Standing awkwardly in his foyer, I realized we were exactly back to where we were in Frederick. He was Henry, and I was out of my league.
“Hey.” He stood a few feet away watching me, almost frowning. “What’s wrong?”
Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t hear him come back. I’m sure I had that busted look I had when I was a kid trying to sneak a cookie. “Nothing.”
“You’re wrong,” he said, coming into my personal space. “You have no idea how amazing you are, Nick. Don’t measure your worth in dollars, or material things.”
He cupped my face, and kissed me. It was gentle yet strong, just like Henry, and my body shook with nervous energy. After a second, he pulled back and brushed my cheek with his thumb.
“I wanted that kiss last night so badly,” he said. “Thank you for giving me a second chance.”
He’d been right when he said I was drunk and we should wait. I wanted to remember every first we had together. “You can have as many as you like.”
“Remember you said that when I wear out your lips.”
The image of us engaging in a marathon make out session made my dick stir. I needed to clear my brain or else I’d embarrass myself. Instead of doing that, I doubled down. “Challenge accepted.”
Henry smiled and kissed me again, but with more heat this time. I parted my lips and he ran his tongue between them. My legs trembled and for the first time in my life my knees went weak.
We broke apart and he pressed his forehead to mine. “Wow.”
“Yeah,” I responded because I was so articulate. “You’re an amazing kisser.”
“Glad you feel that way,” he said taking my hands in his. “Because I like kissing you.”
I expected him to dip his head and kiss me again, but he didn’t. Instead, he tugged me toward the kitchen. “Let’s make dinner. It’s a work night and you need to get to bed early.”
He said the last part like I was a naughty child who stayed up too late most nights. I didn’t want to jinx things by pointing out that going to bed probably wouldn’t result in a lot of sleep.
Whether the night ended like I’d hoped or not didn’t matter anymore. The way Henry kissed me gave me the reassurance I needed.
Henry opened the small pantry off the side of the kitchen, pulling out all the ingredients he needed for dinner. He hadn’t lied when he said it was a simple meal. I stood there with nothing to do long enough it got awkward. “Can I set the table?”
“Sure. Let’s use the breakfast bar,” he said. “Plates, glasses, utensils.” Henry pointed to a different cabinet or drawer as he spoke.
Following his directions, I found everything needed to set two places for dinner.
“I was planning to have wine,” Henry said. “Not too much, of course. After all, it’s a?—”
“—Work night.” I made a face. “I know. Wine is fine.”
“Good. The wine glasses are in the cabinet around the corner.”
I walked to the cabinet, still thinking about the way Henry watched over me. It was nice, but it fueled my insecurities. The cabinet with the glasses was a beautiful piece of furniture. This was probably an example of what Henry told me in Frederick about antiques. If I had to guess, he liked itandit had value.
Henry adulted at such a higher level than me. It reminded me of the inequity in our positions and how I didn’t measure up. He’d never said anything to make me feel that way, but my dating history was filled with hot guys telling me they could do better.
I tried to push away those thoughts, but they refused to leave. As much as I wanted to trust he was different, knowing he keptsecrets gnawed at me. He’d been so nice, if he kicked me to the curb, it was going to hurt like no one else.
The lights flickered and I jerked my hand in surprise. The glass I’d been holding shattered in my hand. I let out a yelp and stumbled back, staring in shock at the blood spreading over my palm.
“Nick!” Henry’s voice was sharp with fear. A moment later, he was by my side. He had a dish towel over his shoulder, and he yanked it down and gently put it under my wrist. “What happened?”
There was no rebuke, only concern, but that didn’t quell my fears. “I’m so sorry. I… I don’t know what happened. The light… my hand jerked. I’ll buy you a new one, Henry. I didn’t mean….”
“Shh,” he whispered. “Let’s wash this.”
He guided me to the bathroom, and ran the water until he was satisfied with the temperature. I stared at my hand in disbelief. This was not the evening I had imagined. The warm water flowed over the wound, washing away the blood. Henry held my palm steady under the faucet, his expression unreadable, but there was something careful, almost focused in the way he moved.
