Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Only for her date, Stephen, to come barreling toward us and grab her hand. “Let’s boogie,” he says.
He seriously did not just say boogie.
This song is faster, so I don’t have to hold Nora the way I was holding Tabitha.
My cock has gone back to normal. Hearing the word boogie will do that to a guy.
I hate to say it, but Stephen is a great dancer, and so is Tabitha. They look amazing together.
Which just pisses me off.
Nora reaches forward and cups my cheek. “Smile, Henry. This is a wedding!”
Right. I force a smile. Nora has been chasing me for over a year. I took her out once after Darlene and I split. Found her sweet but kind of boring. Never asked her out again.
Clearly she hasn’t gotten the message.
I dance with Nora through this song and one other, and then I feign fatigue. “I need some water. But thanks for the dances.”
“Thank you too.” She takes my hand and follows me off the dance floor. “Let’s go inside to the kitchen. We can get some Gatorade or something.”
Does she think she’ll be alone with me in the kitchen? There will be no fewer than ten people in there cleaning up.
As soon as we hit the kitchen, Nora realizes the error she made. She drags me out of the kitchen and into the foyer.
Now we’re alone.
And I don’t want to be alone with her.
“So Henry,” she says. “Why haven’t you asked me out again?”
Her eyes are a little glassy, and she’s slurring her words slightly. Like many of the people at the wedding, she’s had a bit too much to drink, which has lowered her inhibitions.
And Nora’s inhibitions were never that high to begin with.
I lean against the door frame, arms crossed over my chest. “Nora—”
“Don’t give me some line,” she interrupts, waving a hand. “I can take it. I’m a big girl.”
She can’t, though. I can see it in the way she’s blinking fast, like she’s bracing herself for a blow. And yeah, I feel like an asshole.
“I just didn’t feel a spark,” I say, trying to be gentle.
Nora laughs, but it’s hollow. “Is that what people say now? No spark? You were inside me, Henry.”
I flinch. “Yeah. And I shouldn’t have been.”
“Wow.” Her voice is quiet now, sharp with wounded pride. “That’s a hell of a thing to say.”
“I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“But you are.” Her lips quiver. “Because the truth always does, doesn’t it?”
I don’t answer. I’ve got a pit in my stomach the size of a canyon. She deserves more than a brush-off in a foyer, but I don’t have anything else to give. Not to her.
She looks me over, like she’s searching for something she’s not going to find. “Is it Tabitha?” she asks.
I don’t answer. That’s answer enough.
“Of course it is.” She steps back, folding her arms. “You never looked at me the way you look at her. You never even tried.”
I hate this. I hate the guilt. But more than anything, I hate that she’s right.
“I’m sorry, Nora.”
She gives a brittle smile. “No, you’re not. You’re relieved. At least now I know.” She turns to go but pauses. “If there was no spark, then why’d you take me to your bed?”
Fuck.
Because she offered and I did it. I’m a guy. It’s what guys do.
I’m thinking that’s not the answer she’s looking for.
“I didn’t know it then.”
“But you do now?”
I meet her eyes. “Yeah. I do.”
She nods once and walks away, heels clicking on the tile.
I lean back against the wall and let out a breath.
Then I walk back through the kitchen and glance out the double doors.
Tabitha’s still out there, moving like she owns the rhythm, laughing at something Stephen said. But I see her glance my way when she thinks no one’s looking.
It’s not over between us.
Not even close.
But it needs to be.
I need to be strong. Not for myself so much as for her.
I need to end it.
But before I do, I’ll have her one more time.
Thirty-Nine
Tabitha
Henry has disappeared.
Along with Nora.
Stephen and I are still dancing, but I’m about done. When the song is over, I nod to him. “Break?”
He wipes the sweat off his brow. “Yeah, for sure.”
We head back to our places at the table, and even knowing I’ll mess up my makeup, I swipe my unused napkin over my forehead. Sure enough, now it’s stained with my foundation.
Tacky, but what the hell? I’m sweating like a pig.
So is Stephen, but he takes a hanky out of his pocket to wipe his face. Much classier.
Stephen is a classy guy. An intelligent guy. It’s not his fault that I’m not much interested in talking about nothing but wellness.
Oh, and I’m kind of stuck on another guy.
Who is…
Somewhere with Nora.
I don’t know Nora, but something tells me that she’ll jump right into the sack with Henry if given the chance.