Henry hesitates, and I wish I had that type of loyalty with someone. “Kait, I want to make that promise, but if it involves Bailey, I don’t know if I can.”
I can work with that. I appreciate the honesty, at least.
“IkissedBaileyorhekissedmebutweweredefinitelykissingandnowheisnottalkingtome,” I ramble, tempted to block my vision with the pillow again so I don’t have to see the look on Henry’s face.
“Um, maybe I’m getting fucking old, but I need you to repeat that slower.”
Seriously?I hug the pillow to my chest, clinging to it like a life jacket, and take a deep breath. “I kissed Bailey, or he kissed me. I’m not sure who started it, but we kissed the other night. I don’t know what to do, Henry.”
His mouth parts at the same time his eyes widen, and I’m not sure he’s breathing. I might’ve broken him.
“Can you say something?” I ask, too impatient to wait for him to think of whatever wise bullshit he thinks he should say.
“Need a minute.” He shakes his head, standing up, and I feel my stomach plummet.
Was it a mistake to tell Henry? Should I have not done that?
I mean, there’s always a chance it might not work out with Bailey, but I’m really hoping it will. Statistically, your first love isn’t always your last love, but it just felt so right in that moment on the beach. The way B was looking at me made me feel like I was the center of his universe.
Bailey has always felt everything so deeply, and I’ve wondered if he’d love someone the same way.
As if knowing I’m daydreaming about his brother, my phone vibrates on the couch next to me with a text from Hunter.
Hunter
When are you coming back?
Kaitlyn
Not until tomorrow.
Hunter
I’m bored.
Kaitlyn
Sorry!
Hunter
:(
Henry walks back into the living room, and I drop my phone in my lap. “Are you mad?” I ask, and Henry looks confused.
“I’m not mad. Mildly irritated you didn’t tell me sooner, but I’m also trying to pretend you didn’t tell me at all. I’m your older brother, and I know exactly how teenage boys think, and you picked a Walker boy?”
I guess I should be glad my crush isn’t nearly as noticeable as Mirabelle’s on Henry, but wow—the irony is astonishing.
“I feel like you can’t judge me because you’re literally dating the Walker girl,” I point out, and he rolls his eyes as if that’s beside the point.
“This isn’t about me right now,” he argues, and I cross my arms over my chest.
“Well, maybe it should be. I mean, maybe you can help me figure out what’s going on. How did you feel the first time you kissed Mirabelle?” I ask, genuinely curious because he’s obviously obsessed with Mira. He can’t take his eyes off her for longer than a few minutes when they’re in the same room.
It’s kind of how I feel with Bailey.
Henry looks away, and I don’t know if it’s because this is new territory for us, considering we’ve never talked about our romantic feelings beyond poking fun at each other. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk to me about this.
