Daydream: A Novel (The Maple Hills Series Book 3)
Chapter 12

TODAY HAS BEEN ONE OF my busiest days in a long time.

I went to my classes, had lunch with Aurora, went to the library, put some new fliers up for Enchanted, delivered some groceries for Mrs. Astor next door, helped Gigi with her Shakespeare essay, started my own essay, and now I’m letting two imaginary people called Harriet and Wyn tear my heart up via an audiobook on 2X speed while making cookies. I’m exhausted and somehow still falling behind, but that’s an issue for another day.

And yet, despite all of those things to keep my mind very, very busy…

I can’t stop thinking about the fact I had a sex dream about the man sitting on my couch.

When we got home on Saturday after the club, Henry was clearly overstimulated mentally and physically. I put a blanket and pillows in the middle of my living room, and we lay down and watched my baking show in silence. Joy nestled between us, asleep, and at some point between the technical and showstopper of the first episode, I drifted off. When I woke up again, I was in my bed and Henry was asleep beside me.

Three times this week we’ve repeated that process, each time waking up closer together.

Except last night, when I slept alone, and the offending dream happened.

Now I’m keeping myself as busy as I can so I don’t have to look at him, because my imagination has seen things it can’t unsee, and I feel like I cannot make eye contact with him without blushing intensely.

This month’s book club read is playing loudly through my headphones, which means I don’t hear Henry approach or realize he’s behind me until his hand reaches past me to take one of the hot cookies from the baking sheet.

He gently pulls the headphones from my head. “You’re jumpy. Are you okay?”

I don’t realize how close he is until I turn around and we’re almost nose to nose. He takes a step back and uses one hand to cup under the cookie as he takes a bite.

He moans.

Of course he moans.

“Did these get better or is it just because I haven’t had one in a few days?” I shrug and look away as he sucks the melted chocolate chips from his fingers. “You’re being weird.”

“I’m not.” I so, so am.

Henry washes his hands at the sink and turns, leaning against the surface as he dries them on a towel. “Watching you zoom around is tiring. Sit down with me and Joy?”

“Oh, it’s you and Joy now, is it?”

He is smiling in a way that feels illegal to enjoy as much as I do. He walks back toward me, stopping the same distance away as earlier. A normal distance that would not even be an issue if he hadn’t done an endless number of filthy things to me in my subconscious last night. “Jealous?”

“You wish.” I, reluctantly and with so much resistance, let Henry take my hand and walk me to the living room couch. “We need to finish the research for your essay soon. This is the only time this week I’ll have time to help you.”

“Shhhhh,” he says, pulling me down onto the couch beside him. “Let’s nap instead.”

“Don’t shush me to get out of working. I have my own essay to do, too, so it’s happening whether you like it or not.”

“I’ve already finished it, Halle.”

I sit up immediately and look at him properly for the first time. “What?”

“I finished it earlier. It was on something I already knew a lot about. I went through a phase. I just stuck to the structure you showed me and it was easy. So you need to replace something else to boss me around over, Cap.”

“I’m not bos—”

“I like you bossing me around, Halle,” he says softly. “You’re allowed to be assertive. You don’t always have to do what other people want. Except for now, open your laptop and write your essay. I’ll supervise.”

I’m pretty sure my jaw is hanging open. Standing from the couch, I walk across the room to grab my laptop from the last place I used it. Henry is showing Joy a fish video on his phone when I sit back beside them. “Unbelievable,” I mutter as I tuck my feet under my butt and open the screen.

“No distractions, please,” he says. “I’m very busy.”

After twenty minutes of writing, I feel a hand on my ankle. When Henry lifts it onto his lap I have no choice but to drop to my elbow. When he grabs the other one and repeats I’m basically lying down on my side, making it impossible to work on my laptop. “Can I help you with something, Henry?”

“No.”

I roll onto my stomach from my side for comfort, placing my laptop in front of me to attempt to continue to work. He uses my complacency to stretch my leg out across his lap and push my jeans up to my knee. That’s when I feel something tickle against my foot. Looking back at him over my shoulder, I eye him suspiciously. “Are you drawing on me?”

“I was raised not to tell lies,” he says.

When I turn back to my laptop I feel the tickling again. It continues, progressing over my ankle and up my calf. I’m convinced it takes twice as long to finish my work because I might be strong, but I’m not strong enough to be able to block out Henry’s soft touch against my skin. This is the worst possible timing after my dream last night.

After what feels like forever, I finally shut my laptop and climb off the couch. There’s a chorus of disapproving mumbles as I disturb Joy from her sleeping spot and interrupt whatever Henry has been doing.

“It isn’t finished,” he says as I pull up the leg of my jeans to investigate further.

My head twists and I try to bend my foot at an angle it’s not supposed to go. “What is it?”

He looks at me like I’m ridiculous not to immediately be able to tell upside down. “Cats in a meadow.”

It’s actually very cute. If only it was somewhere I could keep, instead of decorating my skin. “I would have shaved my legs if I’d known you were about to pay extra attention to them.”

His eyebrows pinch together a little. “It isn’t surprising for me to replace hair in a place where hair grows, Halle. You haven’t shattered any illusions for me that women are smooth and hairless.”

The inner feminist in me is screaming at myself because he’s right. What he said to me is exactly what I’d say to my sisters, because I don’t want them to grow up scrutinizing and changing themselves, and yet I don’t say it to myself. “Sorry, you’re right. It’s not a big deal.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault; you’ve been brainwashed by the cosmetics industry and men with porn addictions.” A laugh chokes its way out of me. He’s right, again, but it’s the flat, matter-of-fact way he delivers it that shocks me, because he isn’t like anyone I’ve ever met. Then I remember he was raised by women and he isn’t doing it for some kind of brownie point or praise. He immediately moves on before I can even weigh in. “What do you want to do now?”

“I need to finish the book I’m reading for book club and I kind of want some fresh air. I’m also hungry. I’m also tired and want to lie down. I also need to write.”

Henry nods along until I’m done listing. “Okay. Go change into some sweatpants, please. We’re going on a date.”

I have so many questions. So, so many. Instead of asking them, I nod in agreement and disappear upstairs.

THE EXCITEMENT OF THE UNKNOWN is the thing keeping me quiet as we drive uphill in Russ’s truck.

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 accident after 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’t heard them 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—”

Rolling onto my side at a speed I didn’t know I was capable of, I press my palm to Henry’s mouth. “Stop talking. I’m adding this to our rule book under things we’re not allowed to talk about.”

His hand closes around my wrist, lifting my hand from his mouth. He kisses my palm gently and puts it on the air mattress between our chests. “Good luck getting it signed off by the board.”

“The board for our rule book?” He nods. “And who’s on the board?”

“Me and you. And I’m not putting it on the list.”

“You’re unbelievable, do you know that?”

“So I’ve heard.”