Just a Girl - Becky Monson Page 0,20

few people knew.”

“Well, I guess you’ll have to wait until you see me again, then.” Whoa. That was bold for me. Where did that come from?

There’s something about this night, walking down this street with Henry, that has me feeling so much more comfortable than I ever have on a date.

“May I?” he asks.

“May you what?” I say, stopping in front of my door and turning toward him.

“See you again.”

A warm sensation moves from the bottom of my stomach and up to my chest.

“I’d like that.”

“I’m supposed to go to a dinner meeting tomorrow night. But I’m free Thursday?”

“Let me check my schedule. That works for me,” I say without even trying to look at my schedule. I wouldn’t care if I were scheduled to meet Harry Styles that night. I’d one hundred percent cancel.

He smiles, a full one. Lots of perfectly placed white teeth in full view. He takes a step toward me so we’re now just a foot apart.

I know I’m sweaty and my messy bun probably doesn’t look anything like the ones you see people on Instagram wearing. I’m sure I’m a hot mess. But with Henry in my space, none of it seems to matter. I’ve never experienced this before. I’m usually nervous and care too much about how I look, how my dress is clinging to parts I don’t want emphasized. But I can’t even bring myself to care about any of that right now.

Henry’s gaze drifts down to my lips, and I instinctively run my tongue along my bottom lip. I feel my heart rate speed up and my insides jump around back and forth like a pinball machine.

He reaches up and places a hand on my neck, gently guiding me toward him, and my eyes flutter closed. Time nearly stops, moving at a snail’s pace. It feels like an hour passes while I anticipate his lips on mine. And then suddenly they are there. Softly, his lips press against mine, and I’m lost. A pool of melted chocolate. Henry’s lips feel like breathing. Warm. Tender.

I place a hand on his shoulder, wanting to bring him even closer to me, to deepen the kiss. But before I can, Henry pulls away. He smiles at me; it smolders even in the already warm, humid air. He releases his hand from my neck and takes a step back.

I want more. I want to grab him and make him kiss me more. But it’s clear that Henry’s a gentleman, and that simple kiss is more like an appetizer for things to come.

“I’ll see you . . . uh . . .” I look around, my eyes darting. Sentence structure seems to be a bit of a challenge right now, and I can’t remember what day it is.

Words . . . need more words.

“Thursday?” Henry says, his mouth quirked up on one side, that dimple mocking me. He knows. He knows the effect he just had on me.

“Yeah, right. Thursday.”

He starts to back away, one foot behind the other, slowly. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

I open my small purse and fish around for my keys. “Right, I’ll . . . uh . . . also be looking forward to it.”

Well done, Quinn.

News flash: that was not well done.

I give him a wave and go to use the key fob to open the door to my apartment building. Before I open the door, I peer back over my shoulder and see him just standing there, watching me. I give him a smile, and then, pulling on the handle, I walk inside my building.

When I get to the elevator, this time I don’t hold back. I scream like a teenager at a Taylor Swift concert. And it feels great.

Chapter 6

Henry: Dinner tomorrow at 7? You pick the place.

“I’m in love,” I say as I walk on the treadmill, Holly on the one next to me.

One of the tips at the camp was to have an accountability person for exercise, so I made Holly join my gym, and so far she’s been a pretty good accountability partner.

Logan, not so much. He happens to be on the treadmill next to her, earphones on, thank goodness. This is not how I envisioned this. It was supposed to be me and Holly and we’d be able to talk and figure out all of life’s secrets—or at least all of our own life secrets—just like old times.

But now it’s new times. With Logan. It’s hard to get a moment alone with Holly these days.