Page 54 of Lessons in Forgiving
I whirled around in my seat with a fierce glare, ready to throw the next undeserving harsh words at him. I didn’t, becauseinstead of the smirk, the teasing gleam in his eyes I’d expected, Henry held a protein bar toward me with an eyebrow raised.
“What’s this?” I asked like a dumbass. Like it didn’t say on the packaging in bold, capital letters.
Some of his brown hair fell into his face, tilting his head like he thought the same thing. “You’re hungry.”Masterful deduction.
“I’m vegan.”
He turned the bar in his hand. “I know.” And honestly, he sounded a little exasperated at that point. I couldn’t blame him, and anyway, I was only looking at the V-label in the corner of the protein bar.
Reluctantly, I took it out of his hand, and my stomach roared so loudly, man in black behind the wheel—Andy—could probably hear it.
“Have you been carrying this around for a year?” I asked, ripping the package. Honestly, I did not care if he had.
“No.” He threw a pointed look my way. “I got used to having food around when we went out together, and it kind of stuck with me. I just adjusted from Oreos to… well.” He gestured to the bar in my hand, one bite already missing.
“To protein bars.” I finished his sentence, mouth still full.
Henry tried to suppress a smile at that, and I tried to force a scowl. Neither of us succeeded.
“So,” I hummed, spirits suddenly lifted after the second bite. Like the past twenty minutes hadn’t happened at all. “Vegan pancakes. Vegan protein bars. Are you sure you haven’t adjusted your diet?”
Henry barked a laugh, and I really could get used to the sound of it again. Leaning into his seat, shoulders sagging, he shook his head in amusement. “Just trying to up your daily intake from those ten grams of protein you mentioned,” he joked.
That protein bar was gone quicker than I’d thought, though at least now the mind-riddling, insanity-inducing hunger pains were taken care of. By the time we approached the hotel, I almost felt like a human being again.
“Hey,” Henry said, voice gentle, quiet beside me. “About the flight.” When I looked at him, he scratched the back of his neck only to be doing something, it seemed.
I’d done my best to ignore the fact I’d basically left him alone with his fear of—or at least discomfort with—flying for an hour, if only not to deal with a guilty conscience. Because if I remembered correctly, I was fast asleep by takeoff.
“I really did switch seats to be there for you!” I blurted. Before he could accuse me of being a horrible… friend, then tell me not to use what he’d revealed in the article. Which I wouldn’t, obviously. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” he asked, puzzled. “Why? What could have possibly been more reassuring than you, Paula?”
My breath accidentally caught in my throat, and it was hard work trying to hide it with my next one.Friend, friend, friend, I reminded myself.
“Bad jokes, statistics about how unlikely crashes are, reassuring hand squeezing! Honestly, just being awake during takeoff and landing.”
He huffed, almost laughed. “It just means you didn’t have to see my sweaty palms and weak knees. Win-win.” The thought only made my insides clench harder. “As for the reassuring hand squeezes.”
I shouldn’t have mentioned those out loud.
“The way you clung to my arm like it might detach from my body if you didn’t…” He let the words linger between us on purpose. “Very reassuring. I think I might’ve even slept for a minute or two.”
The smile on my face turned sheepish, solely to distract from the added color in my cheeks. “No!” I gasped. “That many?”
The car rolled to a stop before he could reply, and his driver opened Henry’s door for us to step out—right into the lobby of a hotel that looked like it offered a standard rate of myDaisy’ssalary when I’d still picked up shifts regularly.
I went to grab my bag from the trunk, but Henry held me by the shoulder just long enough to notice the bellhop, who’d taken the task on himself. A minute later, our bags rolled past us without either of us lifting a finger.
Honestly, until now I hadn’t been sure bellhops weren’t just a thing in movies—had never stayed in hotels expensive enough for them to be real.
“You get used to it,” Henry said lowly, responding to the look on my face. His hand dropped from where it sprawled across my shoulder. While he slipped our…luggage mana twenty-dollar tip, I tried to keep my mind from replaying his whispered words on repeat. Rough voice, amusement etched into the sound.
Mierda. I’m in so much trouble.
I never would’ve thought hotels with a nightly rate of over half a grand could ever be fully booked. Today, I’d learned that theycould–-and ours was. Which meant our rooms were still being turned over and we’d only be able to check in after three PM.
Henry, of course, hadn’t planned for time in our rooms anyway, and he seemed only half as distraught by the minor change of plans.
