Chapter Eight
What you doing? I glanced down at the text from Henry and smiled.
Nothing. You?
Thinking of you.
Aw. Isn’t that sweet!
My heart fluttered at his words. Maybe he did care after all. I almost laughed at my thoughts. I was in such denial. It had only been a couple of days since he’d told me not to fall for him, yet here I was already wishing he was falling for me. I was out of my mind and I knew that these were signs that I should be paying attention to before I accepted his deal.
Not sweet. Just true. Wish you were here in my bed right now.
I see. I wished I were in his bed as well. But I couldn’t say yes until I was sure I wasn’t totally screwing myself over. And I just wasn’t sure.
I wish I was inside of you right now. My stomach flipped when I read that and I shifted in my bed. How was it possible for him to turn me on so much? Even over text message?
Uh huh. I’m sure you do.
I do. I want to slide into you, deep and hard.
Henry! I’m speechless. I giggled as I hit send. My panties were starting to grow wet, and I closed my eyes for a few seconds before I heard the beep of the phone indicating he’d sent another text message.
Told you I wasn’t sweet. As if I didn’t already know that.
I guess you got me.
Do I have you?
What do you mean? My heart froze.
Do I have you?
Do you want me? I knew that I wasn’t talking about sex and I sighed as I waited for his response.
Do you want me?
I’m too tired for this, Henry. What do you want? I didn’t understand why he was saying and asking me these things. It wasn’t as if he really wanted me to want him. I knew I was frustrated because I wanted him to want me as something special. But all he cared about was the sexual want. He’d made it perfectly clear that he didn’t do commitments. That he was never going to get married, and that if he did, it wasn’t going to be to a girl like me. I wasn’t what he saw in his future. I didn’t have the qualities of his dream girl.
Not that he’d said those words, exactly, but it was obvious. I was just a girl. The girl of the moment. I tried not to think about it. It hurt me too much. It stung. Like hell. Really stung. If I thought about it too hard, I’d cry. And then I’d be depressed. And then I’d realize that I was making a big mistake even considering his proposition. Maybe being with him, accepting the agreement, wasn’t in my best interests. He wasn’t in my best interests. He wasn’t the guy for me. He wasn’t a guy I could rely on. He wasn’t a guy that I could fall in love with who would love me back. He wasn’t a guy who was going to give me the happily ever after that I craved. He wasn’t going to give me the happy, perfect family that I always saw myself having, and I wasn’t sure why I even had that as a possibility in my mind. I wasn’t sure why I allowed myself to hope that things would be different. They would never be different. He’d told me several times not to fall in love with him. And that wasn’t going to change. No matter what I wished. I kept looking at things he was saying and wishing that the meanings behind his words were different, but they weren’t. When he asked me if I wanted him, I wanted him to be asking me if I wanted him for forever. I wanted him to be telling me that he wanted me for forever, but I knew that that wasn’t what he was saying. I knew in my heart that I should back away. Now. I hadn’t even slept with him, and I was already hoping for a different outcome.
I told you what I want. You know what I want.
Me in your bed? I sighed as I typed it. Why couldn’t he be more romantic? Why couldn’t he want me for more than that? Why was I even considering his proposition? Did I really want to sleep with him that badly?
Doesn’t have to be in the bed.
Ha, okay. I rubbed my eyes, suddenly feeling tired. Why was I engaging with him? What was my problem?
Could be on the bathroom counter, the shower stall, the kitchen table, you name it.
Good night, Henry.
Lacey, wait.
Yes?
Don’t go to sleep.
Why not? I knew I should just turn my phone off and go to sleep, but I couldn’t stop myself.
I want to talk to you.
It seems like all you really want to do is sext.
Is this sexting?
It seems like you’re trying.
Do you want to try?
No, I don’t want to sext with you, Henry.
Aww, that makes me sad.
Uh huh.
Don’t you like me?
I’m tired, Henry. I don’t have time for this.
You don’t have time for me? Why are you so tired?
Because I’ve been writing all day.
Can I see you tomorrow?
I don’t have an answer yet, Henry.
That’s fine. I just want to see you.
What do you want to do? My toes curled up in hope—please ask me out for a proper date. Please ask me out for a proper date.
Maybe you can come over after work? I could order a pizza.
Netflix and chill, huh? I just told you that I haven’t made up my mind yet about if I want to go forward with your proposition. I rolled my eyes as I lay back in the bed. Why had I thought that his suggestion for tomorrow was going to be anything different from what he normally asked me to do? Why was I still hoping that he would change his mind and offer me something more than he already had?
If that’s what you want to call it.
I’m busy, Henry.
What if I take you out to dinner?
Where would you take me?
Where would you want to go?
Somewhere nice. I figured I might as well put my expectations out there and on the line. If I wanted him to take me somewhere nice, he had to know that pizza, no matter how fancy and delicious, at his place was not good enough.
What about French food?
French food is good. I smiled to myself. Maybe this wasn’t so hard after all?
Okay, I know a cute little place I can take you to.
Awesome.
So you’re free to hang out tomorrow now?
Yes, I guess I am.
Good. Can I call you?
Call me for what?
I want to hear your voice.
I’m not going to have phone sex with you, Henry.
That’s not why I wanted to call you.
Why did you want to call me?
I already told you. I want to hear your voice.
Henry.
Lacey.
Henry.
Yes, Lacey. That is the name I was born with.
You’re a goof.
You can tell me this over the phone.
I am telling you this over the phone.
You can tell me this while we chat with each other.
Henry, we can chat with each other tomorrow.
Can’t you just give me five minutes?
Do you really just want five minutes?
Yes! I just want to hear your beautiful voice.
You’re such a smooth talker.
I guess I am.
Fine. You can call me. However, just for five minutes. I’m tired. I already told you that.
Fine, if five minutes is all that I have, then five minutes will be all that I need. I just want to appreciate that I can hear your voice, delight in it, for as long as you’ll let me.
Keep this up and you’ll have no minutes to hear my average voice. I rolled my eyes again, but I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. Maybe he did like me a little bit after all. I knew that those were dangerous thoughts to have. I knew that I shouldn’t have any hope. That Henry was never going to be my Prince Charming, but I couldn’t stop myself from thinking that perhaps a miracle could happen.
Ring ring! My phone started vibrating and I let it ring a couple of times before answering.
“Hello?” I said, my voice curious as if I didn’t know exactly who was calling. I felt like a bit of an idiot pretending that I wasn’t sure who was on the phone, but this wasn’t the first time that I’d felt like an idiot in his presence.
“What were you doing? You took long enough to answer the phone.” Henry sounded amused, and I smiled as I lay back. His voice was warm and sexy and I enjoyed the sound of it in my ears.
“I answered the phone as soon as you rang,” I lied smoothly.
“Liar,” he said, his voice dropping and sounding even sexier to my ears.
“Would I ever lie?” I said with a small giggle, happy to hear his voice. I loved the deep, warm baritone of his voice, and talking to him always made me feel warm inside, and that was really part of the problem. That was why I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want to fall for him any more than I already had. Having hope was okay, and not completely devastating, only if I didn’t fall in love with him. However, if I fell in love with him, then having hope would break me. Absolutely break me. I had to ensure that I was protecting my heart when I was with him. I knew I was falling for him. Knew I was playing with fire, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care that he was never going to be able to fulfill all my needs. He was never going to be the man that I wanted. He was never going to provide me with that fairy-tale ending. He was never going to love me and adore me and sweep me off of my feet, and that was all I really craved and wanted. I didn’t know if I was being a fool by entertaining him for this long.
Actually that was a lie. I knew that I was being a fool. A really big fool.
“I don’t know, Lacey. Would you ever lie?” He cleared his throat. “I sure hope not. I sure hope that everything you say to me is the truth.”
“I feel the same way,” I said, not really knowing why. Everything he said to me was almost too honest. A part of me wanted him to lie to me. A part of me wanted him to tell me that he was falling for me. That he was starting to feel things for me. Even if it wasn’t true. I knew that was unhealthy. I knew that I was lucky that he wasn’t lying to get into my pants, but it didn’t make me feel better.
“I would never lie to you, Lacey.”
“Really?”
“Really.” His tone changed. “I don’t believe in lies. I don’t see the point. We’re both adults, we should be on the same page.”
“I’m on the same page as you. I don’t believe in lies either.” My voice lowered. Though that wasn’t completely true. I didn’t want to know the truth in all things. I didn’t want to know bad things. I didn’t want to know things that might break me. I didn’t want to know things that might make me feel badly about myself. I didn’t want to hear about his exes. Or if he’d been in love before. In fact, if he’d been in love before, I didn’t want to know about it, period. I would rather think that he was incapable of loving someone, rather than knowing that he just couldn’t love me.
“Well, that’s good. Are you excited for our date tomorrow?”
“Are we calling it a date?” I asked in surprise. His rules had explicitly stated that none of our meetings were to be considered dates.
“Well, I’m taking you out to dinner at a nice French restaurant, what else would you call it?” he said dryly.
“I mean, I would call it a date, but your proposition rules explicitly stated that any meetings we have are not meant to be considered dates. Remember, that’s what you said to me. None of this is dating or anything real.”
“But you haven’t accepted my proposition yet, so this doesn’t really count.”
“Hmm, okay,” I said softly. “You’re the one that told me the rules. Now you’re the one texting and calling me. You’re the one wanting to take me out to dinner. This goes against what you said.”
“Let’s just agree to disagree. A dinner is just a dinner. You shouldn’t read anything more into it.” His tone was terse.
“I’m not reading anything into it,” I snapped.
“It seems to me that you are.”
“You really are an asshole, Henry.”
“Let’s not argue.”
“I’m not trying to argue with you.” I sighed. How quickly the conversation had gone sour. A part of me was screaming to hang up the phone now and delete his number and never look back.
“Well, you know I don’t want to waste the five minutes we have talking about the agreement or arguing about whether or not our date tomorrow is a date.”
“Fine, it’s a date.” I stuck my tongue out at the phone, wishing he could see the annoyance in my eyes. “Or rather a non-date, because two people in our situation aren’t really going on a date. We’re just hanging out, right?”
“Hanging out or date. It’s whatever you want to call it.”
“You’re so frustrating. Why don’t we just call it a dinner and be done?”
“That’s what I said.”
“I mean if we’re really being honest, let’s call it what it really is. A dinner with the potential for a hookup.”
“What?”
“I mean this all started with a quick text asking if I wanted to come over for pizza and sex.”
“I never asked you if you wanted to come over for sex.” He sighed.
“Oh, okay, so you just wanted me to come over for pizza and a quick hug.”
“A quick hug or a slow hug would have been fine,” he said dryly.
“That’s good to know. So that’s all you’re expecting tomorrow then? A hug?”
“I’m not actually expecting anything.”
“Hmm, interesting.” That I didn’t believe. If he thought I didn’t know he wanted me in his bed, then he must have thought I was stupid.
“I’m not expecting anything, but if you want to offer me something, I’m not going to say no to it.”
“Was that ever in doubt?” I said, rolling my eyes even though I knew he couldn’t see me.
“I wasn’t sure if you were worried that I wouldn’t make a move?”
“Why would I be worried about that?”
“I know how you women are.”
“Excuse me?” My voice was tinged with annoyance.
“What am I excusing you for?”
“Henry James, you’re an asshole.”
“I am?”
“Yes, you are. A very big asshole.”
“Thank you. I love getting compliments.”
“It wasn’t intended to be a compliment.”
“Talk dirty to me, Lacey. Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you.” His voice grew lower, and I gasped in shock.
“What? Are you joking me right now?” I almost screeched.
“Tell me how you want me to take you. Tell me how you want me to devour you. To eat you. To make you—”
“Stop right there, you’re being entirely inappropriate. I cannot believe that you think I would be cool with this.”
“But you called me an asshole, I wanted to live up to your expectations. I’m trying not to disappoint you, Lacey.”
“I have no idea what to say. You’re possibly the most arrogant and ridiculous man I’ve ever met in my life. You really are a big ass—”
“Really?” He chuckled. “Is that your way of saying you want me to offer to lick your asshole?”
“That’s it, Henry. I’m gone.” I hung up the phone and then powered it off so that I wouldn’t be tempted to pick him up if he tried calling me back. I lay on the bed, my heart beating fast as I thought back to the conversation that we’d had. I didn’t understand him. Was he being serious? Was he teasing me? What did he really want from me? Why was I letting him drive me so crazy? I needed to just not talk to him. I needed to cut him out of my life before things got too complicated. The last thing I needed was bad feelings from a guy who I already knew was going to be bad news. That was like asking for trouble. That was like walking into a room full of fire, knowing that the fire was scorching hot and going to burn you before you even walked into the room. Why would anyone knowingly do that to themselves? I’d be a fool to continue on in this vein. I knew that, but I still knew that I would be going on the dinner date with him the next evening.
I just couldn’t help myself.