He had a comfortable grey couch lining two walls in his small living room. It was one of those you could nap on—one that was as deep as a twin bed with overstuffed pillows lining the back and sides. Henry sat down first, and I sat down next to him. I wasn't brave enough to touch him in any way, but I sat fairly close. The couch was gigantic, and it would have been obvious if I had sat close enough to touch him.
I left a few inches between us. We faced each other and talked about starting an action movie from the nineties about bank robbers. I did not care what we watched. I was in a strange place, having something more than normal feelings, and Henry'spresence felt like an anchor. I didn't care what movie was playing on the television, just so he was next to me.
I hardly heard any of the dialogue from the movie for all the thinking I was doing.
It was about thirty minutes in when Henry looked at me. I looked his way, and he paused the movie.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
"Are you?"
"I could eat," he said with a nod.
"Me too."
"All I have here is simple stuff. Sandwich stuff or a few frozen things."
"I don't mind a sandwich."
"Are you sure?" he asked.
I shrugged.
"I could buy some other food if you want to eat out."
I repositioned next to him on the couch so I could get a better look at him as we spoke. I kept my poker face, but it was difficult because I was caught off guard by all the attraction, and I wanted to mention how beautiful it was. It was actually flawless, and I could easily get caught staring at him.
"I'm fine with a sandwich," I said, not wanting to leave the house.
"Let's go look in my fridge, and if you change your mind, we'll get some take-out."
Henry had plenty of things to make a turkey sandwich—complete with condiments and chips, which made for a perfect dinner. I never had much of an appetite when I was traveling, anyway, so the light meal hit the spot. We stood in the kitchen to eat, and we shared a good conversation about Donna that made me feel closure.
I was so happy that Henry was there and he was available to hang out. I had wished for this sort of outcome with my trip, but I dared not hope it would actually happen. I hadn't talked to him since my last trip, and this result was sort of a best-case scenario for me. I liked Henry. I had myself worked up thinking he must've found someone by now, but it didn't seem that way. He was looking at me in a certain type of way. I was almost certain he wouldn't be doing that if he had someone else. I hoped he didn't.
He had some cookies, and we each ate one after dinner. His mom had overbaked for the funeral so that she could send some home with Henry. They were delicious chocolate cookies that I had the last time I was at her house.
"That was amazing, thank you, I'd rather have that meal than a restaurant right now."
"Yeah, it was good," he agreed.
"Do you want to finish the movie?" I asked.
He smiled and nodded at me, and we went back over to the couch. Henry took up the whole corner of it, and I sat next to him, but again, not close enough to touch him. The remote was resting on the arm of the couch, and he found it and played the movie. I grabbed a pillow and snuggled into the back of the couch, being careful not to brush against him. I was desperate to touch him, but I was way too stubborn and old-fashioned to make the first move.
Henry turned over his hand, holding his palm up, extended between us.
What was he doing? What was he offering me?
My eyes snapped up to meet his, and he grinned at me but didn't move his hand. "What's this?" I said.
"That's for you to hold."
I felt weak and wanton. My insides felt as if they were made of warm liquid as I reached out and put my hand in his. Hisskin was warm and work-worn, and I felt all sorts of bodily sensations when I touched it. I glanced up to meet his eyes again, and he smiled at me before adjusting the grasp he had on me, pulling me a little closer. He was so casual and calm about touching me that I felt like it was natural. I reclined next to him, getting situated with my hand in his. For goodness sake, I was barely touching him, and my body was buzzing out of control. We were only holding hands. And yet waves of heat and desire raced through me like a wildfire at the feel of his skin on mine. Paying attention to the movie came second to noticing the how he made me feel. Heck, the movie was way down on the list.Was there even a movie playing?Henry's hand was big and perfect, and holding it gave me all sorts of feelings.
It was warm in his house, but it was February, and I was prone to shiver. I did my best to control a set of shivers that came over me at the thought of being cold and nervous at the same time.
"Are you cold? Grab a blanket," he said. He let go of my hand and gestured to a white throw blanket that was on the couch next to me. I leaned away from him so that I could reach it, and I spread it over my legs and chest when I got settled again.
