"That guy's your friend now? You mean the one you met today?"
"Connor? Yes. We're friends. I don't know about you, but I can make friends with someone on the first day I meet them. I mean, I would consider you a friend, and we—"
"We've known each other for way more than a day."
"Yeah, you're right," I said, smiling inwardly at his frustration.
"And I live here, too, so I know the most fun places to go. You don't need to go out with Donna's grandkids. I mean, I'll be the one to take you out if you want to go somewhere."
A whole swarm of butterflies started flapping their tiny little wings, and suddenly my insides were alight with new and wonderful sensations. He was jealous and he was asking me out.
"Where would you take me?" I asked innocently.
"Where do you want to go?" He glanced at me from over the center console.
"Are you jealous of Connor?"
I instantly regretted saying it. I had never in my life said something so forward and flirty to a man.
I felt mortified, so I said, "I'm joking," right after I said it.
He glanced at me. "Yeah, I would rather you spend time with me than go out with him. If that's what you mean by jealous, then, yeah…" He trailed off and shrugged. He wasn't openly admitting he was jealous, but he also wasn't denying it. Henry Sutter was taking my breath away. He was a perfect male specimen. I felt a warm wave of happiness thought of him being jealous of me. He wasn't fully admitting it either.Was I suddenly wishing and hoping that he would be jealous?Henry was an alpha male type, and I loved that about him.
He had some indie rock playing on the radio, and he turned it up while we were driving. We were quiet for a minute, and then I turned to him and said, "Where are we going?"
"My house. I'm changing. I'll take you wherever you want to go after that." He looked at me to make sure that was okay, and I nodded.
Again, we were quiet, listening to the music. I was nervous and excited about going to Henry's house. I started daydreaming about hanging out at his place for an extended period of time. I wanted to sit on his couch and watch a movie. I pictured doing that with him next to me. I wanted to fall asleep on his couch and stay there instead of the house I had rented. Of course, I would never tell him what I was thinking.
In no time, we were pulling into his driveway. I recognized his place from the last time I was here, but I hadn't been by here on this trip.
"Are you coming inside?" he asked before he turned off his truck.
"Yeah, I thought so," I said, probably a little too quickly.
Henry turned off his truck, and I got out by myself before he had the chance to come around. There were a few cars at Donna's since some of her family was staying at her house. I didn't pay them any attention. I was focused on Henry's place,looking at how he kept everything. It was neat and tidy—an off white wooden house with some evergreen shrubs in the front.
"I like your house," I said.
"Thank you. It's a work in progress."
"I remember you saying you were working on flipping it, eventually. How's that going?"
He opened the door and stood back, holding it while I walked inside. "See for yourself," he said.
"Thank you," I said, smiling and looking around when Henry turned on the lights. "Oh, this is so nice," I said, feeling like I was on a movie set. The décor in the kitchen and living room matched. There were a lot of grays and whites, and it was modern and updated for the age of the house.
"My mom and sister picked everything," he said. "I have a workshop in the backyard where I spend a lot of time when I'm here. I really didn't care how the rest of the house was decorated, so I got help from them, and I like it. They did great."
He tossed his keys onto the bar as he took off, heading toward the hallway. I followed him as far as the living room, where I stopped and looked at some of his family pictures that were on a shelf in frames. I leaned in and studied one of Henry when he was younger, smiling at how he had been standing next to a horse. I felt a yearning sensation when I looked at Henry's picture—like my heart was full of nostalgia and comfort at the sight of him.
I could hear Henry coming back down the hall, so I spoke to him. "I'm looking at your pictures from when you were a—"
I stopped talking when I turned and was confronted with another view of his stunning bare chest. Henry was no more than five feet from me, and he was half-naked again. It could have been closer than five feet. However far it was, it was the perfect distance for my eyes to focus on every curve of everymuscle. It was stunning. He was stunning. I could not peel my eyes from him.
"You can, uh, could you, uh, just put on that shirt that's in your hand?" I said, since it was too much to behold.
Henry knew what he was doing. He started opening the shirt that was in his hands, but he was going way too slow, and his perfect torso flexed as he stretched it over his head and shrugged into it. It was comical how much of a male model he was.
