“And shots.”
He started steering us away, and I let my hand drift over his back until my thumb slipped into his belt loop. I resisted the urge to look back.
There was a certain magic to slow reggaeton tracks. Sultry as fuck, all bass and heat, Spanish lyrics rolling low and heavy through the speakers. In a room thick with strobing lights and sweat, they hit even harder. They made everything feel more vivid—every brush of skin, every sway of hips—an invitation to get away with touches you wouldn’t dare anywhere else. Perfect for right now. Perfect for the way Henry had his hands on me,guiding me into something almost obscene, both of us milking the rhythm for everything it could give.
For him, it was performance. Showing off for the person watching him across the room—the one he actually wanted but couldn’t walk up to.
For me, it was the same game, except I didn’t want Sebastian to just watch. I wanted him tocrave. I wanted him toburnat the sight of me in someone else’s arms. I wanted that careful control he kept around me to finally fracture. I wanted to be the spark that made him snap.
Henry slid his hands from my hips to push his hair back, sweat plastering it to his forehead. I reached up and did it for him, dragging my fingers through the strands, slow enough to sell the moment.
He arched a brow, hands returning to my hips as he leaned into my ear. “Are you up to something?”
My smile didn’t budge. “What?”
“You’re being excessively affectionate, and it’s starting to make me uncomfy—and you know it takes a lot to do that.”
“Luca called me desperate.”
Henry hissed. “And he’s still alive?”
I shrugged. “I figured I’d show him what a desperate man really looks like.”
Henry narrowed his eyes. “Oh,badEthan. You’re using me to make Ash jealous? Why am I getting dragged into this? I’m having a happy day.”
“He’ll get over it.”
Henry grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the edge of the dance floor—still in Sebastian’s line of sight, but out of the crush of bodies and sweat.
He scanned the room, then looked back at me. “He looks like he wants to murder me.”
I snorted at the flat look he gave me. “Sorry. That’s enough for tonight.”
Henry sighed. “You owe me one.”
I tugged on his shirt to bring his attention back. “What do you mean, a happy day?”
His lips curved—not tense. Just soft. “I talked to my dad about everything. It was… a good talk.”
Warmth rushed through my chest. “Yeah?”
“Mhm.” A small shrug. “I think I’m gonna try the therapy thing again. See if it sticks.”
“That’s a great idea, Henny.”
His eyes drifted to our table—to Mateo, obviously—before dropping to his feet. “I don’t want to keep missing out on everything anymore.”
When he looked back up, his eyes were a little red, and it hit me right in the gut. I threw my arms around his neck and yanked him into a hug.
Henry chuckled. “Come on, now. I don’t want to die right after I’ve had this epiphany.”
“I’m so fucking proud of you,” I said, tightening my hold until his arms finally squeezed back. “You deserve everything in this world, okay? All the best things. They should all be yours.”
Henry sniffled, a wet little laugh escaping him. “God, you’re a sappy drunk.”
I loosened my hold and cupped his face. “I’m not drunk. I just love you and your stupid face.”
Henry’s eyes glistened. “I love you and your stupid face too.”
