“How very Norman Rockwell,” DeeDee gushes, leaning across the bar and beaming at us.“Jay would’ve loved this.With the jukebox playing, it feels like he’s here.”
Henry smiles.“Yeah, it does.”
“Besides, he never said no to a party,” DeeDee laughs, and Henry seems warmed by the memory.
Soon, Ivy declares Henry and me Prom King and Queen.She and Marnie adorn us with handmade crowns, gaudy and bejeweled but brilliant.We take pictures and act silly.We laugh over our guests’ bad prom stories.
We pick songs on the jukebox, and everyone starts dancing, like we’re in a musical.It’s surreal and vivid, like stepping into a painting in a museum.The queens teach us to shag, barely, and by the end, we’re hot and sweaty and laughing hysterically.
Somewhere in the midst ofournight withourpeople, I imagine that Icouldstay.Here.Forever.That I could give up tents and wild rivers and mountainsides for something just as beautiful.Milkshakes, holding hands, camping in the backyard.I could buy a little house, get a dog, and have a job that keeps to regular business hours.I could be here for Ivy and Dad.But especially for Henry and Olly.
I could stay.I could be veryhappy.
It’s the best night I’ve ever had.And for once in my life, I can’t stop smiling.
CHAPTER39
Henry
The streets arequiet as we walk home, arms latched around each other like we can’t bear to be apart.My last-minute prom came together perfectly, thanks to DeeDee and Ivy, especially.As soon as I shared my idea with them, they took over to make it happen.I’ll never forget the look on Venus’s face when we walked into the diner—blissful and beautiful, moved to tears.
Even now, she’s smiling, like she can’t stop.
I don’t know what will happen with us.If the past has taught me anything, it’s that the moment I believe I have it all figured out, everything changes a breath later.Despite our amazing night and the love we share, Venus has tough choices ahead.She’ll decide our fate, and I sense those hesitations that I missed years ago.Behind her happiness, she is uneasy and unsure—anyone in her position would be—and I honestly can’t say where she’ll land.
But tonight I feel like I’ve restored some of what we lost then.I showed her that she’s loved and wanted.And that’s what I’ll continue to do, as long as she lets me.
Closing the door to my apartment, my hand in hers, I blink and imagine thousands of versions of us arriving home like this—different clothes, different times of day, with Olly, with Ivy, carrying groceries.The home we’re walking into changes too—a Christmas tree in the corner, a larger bookshelf, a dog, way more plants.She kisses me near the door, and I think this is where we’ll kiss each other goodbye in the mornings and greet each other at sunsets.I think of her keys hanging beside mine on the rack and her mug next to mine on the counter.They’re sweet and simple images I shouldn’t let myself have, but I can’t help it.
Tonight’s been perfect, so I might as well let my mind drift to those perfect places while they’re still in view.
In the bedroom, she takes her time, peeling me out of my jacket, her hands lingering on my shoulders and arms.The tie goes next, one delicate tug at a time, like she wants me in my suit for as long as she can stand it.Her fingers dance along the buttons of my shirt, and she leaves kisses along my chest as she undoes each one.She unfastens my belt slowly, eases my pants lower, and her eyes go wide as she explores me.
I remove her dress in less time, but nothing is hurried or frantic.It’s slow and sweet and fucking sexy.My hands roam over her bare skin, loving how familiar she is to me now, kissing her sensitive places, enjoying her curves and her soft moans when I touch her just right.
I tug on the ends of her scarf, but we break into laughter when I create a knot.She teases it free, sending her gorgeous hair down like ribbons around her.
I take the scarf from her hand.It’s long, pink, and silky-soft, like grass in the summer, tickling our ankles.I hold the delicate fabric between us, struck with a strange and sudden desire—it’s a longing, desperate and powerful, to keep her here.To feel her surrender.“Um, I want to… would you let me…”
I shake my head, giving up on words that I’m too nervous to say.I take her hand, removing her jewelry before gently wrapping the silk around her wrist.I tie one end of the scarf in place, showing her what I mean.
Her irises widen to deep green, and she looks breathless, wanting, beautiful.“Yes, Henry.”
The hitch in her voice reveals nerves and excitement—the same as I feel, attempting something I’ve never done before.But I long to feel her trust, to give her comfort and pleasure, to be adventurous.
She lies down on the bed, open for me.I place her tied wrist above her head, and loop the scarf over a notch on the headboard.My fingers trail down her suspended arm, across her breasts, and up her free hand, guiding it to meet the other.Secured into place, she gives her binding a downward tug and smiles her approval when it doesn’t budge.
“Take me, Henry.”
Hearing those words, seeing her like this—arms over her head, hands tied, her chest practically heaving for me to touch her, her pleasure at my mercy—I’m overrun with need, desperate to take her immediately.
I savor her instead.I touch the silk of her bindings before skirting my fingertips gently down her wrists and arms, making her cheeks flush red with heat.She’s hyper-responsive, each touch inciting gasps and moans, as if the inability to use her hands has heightened her nerve endings.
She is fucking loving this.
I kiss and explore her, inch by inch.She’s ticklish behind her knees.Touching the tip of her breast just a little makes her back arch.The more I tease her, the more her need builds until she’s writhing under my hands and moaning my name.
When I kiss her thighs and settle between her legs, licking and teasing her clit, she wraps them around me, squeezing me against her tightly.I laugh at how frantic she is.Her sweet moans.Calling my name.Using her legs to insist I keep going.She’s so turned on, so ready, that she comes for the first time in seconds.
