Page 41 of Daydream
Heat from the pizza box on my lap is keeping me warm, and the sliding and scraping sound echoing from the truck bed makes me curious. Henry told me it was a surprise, so I’m not asking questions, and frankly, there’s something about watching him drive a truck that is giving me a lot to think about.
I can’t work out if I had the dream because I’m attracted to him, or if I’m attracted to him because of the dream. Of course I’ve always known he’s attractive—I have eyes—but there’s definitely a difference between knowing something and actually being attracted to that something. Either way, I feel guilty about feeling hot and flustered over someone who’s done nothing but be a good friend to me.
When we finally stop ascending, Henry reverses into a parking spot and climbs out quickly to walk around to my side. He takes the pizza box with one hand and my hand with his other and helps me slide out. “What are we doing here?”
The view looks out across the whole city, thousands of tiny lights shimmering across the skyline. “Dating. I told you.” He hands me the pizza as he gets to work at the back. When I look over the truck side, there’s an air mattress and blankets as well as a speaker and a cooler box. “Food and fresh air, and we can play your audiobook while you lie down. If you feel like it after, you can write. Can I have your phone to get the audio up? Can you grab the drinks from the front so I can put them in the cooler?”
I swipe up on my screen to unlock and hand it over. “Henry, this is amazing. Seriously.”
Tucking the drink bottles under my arm, I close the passenger-side door with my hip. As I approach the back of the truck, that’s when I hear it, and all the bottles slip out of my grip.
The sound of moaning and skin slapping against skin is unmistakable.
“Oh my God!” It comes out as a screech at the same time the stranger in my phone moans the same three words in a much more erotic way.
The slapping slows, and the stranger talks again as I scramble onto the bed in the most unflattering way possible and crawl across the air mattress to snatch my phone from Henry’s hand. “Put it back in, put it back in,” she begs as I press pause.
Henry says nothing as I look up from my phone. “Wrong app,” I say breathlessly.
My entire body feels hot. Not in a sexy way, in a “I might pass away from embarrassment” way. He’s wearing the biggest smile. “So that isn’t your book?”
“That isn’t my book,” I say, sitting down properly. Not even the dark could hide how flushed I am right now.
“What is it?” he says, a hint of curiosity in his voice. The look on his face tells me that he knows what it is. In his defense, I’m, like, 99 percent sure I left the app running in the background by accidentafter I used it this morning. That damn dream is the problem that keeps on probleming.
“It’s an, um. Oh God. It’s an audio erotica app called Whimper.”
“Why are you so red?”
That’s an excellent question. Why am I so red? I lie down flat on the bed and stare at the sky so I don’t have to look at him. “Just a little embarrassed.”
“Why? Because now I know you like to listen to people having sex to get off?” he says calmly.
“I’d rather you kill me than try to have this conversation with me.”
Henry laughs, and even the sound doesn’t soothe me. He lies on the spot next to me on his side, propped up by his hand. “I’ve seen you naked and now I know your sexual preferences. We’re getting super close.”
My jaw drops as I turn to look at him. “You broke a rule!”
“So did you by being embarrassed.”
“And it isn’t a sexual preference as such. I just like audios—of lots of things, not just people having sex. Jesus Christ, can we revisit the killing me idea?”
“I lived between Nate’s and JJ’s rooms for a year. I’m accustomed to knowing the intimate details of my friends’ sex lives. JJ wasn’t too bad because I never saw anyone again, but I have to look at Anastasia regularly. You like audio. I bet I’d like audio, too. There’s nothing you can tell me you’ve done that I haven’theardthem do. But we don’t have to talk about anything if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” I admit sheepishly. “I’m a virgin.”
Henry doesn’t say anything straight away, giving me the perfect amount of time to consider my escape route. People care about my lack of sex life more than I do, so I don’t dread their reactions because I think there’s something wrong. I dread their reactions because I end up having to convince them nothing’s wrong.
“Virginity is a social construct,” he says. “It’s good I didn’t let you leave with Mason. Would have been the worst forty-five seconds of your life. I’m a good friend.”
I can always rely on Henry to surprise me. “How did you manage to make my sexual inexperience about you?”
Henry’s mouth tugs up at the corners in that way that makes my insides go weird. “I can make everything about me if you give me enough time. Including your sex life.”
“I…” have no response. “Our pizza is probably cold, and I think we should put the book on now. Maybe let me do it, y’know, to prevent any other audio mistakes.”
“That’s a shame. I was looking forward to seeing if he finally put it back i—”