He softly pries my hands from my face and I look at him through my lashes. “If it makes you feel any better, my mom would’ve done the same thing,” he reassures me. “She wants me to settle down so bad, it’s almost comical.”
“Every time someone new comes around, my mom always gives me this look.” I eye him with a smirk on my face and a cocked eyebrow—mimickingthe look. “But she’s never actually pursued someone for me.”
“I’m glad I was the first,” he leans in closer, his eyes looking between mine, “and hopefully the last.”
I let out a quiet laugh. “You have a way with words where I can’t tell if you’re kidding or not.”
“Are you afraid you’re going to fall in love with me, Winslow?”
I stare at him, my eyes now flickering between his. I’m unsure of how to respond because truthfully, yes, I am afraid I’m going to fall for Henry.
We’re still sitting on the blanket. The silence is loud as I look down at our hands that aresoclose to touching. I want his fingers tangled in mine, again. I want that feeling forever.
He must see the movement of my head looking down through his peripheral vision because the next thing I know, his pinky is brushing against mine, intertwined in a pinky promise.
A promise of what? I’m not sure… but a promise.
“Remember, just friends,” I whisper in reluctance, hating my own words but knowing that it’s what's for the best.
The quirky grin on his face slightly falters for a second but I don’t miss it.
“Just friends,” he repeats, and I want to take those words off his lips the second he says them.
12
HENRY
“So three tasks to be done before I leave at the end of summer? Easy.” I scan Maisie’s journal in my hands. “I have one proposition for you though.”
“And that is?” She eyes me skeptically.
“I get to plan the third task.”
Her body leans into mine, looking at the page with me. It’s the first time she’s initiated being this close. I take in her scent, wanting to memorize all that is her. She smells of sunflowers and honey, a scent made for her and only her. I want to run my tongue across her collarbone to see if she tastes just the same—flowers and sweetness.
“You want to plan a date?”
“Yes,” I answer, “but I want it to be a surprise, like a real date.” I mock with a skeptical look. “It’ll just be a platonic date between two best friends, you and I,” I reassure her… and myself.
I want to bite my tongue every time the mention of us only being friends comes up. If she were to ask me right now if being friends is what I really want, I would lie. What I’d really want to tell her is that I want to explore the possibility of more.
I want to know what she likes, her biggest fears. I want to know her favorite movie, what makes her tick. I want to knoweverything.
I also want to throw her over my shoulder and toss her into the backseat of my truck and lick her from her ankles all the way to her ears. I would let her have her way with me, use me in any way she needed to.
I just want all of her, but if the only way I can have her is as a friend, then a friend I will be.
“Still insistent onbestfriends, huh?” she says, reminding me of my place.
“Well, besides Miles, you are my only friend here. I won’t come for Wren’s title, as much as I want to.”
This time she nudges me and I wonder if she feels the same shock I do every time our skin touches. “She’s got years on you but maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll make your way to the top.”
“Oh, it’s on.”
We stay at the park for another twenty minutes or so talking about the list and life, and to my unfortunate luck, it starts to rain. That comes as no surprise since Washington weather is always up in the air.
“I should probably get going so I don’t get soaking wet by the time I get home.” Maisie begins to put her stuff back in her bag and stands to gather her blanket.
