“I’m glad you found her freshman year,” he returns.
“Me too.” I bump his shoulder with mine. “Even if she did get me addicted to pumpkin spice.”
He snorts. “Are you going to let me meet them one of these days?”
“You already know my friends,” I remind him.
“I mean on a more personal level,” he clarifies. “And it doesn’t have to be today or tomorrow or even a month from now, but I want to be sure we’re on the same page.”
“We are,” I reply. “I’m in this.” I swing our interconnected hands to prove my point. “But…making this public and admitting it to others versus keeping it to ourselves is a little…daunting.”
He hesitates, his expression bunching as he brings us to a halt on the sidewalk. “They’re going to find out about us, Mia. I know you don’t like acknowledging it, but I’m a Buchanan. For some reason I can’t fathom, articles are posted with my name and face all the time. It’s not something you can run from. It’s not something I can protect you from. I asked Gordy to hold them off for as long as he can, but it’s only a matter of time before a picture of us together is posted somewh––”
“I’m not ashamed to be seen with you,” I interrupt.
“Then what is it?” he prods. “Why don’t you want to make this public?”
My thumbnail digs into my middle finger's cuticle as I consider his question. If I make it official to the outside world, it becomes real. It becomes tangible. It becomes something able to be lost. To be ruined. And I don’t want to ruin this. I don’t want to lose this.
“Tell me.” He angles my head up. “Tell me what’s holding you back.”
“It makes me nervous,” I whisper, hating how stupid and vulnerable I sound without any ability to change it.
“Why?”
“Like it’ll jinx it. Jinx this.” I slide my hands along his chest and tangle my fingers in the short, silky hair along the nape of his neck. He’s warm. So warm I want to wrap myself up in him and never let him go.
“I’m not going anywhere, remember?” he murmurs.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“I do,” I reiterate. “It’s…well, what goes up must come down, right?” I step away from him, hoping he’ll let me drop this conversation if we continue our walk. Hoping he’ll pick a different topic. One that doesn’t make me feel like a deer caught in the headlights.
Catching up to me, he prods, “What do you mean when you say what goes up must come down?”
I bump his shoulder, thread my arm through his, and rest my head against him. “How did I know you wouldn’t let me dodge your question?”
He drops a kiss on my head and pushes, “Answer it, Brat.”
With a pathetic laugh, I explain, “I mean, I’m happy. Really happy, Henry. Happier than I’ve ever been, and it terrifies me.”
His steps falter. “Why?”
Sucking my bottom lip into my mouth, I sigh. “Because anytime I’ve even felt a semblance of happiness, something always comes around and knocks me on my ass, bringing me back to reality.”
“Reality?”
“Yeah.”
“Because you’re not allowed to be happy in your reality?”
“You know what I mean,” I hedge, hating how close this hits to home. Because he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand how dangerous it is for me to feel hope. To feel peace. To feel love without knowing if or when it’ll be ripped away, leaving me even more hopeless and lonely than before.
And fuck, it hurts. The idea of losing Henry. It doesn’t matter if we’ve barely admitted our feelings run a hell of a lot deeper than sex. I’ve been falling for him for months. The idea of screwing this up? Of losing him? It’s almost more than I can bear.
“You deserve to be happy, Mia. You deserve to have money. To have conveniences. To have a dog you love and a man who takes care of you.”
My eyes burn, and I shy away from him, shoving my hair away from my face as the wind whips around us. “Now you’re being all mushy.”
“Don’t tell my business partners.” He wraps his arms around my waist again, denying me any space when he knows what I need is the opposite. I need him. His hands. His smile. His suits. The leash tangles around us, but it only makes me feel lighter. Like maybe I can tie him to me. Like maybe I can keep him forever.
“You can tell Gordy to stop scouring the internet for photos of us,” I murmur. “When I’m all in, I’m all in, and…” I swallow, take a deep breath, and look up at Henry. “I’m all in.”
“That’s my girl.” He leans in for another kiss, brushing his lips across mine with a tenderness I’ve come to crave. It’s sweet and innocent and sends tingles racing down my spine. He pulls away and adds, “Come on. Let’s find you some pumpkin spice.”
My cheeks pinch with amusement as I reach for his hand. “Sounds like a solid plan to me.”
48
HENRY
After Mia’s shift, we took Nala out for another walk, then came back to my apartment to watch a show and unwind. Giving Mia free reign over the remote, I change into basketball shorts and a T-shirt and return to the living room.
When I round the corner, Mia whistles, shamelessly checking me out as her eyebrows bounce up and down.
“Day-um, Professor.”
“You like what you see?” I ask.
Biting her bottom lip while grinning from ear to ear, she nods. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m a slut for the suit, but this?” She waves her hand as if to showcase my outfit. “My libido’s quite the fan.”
“Oh, she is?”
“Mm-hmm.” She pats the couch cushion on her right side since Nala is snuggled up on her left. “Now, get over here, Professor. I wanna snuggle.”
I stride toward her and take the empty seat, propping my legs on the coffee table in front of us, recognizing the show set to play on the television.
“The Bachelor?” I ask.
“Is that a problem?”
Hooking my arm around her shoulders, I pull her into me and press play. “Did you know the producers asked if I wanted to be on it?”
Her jaw drops, and she pushes herself away from me. “Are you serious?”
I nod.
“No freaking way. You’re really serious?”
I nod again, and she laughs. “Okay, that’s the coolest thing ever.”
“Glad I can impress you.”
“Yeah, it’s gonna impress the shit out of my friends too. Just a heads up, I’ll most definitely be bragging about this when we hang out with them this weekend.”
The way she slips our plans into the conversation makes me smile. I reach out and squeeze her knee. “We’re going to hang out with them?”
“Technically, they’re coming here,” she announces. “Is that a problem?”
I shake my head. “No problem.”
“Good. Figured I’d rip the whole thing off like a Band-Aid, right?”