I lifted the duvet. “In you go.”
Kate obeyed and crawled under it. “Are you coming?”
“In a minute,” I promised, and she sank deep into the pillow.
I switched on the lamp on my bedside table and turned off the overhead light before pulling shorts and a T-shirt out of my walk-in wardrobe. I headed to the bathroom. I was still rock-hard, but I couldn’t take advantage of Kate in her current state. Which meant I had to take care of it myself. After getting myself off in the shower, I got dressed, brushed my teeth, and returned to the bedroom.
Kate had rolled onto her side, and her eyes were closed. I joined her under the duvet and turned off the light, despite not being at all tired. Exhausted? Yes. Tired? No. My body was still thrumming. I rolled towards Kate. She opened her eyes and looked at me sleepily. My heart pounded as her lips curled into a faint smile, as if she were happy that I was there.
I moved closer, draping an arm around her waist. A strange, warm feeling flooded my chest, spreading through my body and relaxing my tense muscles. My heart, which had been racing just moments ago, steadied. All because of Kate. Without any effort at all, she managed to stop my chaotic world from spinning.
“Henry?” Kate asked, her eyes already closed again.
“Yes?”
“I like you.”
“I like you too.”
“Yes, but I like you the most,” she mumbled tiredly, and then she was asleep, her breaths deep and even.
I smiled and kissed her forehead—gently, not wanting to wake her.
48
Oh my god! Have you seen the interview yet? How are you? More importantly, how’s Kate? He’s such an arsehole!
Message from Olivia to Henry
Kate
My head buzzed as if an entire swarm of bees had taken up residence in it. What had I been thinking, drinking so much? The beer, the cocktail, the shots—they’d felt like harmless fun last night. Today, though, the effect of the alcohol was anything but harmless—it was painful. Groaning, I turned in the big bed. The sheets smelled of Henry, but he was no longer there. I usually woke up when he did, but the alcohol seemed to have knocked me out completely. I wondered if Grace also felt this bad.
I opened my eyes, grateful for the blinds that blocked out the daylight, and scanned Henry’s bedroom. I spotted my phone on the bedside table, next to a bottle of water and a small box with a Post-it note attached. I switched on the lamp, enraging the swarmof bees in my head. Peeling the Post-it note off the box, I saw that it was a packet of painkillers. The note was from Henry. After several attempts, I finally managed to decipher the scrawl of his barely legible handwriting.
Good morning, angel.
I’m sorry I had to go to the office. The tablets should help with the headaches. And drink the water (the whole bottle!!).
Henry
PS: I like you the most too.
PPS: I’m looking forward to kissing you all over.
I felt suddenly hot. A memory of the previous night washed over me—how I had gone to Henry’s office and practically ordered him to take me to bed. He had looked after me, and I’d demanded he explore my body with his lips before confessing how much I liked him.
I took two tablets from the packet and drank the entire bottle of water, just as Henry had instructed. I soon felt better, and the swarm of bees in my head gradually disappeared. My mind clearer, I reached for my phone to thank him, only to find the battery dead—it must have run out overnight. I stayed in bed a little longer before forcing myself to get up and find my clothes. They smelled unpleasantly of the pub, but I slipped them on anyway.
I left Henry’s apartment and hurried to the lift, hoping to avoid encountering anyone, but my plan was foiled—I ran straight into Ethan. His bloodshot eyes, crumpled clothes, and the vivid love-bite on his neck made me think he was just getting home from a long night of partying. His eyes met mine, and his lips twisted into a grim smile.
“Hey,” I said, my voice still rough.
Ethan’s eyes flashed. “Hey,Kate.”
There was something strange about the way he said my name, as if there were a hidden meaning I was supposed to catch. Maybe I was imagining it. Or maybe he was still drunk and it was an effort to speak, just as it had been for me the night before. A little unsettled by our odd encounter, I sidestepped him and headed for the lifts.
When the lift stopped at the third floor and a room attendant stepped in, I realised something wasn’t quite right. Her eyes widened at the sight of me, and she muttered a quick, “Good morning,” avoiding my gaze as the lift descended.
