Page 62 of Spiral
Todd shifts his truck into a park outside of Eleanor and I’s apartment, yanking me back into reality.
“So, are you gonna invite me up?” he rasps, his eyes drooping and a confident smirk across his lips.
I open my mouth to respond, my expression incredulous, when his phone rings. The small screen in the center of his dashboard immediately illuminates the interior of the truck. Bold black letters reading NATALIA BRYER flash across the screen, so bright it’s nearly blinding.
Oh my god.
My mind instantly flashes back to the qualifying game, when Natalia – decked out in her maroon and white cheerleading gear – stayed behind on the field after the big touchdown, a playful smile on her lips. The elusive nod she had aimed at Todd had confused me in the moment, but now makes perfect sense.
Henry was telling the truth.
“I-I’ve got to go,” I stammer, flinging open the car door and stumbling out onto the pavement.
“Wait, Georgia! What the hell–” Todd’s protests are cut off abruptly as I slam the passenger door shut.
I fight with my key in the door, praying to God that Eleanor is home to drive me to Henry’s.
I’m so freaking stupid trying to make him jealous. I should’ve listened to him. He never lied, he never cheated. God, he stormed out of the bar. What if he doesn’t want me anymore? Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
My heart pounds as I hurl the door open, the metal handle clashing against the wall and startling me.
“Eleanor!” I call as I step into the foyer, my mind racing and blood rushing to my ears. “El, are you home?”
“She went out.”
I practically break my neck twisting to face him, my keys dropping to the floor at the sound of his voice.
Henry.
The room is dimly lit as he leans against the doorframe to the kitchen, a few feet away. He’s still dressed in his button up and jeans from Stetson’s, his hair still perfectly tousled, but something is different. His eyes are reddened and swollen, as if he’s been crying.
“Why’d you go out with Watson? Let him kiss you?” he rasps, his jaw clenched as he pulls himself away from the door frame and steps towards me.
I had forgotten how tall he is, but am instantly reminded as his towering figure inches closer to my own.
“I-I told you,” I stammer, my breaking voice barely above a whisper. “I thought you were with Natalia–”
“You kissed him after I told you I wasn’t.”
I say nothing, my heartbeat pounding in my ears as I stare at his flushed cheeks. The crisp scent of his cologne intoxicates me as he moves closer, our chests now nearly touching.
“But I know what you did on that bull was for me.” A lazy, confident smirk forms across his lips as his darkened eyes meet mine. “You want me, Georgia.”
I scoff instinctively, immediately bringing my thumbnail to my lips as my nervousness heightens.
“Laugh all you want, Campbell – I know the truth. And so do you. You’ve wanted me since the first day we met.”
“Henry, I–”
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
I can tell he hasn’t had a single drink tonight. Henry’s gaze is pointed and sober as he waits for me to answer him. His muscular chest heaves up and down with each slow, labored breath, the heat from his body radiating over me in waves as his proximity pins me against the living room wall. He places his palms against the painted plaster and allows his knee to teasingly graze the inside of my thighs.
I let out a soft whimper, my core suddenly pulsating with need at the slightest touch from him.
“You’re not wrong–”
His lips are immediately on mine, slowly and intimately. The gentle contact of our lips, as if he’s savoring every millisecond of the kiss, starkly contrasts with our previous “interviews.” He kisses me deeply, passionately, hungrily – all while his lips barely caress my own.