Page 82 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
“And how do you know things wouldn’t work out?” he asked with a teasing tone, but when I looked into his eyes, I saw something different. He looked serious.Why is he teasing me about this? I'll never have Henry. I'm never going to be enough for him. Why should he settle for me, when he's only ever looked at . . . well, everyone but me?
“Because we both know I’m not your type, Henry. Plus, I’m way too inexperienced for you. The furthest I’ve gotten in bed is face farting.”
Chuckling, Henry shook his head and said, “Sorry, I had to let out a little laugh.”
“That’s all right. I was waiting for you to finally lose that façade you were hiding behind.”
Shrugging, he said, “I’m only human, but back to us.” With a not so subtle eyeroll, I let him continue. “Think about it, love. My experience can help your inexperience. I can teach you everything you need to know.” Softly, he looked up at me and said, “We would be perfect together.”
My heart dropped as I thought about the possibility. God, at that moment, I wanted him, I wanted to see what it would be like to be his, to have his lips on mine, to experience another side of Henry . . . the only side I didn’t know.
Instead of throwing my arms around him, I brushed him off, not ready to throw away one of the best friendships I’d ever had.
“Get out of here, not going to happen.”
“Why?” he asked seriously, making me sweat. Was he for real right now?
“Seriously?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest. I’d bore him. And then he’d move on. And I’d be left . . . justleft. Why is he pushing for that?
Silence fell between us as Henry looked into my eyes, searching for something from me, and I had no clue what it was.
“Forget it. I’m not up for a movie. I might just go into my room and watch some TV and go to bed. You’re welcome to join me.”
I could feel him pull away and I didn’t want that, not after everything we’d been through over the last twenty-four hours, so I said, “Slumber party?”
His face brightened again as he nodded and took my empty plate to the kitchen. I turned off the TV in the living room and helped Henry pack up the rest of the Chinese food. We worked in tandem, not having to say a word but getting the job done efficiently. I giggled to myself as I thought about it. No wonder my mom wanted us together; we already acted like an old married couple.
The kitchen was clean, the lights were turned out, so we headed to Henry’s room, which was always immaculately clean, more clean than my room and a hell of a lot cleaner than Delaney’s since she believed living in a rat’s nest was a lot easier than just cleaning it.
We snuggled into Henry’s bed, both facing the TV but with Henry’s chest to my back, his arms wrapped tightly around me. We started snuggling in college, and it was something we did often so to have Henry wrapped around me was nothing new. But this tingly feeling developing in the pit of my stomach every time I was around him?Thatwas new.
“Where’s the remote?” he asked, looking around. “It was on the bed.” He reached over me and started digging around for it.
“Hey watch it,” I said as his hand connected with my bare breast.
In shock, we both sucked in a breath. Time stood still as we searched each other’s eyes, tried to figure out the electric energy passing between us. In that instant, and for the first time, I saw heat in his eyes as he took in my rising chest. My nipples were hard from the small contact, from the heated look he was giving me, and from the proximity of our bodies. It was all too much.
My mind was screaming at him to kiss me, to touch me again. I never thought I’d have such feelings for him, such outrageous cravings for the man, but right now, with him staring at me, his body so close to mine—building a wave of heat through my veins—I wanted his touch.Neededhis touch.
Painstakingly, his hand slowly moved to the front of my shirt. I could feel my breathing pick up from his closeness. His head lowered just enough so his nose grazed mine, lightly touching me. My heart seized as his hand carefully caressed my breast over my shirt. He lowered the extra inch, and his lips barely danced against mine. It was subtle, but it was fucking electrifying, as if damn sparklers were shooting off between us.
All nerves I’d experienced before with the other guys were gone, and what was left was an overwhelming feeling of euphoria. But this was Henry, my Henry, my best friend, the one guy I could count on. Was I really letting him kiss me? Was I really having these all-consuming feelings for him?
Not once did he press me nor push too hard; he kept his kiss light, his hand soft, and his body relaxed, which caused me to feel every inch of him—every ounce of sweetness he was pouring through me, every last bit of yearning he possessed for me.
I was so gone.
In that moment, he took my heart.
And sadly, the moment didn’t last long.
The minute he pulled away, I felt empty and for some weird reason, I wanted more. And that was what scared me the most. I didn’t want him to stop kissing me, or touching me. I wanted him to strip me and take what I was offering to every other man in my life.
And then it was crystal clear what I truly wanted.
I wanted Henry to be the one to take my virginity.
His eyes glazed over as he looked down at me and said, “Sorry, love.”
