Chapter 14

"Where are we going?" I asked as we drove further and further away from the city. We'd walked back to the party so that I could hand Ella her keys. She was a bit miffed because she'd wanted to ride with Peter, but when I told her I was leaving with Henry, she was all smiles. I also noticed that she wasn't harping on me as usual. She didn't ask me too many questions about Phillip and didn't ask me about leaving with Henry.

I think she truly did want me to figure this out for myself and in a way I appreciated that. Though I was really confused. How could I seek her advice when she'd warned me that I may have not been capable of having friends with benefits?

Well, the benefits factor was out the window now. He did say he wanted us to do the right thing. As friends.

"A ghost town," Henry answered and I don’t think he was joking. From the comfort of his Audi R8, I looked out the rolled down window. There were no more city lights, and the mansions we passed were far apart, until we came to a gated community. Henry pushed a button on his key and soon we drove through an extravagantly designed neighbored, so beautiful it was almost eerie.

After going up a long hill, we came to another house, secured by a black iron gate and drove up to a beautifully, lighted modern home. I peeked at Henry who was casually parking the car, not making a show of having a breathtaking home.

"Wow," I said. "This yours?"

Henry eyed me like I really dared to ask something so insipid and just to tease me said, "No." He then exited the car and jogged to my side to open the passenger's side.

"It is yours!" I grinned a sweet grin that made him roll his eyes and murmur under his breath. Color was rising to his cheeks and I laughed as he got embarrassed, avoiding eye contact and looking at his foot as he tapped the toes on the tarmac.

"Why are you so nervous?" I asked, enjoying his shyness a bit too much. Now it was his turn to wilt under my gaze.

"Are you coming, or…"

I laughed as I stood up with my purse in hand. I followed him up the walkway, admiring the reflecting ponds we saw, all  with small fountains.

The architecture of the house itself was something definitely from Architectural Digest. It was boxy and paneled heavily with wide windows. The walls were very clean colored, with varying shades of grey, often highlighted by hidden small lights of blue. The second level of the house was paneled in what looked to be mahogany. The inside of the house was lit in yellow soft lights, showcased by huge windows that made me wonder how the hell someone could have privacy. When I curiously looked over my shoulder, I saw that from this vantage of the hill, in addition to the high, lush fence, the house was pretty much secluded.

Henry stepped aside, having opened the wooden door and let me in to be awestruck even more. The geometric and heavy glass theme continued within the home. The living room designed with earthy tones, particularly the punctuation sod bright orange, that surprisingly meshed well with the somewhat clinical schema of the house.

It was a pad designed for a successful bachelor, but to me it didn't really seem too much like Henry, who seemed more the artsy type that preferred an easy flow. I'd always imagined his house would have a wall filled with graffiti or his favorite artists, with just a little bit of chaos.

This house was so untouched.

"This is nice Henry," I finally aid and when I turned to face him, I was surprised to find that he'd been watching me. He was a bit startled to have been caught, and shifted his weight from one leg to the other. I noticed then as I looked at him that maybe he did fit the design of this house.

Henry was the kind who'd make you think you had him all figured out. Then he'd surprise you. The house was beautiful to the eye, very inviting, but only at arms length. There was still lots of mystery, with the small bursts of orange occasionally bursting in the house a small hint, a teaser even, to what else was in store.

That was very much Henry. I saw that burst in his eyes and sometimes in his smile.

"Didn't have much to do with it. I hired a designer who helped." He finally moved more into the home and tossed his keys on the glass table.

"Your self- effacing attitude is a bit too much don't you think?" I followed him to the sleek bar surrounding the kitchen.

"Would you like something to drink?" He'd asked as he opened the grey fridge.

"Water."

"Water? Surprised." He handed me one anyway and got one for himself. "Are you hungry?"

"A little bit," I admitted.

"I'll make us a quick salad."

And I watched it all in glee. Henry belonged in the kitchen. It just seemed that way. He was very comfortable in it and put in that signature focused look of his that always managed to make me weak.

He served me a chicken salad and sat himself across of me to eat his own.

I had been so enraptured by watching him make a damn salad I'd forgotten about the beautiful house. I was looking around the house some more as I twisted my bottled water open when I gasped at the oceanic view beside the living room. There was a patio, then a pool, both overlooking the vast ocean.

"This is so pretty," I murmured.

"Have you never seen the ocean before?"

I turned to the sound of Henry's voice and found him smirking at me as he took a seat while going through his phone. The smirk made my clit jump  and I narrowed my eyes at him. Then I watched him for a few moments as his expression turned serious while he looked through his phone. I wondered if he was reading texts from some of his other female 'friends', or if there were business deals tucked in that phone. There was still so much about Henry I didn't know. Like how he operated. What made him tick. What did he normally like for breakfast? Why the hell was I concerned with what he liked for breakfast? And why would I ask myself such an obvious question.

"You know, you're mysterious at times," I finally said and Henry only lifted a brow, a small amused smile tugging one corner of his lips.

"Really."

"I thought I had you figured out but nope."

Henry simply smiled with ease and continued to focus on his phone. He looked so sexy hunched to the side his elbow rested on his knee of the hand holding his phone. His other hand rested on his other lap, a place I longed to sit on again like I did on Peter's patio.

How many women had gotten to sit on his lap? How many women got to link their hands with his? Henry was generous, there was no doubting that. He spread his gravy around not only cause he could but seemingly loved to. An irrational burst of jealousy tore through me as I thought of all the women that had had access to this special specimen.

"You're not the jealous type, are you?" I suddenly asked, recalling how at ease he was when Phillip and I were together.

Henry made an odd face as a lopsided smile marred the firm line his lips had set.

"What?"

This finally brought his gaze up to me. I flourished from head to toe now that I had his full attention.

"You don't get jealous."

He was smirking now. Damn the smirk. My toes curled as he set the phone on the pristine counter and folded his arms.

"Why do you say that?"

He knew why. I might as well just spell it out.

"You weren't bothered one bit by me being with Phillip."

Henry grinned. "I don't typically get too jealous, that's true."

I felt very petty for being let down.

"But I'm a human being. There are certain things that make me really jealous." He sat forward with his elbows on the counter, his presence suddenly very intimidating and pervasive.

I gulped hard at the sudden fire that lit his eyes.

"Like what things?" I finally asked.

"I am very giving, but when something is very rare, and very hard to deconstruct, I want to be the first one to do it. I want it to be mine. All mine. As you recall, I did say that I am an all or nothing kind of guy." He sat up and got off the stool. "You'll learn soon enough. Want me to show you around?"

Oh great. Go on and steal my breath and then casually ask me if I want to walk around when my knees are weak and all the butterflies in my gut are flapping overtime.

Wordlessly, I slipped off the stool and followed him. The rest of the house was harmonious to the designs I saw when I first walked in. I got used to the clinical aspects of it because of the bursts of warmth, although it still felt cold. A bit lonely, I don't know. It didn't feel humanized to me. It's like no one really lived there. But while all the huge windows made me uncomfortable at first, I took a great liking to them. Even the railing of the stairs were just glass pains that lined the steps.

I noticed that we didn't go into one particular room on the bottom floor.

"What's that door?" I asked curiously. 

"Nothing exciting," Henry said dismissively as he finished his water bottle.

"Now I want to see even more."

Henry looked at me, almost exasperatedly, but also thoughtfully.

"And hey, you know what I just realized?" I asked abruptly.

"What?"

"I've shown you my toys. My entire list of video games. All my history. When am I going to see your toys? Aren't friends supposed to share?"

He continued to stare at me pensively, as though waging an inner war, then he shook his head with a small smile. "You are good, Valerie."

"What?" I asked innocuously.

Not saying a word, Henry took my hand and led me to the door. When he opened it, my eyes widened. It was a home studio, a complete alternate universe to the pale, bright colors of the rest of the house.

It was cloaked in dark colors. Mainly black, and small highlights of beige. The couches were leather, and the walls were padded. I didn't know much about music technology, but it was all throughout the rom.

"Are you fuckin kidding me? This is out of this word!" I gushed as I stared at the glass room that housed a microphone. There was something so epic about this room. It didn't feel like real life. I knew I had my father's penchant for obsessing over different kinds of technology. Even though Dad didn't know much about music I knew he'd be impressed by everything in the room. Everything looked so high-end and sleek and somewhat untouchable. It was intimidating to an extent.

"You like it?" Henry pierced through my brain.

There was an expectance and hope in his voice. I turned to him. He almost looked like a kid wanting their parents' approval. He looked just a bit vulnerable. So boyish and young and the excitement in his eyes, in his every limb was brimming over.

"That's your 'I'm offended you even asked look'," he observed, lowering his chin.

"You're getting to know me well, my friend." I slowly turned back around and advanced further in the room as I admired it all. "This is amazing," I barely whispered.
"Thank you."

"No Henry, I'm serious," I told him somberly. He'd come to stand next to me.

"You kind of look like you want to hit me."

"That's how serious I am. I'm so serious I'm angry." I playfully and dramatically grabbed onto his shirtfront. "This is fucking awesome, okay?!"

Henry laughed and backed up, his hands over my wrists. "Okay! Okay!"

"Who helped you do this?" I asked in wonder, looking up to the high ceiling.

"Well my mentor has always been my high school choir teacher, but I pretty much had to figure out a lot of it on my own."

"Really?"

"My mom was supportive but she could only do so much. Come on, let's go back out there."

I didn't want to leave, but clearly he felt some kind of way for someone to be in there with him. I didn't want the subject to close. I'd just found this hidden box with him and managed to open it. I wanted to know what else was in that box.

"Care for some pool?" he asked when we were in the location next to the living room where a pool table stood with glass legs where some of the colorful billiard balls had fallen into.

"Sure," I acquiesced and he handed me my cue stick. We tried to play for a while but both realized we sucked at it and were now playing for fun.

My mind was still on our last conversation.

"Dad?" I blurted randomly.

"Huh?" Henry looked at me strangely. "I don't think you're my daughter Valerie. Have you lost your mind…"

I laughed at how unsure he looked. "No I meant your dad. Was he supportive? I notice you mostly only ever speak about your mother."

Henry seemed surprised by my pointed question and I hoped I hadn't been inappropriate. He almost became closed off, but seemed to fight through some restrains and finally spoke.

"Not really. My dad wanted me to do something practical. I don't blame him. I get my love of music from him. He tried to break into the industry and it didn't work and it was rough for him to go back to school and make something of himself." I noticed how closed off Henry's voice was when he talked about his father as opposed to the openness and devotion one could hear when he spoke highly of his mother.

"But I will say, he made me ambitious. Him leaving gave me no choice but to succeed."

I stared at him in silent amazement. When I didn't speak, he looked up from eying the table as he rounded it, and a hint of insecurity hit him. He didn't seem to comfortable when it came to his father and that was evident when regret began to claim his features, as though he rued ever bringing him up.

"What?" he asked and I frowned at the discomfort he obviously had with his father. It didn't make me think less of him, it made me think more. It added to his character, all these things that made him up.

"How am I not supposed to want everything from you when you tell me these things, Henry?"

Oh shit. What had I just said? I was about to try and detour the conversation when Henry, after blinking stunned for a while, spoke.

"And how am I not supposed to give you everything when you look at me like that."

What the hell were we saying right now. It's like our hearts had leaped out to center stage and spoken for those few moments. I know that sounds really lame and eye-roll worthy but it's truly how it felt. I felt too much pressure, it was getting so heavy we both ended up looking away at the same time, but I caught the look of regret on Henry's face which I'm sure mirrored my own before we both averted out faces.

"I admire you. I envy you," I finally told him as I lightly hit the billiard balls, sending them rolling around the green table.

"They're just things."

"That represent your hard work," I explained as I moved to a different spot to hit the balls. "The fact that you never let anyone tell you no. the fact that you never gave in. most people don’t' just do what they want to do. They play it safe. You didn't play it safe. I admire that."

"It's not too late, Valerie. You're only twenty-seven. Not seventy-seven."

"This isn't about me," I told him. "This is about you being admired. Don't make it about me. I'm just saying from my stand point and what I've seen, I respect risk takers like you a lot. You honor your craft and never abandon it."

He was blushing and rubbing his nape and it was the cutest thing I'd ever seen.

"Thank you. It means a lot. Never thought I'd have a software developer's respect," he said with a grin.

"So are you self taught?" I wanted to know more about that side of him that he seemed to hide so much and I still wasn't sure why.

"Well I had piano lessons as a child," Henry explained. He bent to take his shot. "My mom kept me in them because she knew how much I enjoyed it. And my choir teacher taught me how to sing, but as far as learning how to write songs and produce, I'd say I'm a bit of both, self taught and taught. I don’t think anyone who is taught isn't self-taught. Even when learning from someone else, you learn a lot of things about yourself and you learn what works for you and what doesn't."

"How did you juggle having so much fun and working towards this?" I asked curiously. I'd never been one to juggle work and fun too well. The fun I had was always few and far between. This year was sort of the first time I really tried to do more besides work, but that was to relieve some of the pressure I felt from work.

"I'd have fun to let off steam but music, music was just the only way I could survive. And I wanted it so bad. I was in a small time band both here and in London. I just always felt I had to be successful for my mother. She really struggled when my father left, and I tried to like other things. I tried to like math I tried to love science but I always found myself going back to music. Music was the only thing that made sense to me. So I made the decision earlier on that if I was going to succeed in anything, it had to be music. And because I chose music, I decided I had to go 1000% because I knew it wasn't an easy field to break into. Only about 2% of people who get into music really make it.

"And that is true because I didn't make it the way I wanted to." He was so engrossed that he was sitting on the edge of the table holding the cue stick between his parted legs. I'd briefly stopped playing to look at him as he spoke. "I always wanted to be in the front. I always wanted to be on the stage but record labels didn't think I had what it took. But I saw a window of opportunity when one of the A&R's, god bless him, saw something in me I hadn't--songwriting. He was intrigued by one of the two songs I sang at the audition and was impressed when I told him I wrote it. Next thing I know I was signing up with the publishing, songwriting team of the label and trained with them for years. It was daunting because I was so young and a lot of the old heads didn’t take me seriously.

"Some didn't think I deserved to be there. There were some who were supportive, but it's always easier to believe the negative. I nearly gave up but Nathan shook me into reality and reminded me that since I hadn't focused on anything else really all my life, music was kind of my only option at that point. It was all or nothing and I had to give my all, so I worked harder than anyone I knew. It's so crazy to me though because it all happened so fast. It was so hard at some point my mother was worried cause I was paying more attention to song writing than I was at school. But thankfully I graduated, moved to the U.S. with the U.S. branch of the label I was signed to, and it was around that time that I wrote my first successful song. I'm humbled and lucky that the third official song I wrote was a mega hit when I was still fairly young. I'd been around the industry long enough to know being at the forefront wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

"I have a friend, a struggling female musician who nearly overdosed on drugs. The pressure was too high. Her singles weren't charting, the pressure to look a certain way made her anorexic, her family was disappointed in her because they figured once she got the record deal, she'd be successful enough to get them out of their debt but it doesn't happen the way most people think. Lot's of it is luck and some people don't understand that. The pressure made her turn to drugs. I wouldn't wish that lifestyle on anybody.

"But on the other hand, when you're in the forefront, there's that watching someone just have a stadium full of people just together on the same page." His eyes lit up as he looked at his hands holding the cue stick with a wistful smile on his lips. "I've been backstage a couple of times, and nothing can top that feeling. I've seen my brother and his group of friends, I used to get so envious because that's the lifestyle I wanted, especially at that age. It just seems so amazing. But once I saw my first check was way more than theirs, I had no more complaints and realized it was my calling."

I smiled at his last comment--always trying to see the glass half full.

Henry looked up at me, his face turning red. This had to be the first time I saw him startled and extremely embarrassed. He smiled bashfully as he glanced down at his hands again.

"Sorry. That's why I don't like talking about it when people ask me about it.  I get so carried away when it comes to music. Talkin' too much."

I wanted to hug him and squeeze him. He was too fucking cute. He had me feeling all kinds of things I couldn't even begin to explain.

"I have never been so mesmerized in my life."

He sighed, visibly irritated. "Stop."

"You're…words can't…"

"Really, Valerie, you say I'm the corny one."

"I have to be corny for this. You're so out of this world words can't even explain you."

He looked surprised, a bit intimidated even, but I wouldn't back down. He may have heard this a lot but he had to hear it from me. He had to hear that I thought he was beyond amazing. I was in awe of him.

"I'm ordinary, I just decided to follow my dream," he murmured. "There are many other successful songwriters. We're just lucky that we get to sell our music in many platforms. Now if I was a neurosurgeon or an astronaut or hell, a software developer, then I'd think I was the shit. I'm just a songwriter and music producer, that's all. I'm not a rare commodity. "

He astounded me again. This unassuming trait he had. At first I thought it was a means of self-preservation. Underneath all the humbleness he had to have known he was great. He just had to.

"That's not a fucking 'that's all. You took the whole 'life is a gift' to the next level and you will forever have my respect just for doing exactly what you wanted to do, living your life the way you wanted, and not letting anyone tell you otherwise. Hell, and you were kickin' it with women half your age at the same time. True rock star."

Henry's eyes glimmered as he smiled at me, my genuine appraisals of him visibly warming him.

"I want you to be proud of what you've accomplished. I want you to be unafraid and unapologetic of being good. You are who you are. There is no reason to apologize for being successful so vastly so young. You earned it, didn't you? It wasn't handed to you."

If there's one thing my parents instilled in me, it was earning your professional success. Henry had more than earned his.

"This is why I need you in my life. You just make me happy. Extremely happy. Too happy." He almost looked troubled by the thought. That or my imagination was running wild.

"Well I cant wait to tell all my friends, those are just two, that I'm buddied with a world renown producer songwriter. They better bow down to me."

"When I tell my friend I know a software developer they look at me like I've joined the big leagues."

"You just ruined it. Sucked the life out of me."

"Why are you not proud of what you do?" Henry turned the tables and I shrugged.

"Cause I hate it. I made a dumb choice. I thought life was about pleasing everyone because I just needed someone to tell me that I finally did something, one thing, right, and I made the mistake of not following my dreams. I just need to get over gaining acceptance from certain people," I said candidly and he seemed a bit surprised by this. I know I had my immature moments. My moments when I was so lost int he maze of insecurity that i couldn't see how infantilizing it could make me. But I'd had lots of moments for self-reflection that made me realize that certain parts of me, mainly the parts that dealt with the paths I'd chosen in life, were my fault and I had to change it for me.

"Henry, even if you only had one penny to your name," I continued. "I would still be mesmerized by you. Failure was not an option because you didn't equate success to money, you equated it to just being true to yourself. It seems so easy but it takes a strong person to do that. I admire you for that."

I was being honest. I admired fearless people who did as they pleased as long as they weren't hurting others. I knew someone who had done the same and while it had hurt me that their path in life didn't involve me, I now understood why they did it. I remember Henry saying he felt a huge amount of guilt leaving his siblings to acquire his dreams. Sometimes sacrifices needed to be made.

If i was completely honest with myself, despite my parents' iron fists, there was a level of safety at home that kept me from taking that risk to do what I wanted on my own. I always had their tutelage by following their rules. Part of me not following my dreams was being too afraid of not having anyone or anything to fall back on.

"You're making this so hard," Henry murmured and by now I knew it was habit for him to say that.

I looked up from the billiard balls to find him eying me inscrutably.

"What?"

Our eyes held for several moments and I began to blush foolishly. Ugh.

"Can you let the awkwardness stop and tell me what you mean?" I asked a bit impatiently. There was something in his eyes that made me feel like he could peer into my soul. Henry looked at his hands as he twisted the cue stick.

"You're a strong person too, Valerie," he said instead, dodging my probing. "Not everyone has the same path. Just because someone didn't follow their dreams doesn't make them weak or any less of a person. Look at my dad. He did and he didn't succeed but he was strong enough to put his love of music aside so that he could raise his family. I think it's harder to not do what you want to do, and be at a point in your life where you have no choice. Waking up every day and just keeping it going and still trying to be happy and make something of your life, I admire those people.

"There's no right or wrong way of succeeding. Plus, I think sometimes we're all too caught up with success, and it's materialistic success. We don’t just slow down and enjoy the small successes in our lives. I know that sounds cliche and a bit forced, but I'm learning it the hard way. Sometimes I wonder why the hell I kept running for this success. Which is fine, I guess, but for me right now, I just want something simple. It's okay to just be fine and be happy the same way it's okay for someone to just want to win all the time, we're all different, have different paths, different endings."

i stood there blown away by his philosophy of life. It still seemed a bit scattered but I got what he was trying to say, and as usual he was trying to say something without really saying it if it involved his own small sufferings. I looked around at the big house and as I stared at Henry's profile as he thoughtfully eyed his hands, I realized that he may have been a bit overwhelmed by his success. Swallowed by it. He'd have had to come to this mansion all by himself, and then what did all these things mean if he was alone?

While my upbringing wasn't the best, at least I didn't have to do it completely alone. I kept thinking about how expertly Henry went through the streets on his own. How long had he been alone when chasing his dreams?

"You could still become a game coder, you know," he went on, swinging his gaze to me. "Or try. Or incorporate it into your skills somehow. I'm not just talking like a guy with his head in the clouds. I  know it's not an easy thing."

He leaned towards me and got a hold of my wrist, pulling me towards him till I stood between his legs.  He set the cue stick on the pool table and held my hips in his hands as he lazily tilted his head backwards to look at me.

"Stop doubting yourself so much," he said softly, looking up at me.

Shame. Of course I remembered when George said something along the same lines, but refused him to subjugate my line of thinking. Henry was kind enough to listen to me so I was determined to do the same. Smiling, I smoothed my hands over Henry's shoulders and his eyes went ablaze. Slipping my hands under his curls, I locked them behind his nape, feeling so at home with him holding me and me holding him.

Some 'friends' we were, huh?

"I think it's pretty awesome how we're so good for each other. Like we're literally each other's therapists for free."

This made him laugh so hard his laughter reverberated off of the walls. I loved to see him smile so much. His laugh was infectious. He laughed so hard his forehead dropped into my shoulder and I nuzzled the soft curls of his hair. I inhaled. Nice fresh smell of apples.

"We are actually, when you really think about it." His voice was muffled, right above my breast. So comforting.

"I will be honest with you." He rolled his head back to look up at me again."The basis of our friendship. I never thought it would be this amazing."

His hands trailed up the curve of my back, exhilarating me.

"what?" I pressed for elaboration. Henry hesitated, but I goaded him with my eyes.

"This feeling. Being around you. I never thought I would meet such a life-changing person when I met you."

I smiled. Feeling grand. I'd never been called 'life-changing'. I remembered my very first thoughts when I met Henry.

"I had a feeling," I admitted, raising my fingers to get lost in his soft curls. Henry closed his eyes as the balls of my fingers massaged his scalp.

"You did?" he murmured drowsily.

"Yeah. The moment you said you needed to break my walls down, I knew. It was weird."

He opened his eyes and smiled. As I looked down at him I admired the crescents his surprisingly long dark brown lashes formed, framing his brilliant emerald eyes. How had I snagged such a beautiful man.

I'd always thought in the movies or just in general when couples stared at each other lengthily that it must be weird. I could never do it too long with George. I was way more self-conscious then to do it but he would do it with me and sometimes he would just stare at me and tell me I was beautiful.

While I still had a few self-conscious bones in me, I couldn't look away from Henry. Even my own insecurities now weren't enough to keep me from staring in wonderment. We were so incredibly close that I could see the lighter green specks of his eyes to the hazel that surrounded his pupils.

His eyelids lowered as he lifted to meet my lips and I met him halfway, kissing him lightly. His arms wound around me and he drew me closer as the kiss deepened, my fingers speared higher over the globe of his head, tangled in the curls and I got lost in the kiss.

Everytime Henry kissed me, he kissed me like it was both the first time and the last time. Even when the kisses were light. This one had become passionate, almost maddening. There was an urgency in the kiss that alarmed me to the point I felt so…alive.

I kissed him back with the same urgency. It wasn't so much a need but I want. I just wanted to kiss him. I don't know why. Well I knew why. I just couldn't explain it.

Henry suddenly pulled back from me. He immediately put distance between us, his head bowed as he gently pushed me away from him, his hands still on my waist until I was a few feet away.

He got up, not holding my gaze, "I'll show you you're room. It's kind of late. Unless you really want me to drop you off."

He was putting away the dishes. He was suddenly cold towards me. I didn't get it at first. Why was it as though he was battling this inner conflict within him? Then I remembered, he said it was all happening too fast. I agreed, but I was already in the pit as I watched his back facing me, his back muscles bunching as he put away all the recipes in the kitchen.

I couldn't turn away now, the way it was so easy for him to turn from me. I just couldn't. I wanted Henry Walker more than my fucking next breath. He'd opened up a part of himself to me that had me even more drawn. I flipping ached to know more of his philosophies on life. I wanted to know every minute detail about the struggles he faced trying to make it. I wanted to know him. He was paradoxical. An open man that was still a huge case of secrets. I had never met someone like this.

The first time I met Henry I thought I had him figured out because he didn't carry himself with a chip on his shoulder. He didn't walk around with a brooding scowl that already let it be known he was a man of secrets. His arms were open for hugs and he had to be one of the friendliest people one could meet. But there were parts of himself he kept hidden.

I had questions but didn't know how to ask them. We said we wanted to take things slow yet we were kissing each other just about to rip each other's clothes off.

"Do you need help?" I asked gently as I apprehensively walked to the kitchen. I suddenly didn't feel so welcome.

"I got it," was his clipped response. So was this how he worked? He went from being the most gregarious character on the street to responding to me like I was a complete stranger in a hostile environment. This was backwards and I hope he knew it. Then I told myself to stop being so harsh. He'd gotten out of a bad relationship, being cheated on. We weren't exactly being the most well organized with how we were doing this friendship 'thing' of ours.

I knew all this but he'd sparked a hunger in me, an almost selfish one. My body was yearning for him like it had never yearned for anyone before. I was in trouble. It's a bit scary when you discover a new feeling pumping within your veins when you been in this world almost thirty years, especially after having such a mundane life for so long. It was scary and…dangerously exciting.

I think all those years of playing coy and

"Do you have anything more comfortable I can sleep in?" I asked next.

"I'll drop you off."

His response startled me. I grit my teeth. How could he annoy me in one second after making me hot just seconds before.

"I think I want to stay," I said stubbornly and this made Henry pause briefly.

"It's fine, I don't mind dropping you off."

"It's past twelve and I live two hours away."

"I'm a night owl."

"I'm not. I'm really tired."

"I'll  be driving. You can sleep on the ride."

"It will be too uncomfortable knowing you have to drive all that way back."

"I can check into a hotel close by."

"Why waste your money?"

"My money, being the key words…"

He wanted me to lose this battle but I forged on.

"Isn't there a guest room that you showed me earlier? I could sleep there"

Henry sighed sharply halfway through my words. "Okay, I'll show you to it when I'm done here."

He was at my counter, wiping it off now.

"Okay. Take your time. I'll make myself comfortable." I said cheeringly and Henry looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"So you're going to just watch…"

"I don't mind watching. You have nice arms." I swung my legs merrily and for the first time since our mini-argument, Henry managed a smile and shook his head as though even he couldn't believe I'd managed to make him smile.

"Thank you," he murmured.

"And nice shoulders. Your back is really nice too."

He simply shook his head but still wearing a smile.

"You're legs are also really long. Have you modeled before?"

"Valerie…I already said you can stay in the guest room. No need for all the flattery…"

"Oh I was about to say you can be a real jerk too but my asking if you've modeled before was a serious question."

"Once or twice."

I wiggled my hands mischievously before grinning like The Grinch and drumming the tip of my fingers together expectantly.

"Google is my new friend."

Henry laughed heartily at this, his eyes twinkling. "You are definitely one of a kind, Valerie."

"The kind you can't stay mad at?" I asked hopefully and while his eyes said yes, he said differently.

"Only the annoying kind."

"A badge I wear with pride." I took it all in stride and Henry seemed to appreciate this with a smile.

"I can't win with you can I? I have to fight really hard, don't I?" he asked as he completed cleaning the counter and I shrugged.

"Follow me," He said after storing the cleaning rug.

He showed me to the guestroom that was cream and pale blue, with a wide window that overlooked the ocean. It was a nice room but my earlier thoughts of how impersonal this house was had never left. I wondered if anyone had ever slept there.

"Okay," he started closing the door behind him. "Make yourself at home--"

"Wait!"

Henry pursed his lips and I caught the aggravation on his face before he tried to soften it while slowing down with forced patience and turning back at me.

"Yes Valerie?"

"I need a t-shirt."

"I'll be right back."

"Can I come wi--"

"It's a very short trip." He quickly closed the door behind him, this time not hiding his vexation with me. I heard a thump on the door and when I peered at the floor I saw the shadow of his feet. He was leaning against the door.

He was trying to stay away from me. For the better of…our friendship I suppose. But I was burning up. I wasn't thinking straight. Suddenly I couldn't imagine spending this night without him. I didn't care what we did. I didn't care if we talked or just sat around looking at each other all night or just lay together, I wanted to be near him.

Maybe it was this underlying fear that if he dropped me off, he'd disappear off the face of the earth again. And who knew for how long this time? I was just about to hop off the bed and go searching for him like a chicken without a head when he returned with a two folded garments in one hand.

As he handed it to me, I held onto his hand.

"Henry?""

"Hmm?"

The muscles of his wrist were strained the moment I touched him and his expression was slightly alarmed, like I never should have touched him in the first place.

"Stay with me please," I pleaded quietly.

He was clearly stunned, but the dread that soon followed was loud and clear as well.

"We can watch a movie," I began in a rushed, almost panicked voice. "Or just talk some more about you and--"

"I have nothing more to say." His voice was a bit hard and it took me aback so much. He must have realized how cold he sounded and he sighed heavily.

"I can't," his voice was pained.

"Why…" The hurt in my voice was evident.

His jaw twitched as he tried to swallow his words, then he admitted stonily. "Because I'll want to take you. All of you. I would want it all. Today. Now."

My entire face flushed. I went warm all over. His voice was gravelly and sure. He knew what he wanted. I did too. I was so drunken from him I spoke without much thought. "…so take me…"

Henry closed his eyes and he shook his head as if wishing I'd never uttered those words, "Valerie…you don't want me to…"

"I know what I want. I want you."

He opened his eyes, they were brilliant and bright in surprise. How could he be surprised that I wanted him? I saw some of the uncertainty in his eyes and realized how I may have sounded a bit too needy and softened my plea a little.

"For now. Not like, in that way. You know what I mean…"

His expression became ambiguous and I couldn't help but become insecure once again. I let go of his hand and scooted further up the bed, away from him.

“I think you're the one who doesn't want me," I murmured, somewhat petulantly.

"I want you more than any…" his voice tapered off and he sighed. "You don't want to know how much I want you."

While the words should have made me high, they triggered something dark from my past.

'The only reason men like inexperienced, innocent girls is because they can be easily controlled. The same way I controlled you because you were so fucking desperate. so fucking desperate and weak. No one will ever truly want you.'

That memory made me speak caustically.

"I'm not dumb, okay? I know what this is. I don't want any promises and won't make them. I don't want commitment. I just want you, right now, in this moment. That's all. Nothing permanent. I swear."

For several moments Henry held my gaze, his expression neutral. When he finally spoke, it was in a very calm, resolved tone.

"Okay." Reaching behind his nape with one hand, he bowed his head and peeled his shirt in one swoop. Then he went to the door and closed it.

And he turned off the lights.