Beep.
Beep.
The oven timer goes off, the smell of pizza coming back to my senses.
“Sounds like the pizza is done, do you want any now? Or I can heat it up for you later.” He moves the blanket from his lap, getting up from his chair.
“Oh, I can get it, you don’t have to.” I start to get up myself but Henry is already standing above me with a stern look on his face.
“I don’t think so. Stay there and let me take care of you.”
My eyes begin to wander because just like me, he’s dressed in pretty laid back attire. His black shirt fits him like skin, his muscular arms faint with hair. Peering lower, I don’t miss the minor flex of his biceps as he lifts his arm to run a hand through his hair and that’s when I’m reminded of the sharp V pointed lower with manly hair going south into his waistband. I think he wants to kill me as I notice the slight outline of his cock under his gray sweatpants. I want to run my finger across the skin just above the sweats, moving lower just for a touch of what lays underneath.
“My eyes are up here.” I feel his hand tilt my chin up before I make note of the words that came out of his mouth. “Let me take care of you.”
Blinking out of my haze, I say, “I’m not dying. I just have cramps.”
“Well, I don’t. So let me do the honor and take care of you. Please.” His eyes are full of want. Want to take care of me or want forme,I’ll never know.
“Watch out, Bellwood, I might start to think you’re falling in love with me,” I say jokingly, though it comes out anything but. His fingers still hold my chin and his eyes look over me like he really does care for me.
Shyly laughing and heading to the kitchen, he mumbles, “It’s hard not to,” probably assuming I can’t hear him, but I can.
It’s hard to believe that anyonecouldever love me like that. Sure I have the love of my mom and Wren, but that’s just family love. I’ve never been in love before, nor has anyone loved me in a romantic way.
I hear the opening and closing of drawers and cupboards then remember that Henry has no idea where anything is here. “The pizza cutter is in the second drawer to the left, and plates are in the cupboard to the right of the oven.”
“What did I say about you staying put?”
“I am put,” I say sarcastically. “I’m just helping you help me.”
“In my defense, I was actually going to check that exact drawer and cupboard next.”
“I’m so sure you were,” I say and watch his back shake as he chuckles to himself. I don’t look away as he moves around my kitchen, his back to me the whole time. This time I’m not ogling his body but just watching the way he moves. He walks around my space like it’s his own home, like he knows the blueprint from memory.
I can’t see his face but I catch a glimpse of his side profile as he strides to the sink, a small smirk plastered on his lips.
What is he smiling about to himself?
With two plates in hand, he walks back into the living room, once again looking like this space was made for him.
Like he was made to be here with me.
“A Henry Bellwood tried and true, Ruby Lake Grocery frozen pepperoni pizza.” He sets both plates down on the coffee table. “I also bought you an iced coffee. It's been in the fridge since you were sleeping but I’m sure it's still good if you’d like it now.”
“Getting this treatment makes me wish I wasn’t feeling good everyday.” I laugh, leaning in to grab a slice of pizza. “I would love my coffee, thank you.”
He saunters back into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and he looks over his shoulder at me. “What movie do you feel like watching?”
Pizza in hand, wrapped in my blanket, I ponder the question. It shouldn’t be that hard but I know if we watch a romance movie, it’ll put out the wrong idea, and I don’t do scary movies. Maybe a comedy? Something nostalgic?
“I can feel you thinking way too hard over there, Winslow.” He’s walking back over with my coffee and a few napkins. “What about we have a High School Musical marathon?”
“You’d be stuck with me for like… six hours”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. One day you’ll realize Idowant to hang out with you.” He looks at my mouth as I open it for a bite of pizza, his eyes not leaving me once as I chew; even when I lick my lips, his eyes don’t adjust. He clears his throat, fixing his eyes back on mine. “You can kick me out whenever you want but I’ll stay as long as you allow me. Plus you know how much I love High School Musical.”
“Marathon it is!”
