Page 104 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
“You never know, I might just have to.” He winked, making me wonder what that meant.
“Don’t you two just look adorable, matching clothes and all? Did you plan it on purpose?” my mom asked while my dad pulled his eyes off his plate for a second to look at us.
“No, just a coincidence,” Henry replied right before shoving a huge piece of French toast in his mouth, dripping all over his white shirt.
“Oh dear. Honey, you got some syrup on your shirt.”
“Oh shoot,” Henry replied, looking down. He grabbed his napkin and started smearing the syrup everywhere.
“That’s not going to help. I’m sure Dave has a shirt you can borrow. You’re about the same size, well besides the muscles. Have you been working out, Henry?”
“Um, just a little,” he said modestly. “Do you mind, Mr. Bloom?”
“Not at all. Rosie, go help him find a shirt. Just don’t give him my Bubba Gump shirt, that’s my favorite.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Dad.” I turned to Henry and said, “Come on, slob.”
“Don’t forget to soak his shirt,” my mom called out. “I would hate to see it get ruined.”
Grabbing Henry’s hand, I led him upstairs toward my parents’ bedroom, but Henry stopped me in the hallway and said, “I want to see your room.”
“You’ve seen it before.”
“But not in a while. I always love looking at your pictures.”
“No, you like making fun of me in braces and overalls.”
“You were adorable, come on.”
He pulled me toward my childhood room that was too embarrassing to have a guy in. Thank God I was comfortable enough with Henry.
The room was a mauve color with pale blue bedding, sheets, and curtains. The furniture was an oak color and if it wasn’t for the Furby, Nano Pet, posters of Jonathan Taylor Thomas, and other teenage knickknacks, you would have sworn an eighty-year-old grandma lived there.
On the bulletin board behind my desk was my wall of achievements, which was a pathetic assortment of made-up certificates. I didn’t have much talent when it came to sports, so my mom made up her own certificates and awarded them to me. I had a certificate of completion for a clean set of braces, for fitting into my first training bra, and successfully using my first tampon. Yup, big-time achievements.
“I love it in here,” Henry said while taking in everything, as if he had never seen it before.
“Why?”
“It just shows me what formed you, why you are the perfect person you are today.”
“I’m not perfect.”
“Pretty damn close.” He winked at me. “Ah, the certificate for inserting your first tampon. Such a great accomplishment. I really love how your mom used tampons as a border.”
“Could we not look at that?”
“And it’s laminated. She really exceled at making certificates.”
“Maybe she can make you one for being nosy.”
“What I love most about you is that instead of throwing away the certificates, you actually hung them up.” He chuckled to himself.
“Well, that would have been rude. My mom spent time making them, even though they were slightly inappropriate and highly embarrassing.”
“So adorable.” Walking up to me, he grabbed my hands and said, “Want to make out in your bed?”
“No,” I practically shouted as a wave of heat washed over me.
