound that felt like a threat all in itself. Still, he kept himself from butting in. Just lingered.
Honestly, it took me a moment to realize Jack had just called me a slut. Essentially because I hadn’t slept with him, and now I never would.
And to a man, what could’ve been sluttier than that?
The piece of guilt I’d been carrying around, felt every time he’d texted, I’d seen him, or he’d made a move that I had regretfully rejected, died.
Despite Maeve’s suggestion, I hadn’t been stringing him along—not really. After we’d kissed that one time a few months ago, I’d been clear that nothing more would happen between us. I’d communicated honestly and without room for misunderstanding. If he’d stayed around anyway, how was it my fault for trying to be his friend?
Clearly, there was nothingfriendlybetween us. He’d just called me a slut.
“In all fifty states?” I clarified harshly. I wasn’t quite sure where the confidence came from—maybe the three beers?—but I’d roll with it. “And why’d you have to check that?”
Henry let go of an amused snicker. Jack wasnotamused by my insinuation. Obviously.
“Oh, fuck you, Paula.” His head shook as if he couldn’t believe I was talking back. Like he hadn’t expected it from the girl who’d always put his feelings before her own comfort. “Don’t start now! You’ve always been such a prude—”
“I’m not a nun, you know!” The loud music drowned out the fact that I snapped at him—basically yelled. The fierceness in my voice still took me by surprise.
“I donotknow, actually.” He clarified, fuming. Because his eyes stayed on me, he couldn’t see the way Henry’s hand balled into a fist, twitched once. I felt it, because his knuckles brushed mine. “That’s the problem, Paula! One day you kiss me, the next you’re like fucking Mother Theresa or someth—”
I exploded. “Just because I didn’t want to sleep withyoudoesn’t mean I don’t want to sleep with h—anyone else!”
And I could tell it stung by the way he didn’t immediately fire a comeback. Meanwhile, I tried tounnoticethat Henry was looking at me now.
Jack snorted in faked amusement, eyes flickering between me and the pissed-off man beside me. They settled on Henry.
For a long moment, they just looked at each other. “You know what you’re getting yourself into.” Jack said before his angry gaze flicked to me, just to make a point. “Good luck, man.”
He pushed himself off the bar to brush past us. I’m sure the way his shoulder bumped Henry’s wasn’t a coincidence. Then again, neither was the way Henry grabbed him just before he was out of reach. His green eyes shot to Jack’s. I thought he might still punch him.
All he said was, “Watch your mouth.” There was an eerie calm in Henry’s tone. He held his gaze for another moment, then pushed the blond along and spat his last name as an unkindly goodbye. “Griffin.”
In less than a second, Henry’s attention was on me. The silence between us stretched, though didn’t feel quite deafeningwith the loud music blaring. I wasn’t sure what to say, but even less sure of whathemight say.
He could latch onto all kinds of things from that conversation.You kissed him?or maybeDid you just almost say you wanted to sleep with me?I think I was holding my breath until he finally spoke.
“Has no one ever punched that guy in the face?” His words were so vastly different from what I’d imagined, the whiplash made me laugh. Genuinely burst out laughing.Cackle.
“You didn’t,” I remarked, failing to swallow the rest of my amusement.
He matched my smile. “But I really wanted to.”
And yet. “Why didn’t you?”
