It was hard to eat when you couldn’t take your eyes off the person across from you. Even harder when all you could think about was ripping his clothes off.
Eliza’s attraction to Henry was stronger than anything she’d ever felt before. There was just something about him, a pull that she couldn’t describe, that made her want him. He wasn’t buff, wasn’t movie-star good-looking, and wasn’t even dressed in anything new or hip.
His too-long hair that curled around the edges kept falling into his face where his long, skilled-with-a-bow fingers would push it up until it fell again. The dark, thick-framed glasses he wore were not a fashion statement, more of a necessity, and his jeans, if she had to guess, were straight off the rack at the local Target.
Nothing about him screamed cool or fashionable. He was who he was, and that was a huge turn-on.
It helped that she was also what she considered ‘not cool,’ at least to herself. She was a small-town girl who never really grew out of it. When Nathan had started making it big, she tried to be something different. Someone cooler. But even in trendy clothes, with make-up and a new hairstyle, she’d felt like an imposter.
It helped that Nathan was a country star and not a pop star. She would have definitely turned down working for him if that had been the case. As a country star, he could wear jeans and t-shirts most everywhere and that meant she could be casual too.
It felt good to be with Henry and feel like she could be herself.
“Whenever I am out of town, I miss this soup so much,” she said as she finished her last spoonful. “I have tried so many chicken tortilla soups and not once have I found another one like it.”
He finished his own bowl, pushing it away from him. “Before I moved here, there was a deli a few blocks from my apartment in Philadelphia and I used to think theirs was the best. Then I moved here and had this.” He shook his head. “Not even comparable.”
“I’ve probably had the soup from that place. When we were on tour, it was my goal to find the best in whatever city we were in.”
“Do you think you’re going to miss being on tour?”
“Probably some, but it’s not as if I can’t join them here and there. Most of the shows are on Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays now and Nathan doesn’t travel on the buses from city to city anymore. He flies in for sound check on Friday and only travels with the tour until the end of the weekend. Then he flies out, heads home for four days. But that’s only been in the last two years. Before that, it was months on the road, living out of a tour bus.” She shuddered, remembering how much it sucked. “Those days, I will not miss.”
“Doesn’t sound as fun as it looks.”
“It’s not all glamour and fun, that’s for sure. In the first year on tour, I shared a bus with the other women who were in the band, and Nathan shared with a couple of other band members. It was horrible. My bus had men and women coming and going at all hours of the day and night and his was the same. After that year, we switched so that he and I shared a bus together. It was better since we knew each other so well. We still had our differences, but we could work them out.”
“You’re making me very glad that I went the route I did in music. When I was younger, I almost joined a Broadway show tour. I didn’t want to be in the same industry as my dad and touring with a show was a perfect way to see the country, or so I thought.”
“What made you change your mind?” She leaned her chin on her hand as she listened to him talk. She loved his voice. It was soft and almost musical to her ears.
“I didn’t really change my mind more than I just took the first job that I was offered and that was with a small-town symphony in Florida.” He scooted his chair back and crossed one leg over the other. “I made no money and could barely survive. Four of us lived in a house together and if it hadn’t been for my parents supporting me, I probably would have starved.”
“If there’s one thing I know, it’s that musicians of any kind don’t make enough money. Nathan pays his band well above the average but a lot of artists don’t. It’s a shame because they work as hard as the main artist, yet get none of the glory.” She stood to pick up their finished food containers.
“Let me,” he said, his palm touching hers.
Electricity coursed through her whole body at that one simple touch. “Why don’t we do it together?” She showed him where the garbage was as she added the real silverware they’d used to her dishwasher. She was wiping the counter when her computer rang with a FaceTime call from Nathan.
She’d told Nathan about Henry. He’d laughed and said that, of course, she would meet her soulmate in her first week. She’d balked, informing him that Henry was not her soulmate, but after having lunch with him, she wasn’t so sure anymore.
“You can get that if you need to,” Henry said. “I can leave.”
“No!” she shouted, stopping him before he could leave. “Want to meet Nate Mackey?” Pulling her computer close, she hit the accept button.
“What the hell took you so long, El?” Nathan had taken to shortening her name after only a week of knowing her when they’d been sixteen. At the time, she’d loved it because she’d hated her name. Through the years, she’d learned to embrace the name Eliza and now he was the only person who called her El.
“I’m having lunch...with Henry.” She turned the computer just a little to fit Henry on the screen.
She saw Nathan go from ‘her friend Nathan’ to ‘Nate Mackey’ in the blink of an eye.
“Hey, man,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too,” Henry said, a little of his awkwardness showing.
“El tells me you play the violin. That’s hard work.”
Before Henry could answer, she moved her face close to the screen. “Nathan, can you cut the ‘Nate Mackey, Superstar’ bullshit and just be my friend Nathan?”
He frowned. “I thought you wanted to impress him with me.”
She snorted out a laugh, completely comfortable doing so with Henry beside her. “If I wanted to impress him, I would not have answered your call. I would have just shown him my boobs.”
“Woah,” Nathan said, “you are dropping all pretense here. Henry, my man, you should be impressed if El is willing to show you her boobs. While I’ve never personally seen them—and thank God for that or I’d have to stab myself with scissors in each eye—I’ve heard, from her, mind you, that they are her best feature.”
Eliza watched several emotions play over Henry’s face. Shock, humor, heat, and enjoyment. There was laughter in his voice when he said, “I can’t fully vouch for them being her best feature, but they did feel pretty amazing pressed up against my chest when we kissed.”
She was shocked he mentioned the kiss, but once the shock wore off, she realized that she liked that he was open to humor and amusement in relationships.
“El, there was kissing?” Nathan asked, looking directly at her through the camera. “And Henry,” he shifted his eyes to Henry, “nice job. El is picky as fuck when it comes to kissing. Although, there is a rumor out there that she kissed a girl once, and from what everyone says, it was hot.”
Henry turned his head to look at her. “I bet it was.”
“Nathan fucking Mackey, I can’t believe you said that!” It had been a dare in the early years of gigs in shit clubs and she’d been extremely drunk.
“Now, now, you did say to drop the pretense. You kissed a girl, so what?” Nathan looked nonchalant at spilling her secret.
“You know damn well what. I was young and drunk. How would you like it if I told people everything you did when you were young and drunk?”
Nathan shrugged. “Most of it’s already out there.”
“Have I mentioned how much I hate you?”
“Not today, but there’s still time.”
Eliza looked at Henry again. He was smiling, almost on the verge of laughter. “What’s so funny?”
“You two are. You’re like bickering siblings, which I find fascinating since I was an only child.”
“I will gladly give her to you,” Nathan said.
“Oh, I’d like to see you survive without me.”
“I made my own lunch and everything today, I’ll have you know.”
“By made, do you mean you warmed up one of the premade meals I stocked in your refrigerator and freezer?”
“If you’re gonna berate me the whole time, I’m hanging up.”
“Fine by me.”
“Henry, it was nice to meet you. Maybe, if El doesn't drive you crazy, we can meet in person someday.”
“I’d like that.”
Shaking her head, Eliza clicked end on FaceTime. “I’d apologize for him but…” she shrugged.
“I like him.”
“You talked to him for five minutes where most of that time he was a jackass.” She shut her computer, pushing it back so she could jump up and sit on the space.
His eyes widened at her move and he stepped forward, her legs easily parting for him to stand almost between them. It felt so intimate but also felt so right.
“I liked that you were easy with each other. That you have someone in your life who makes you laugh and also someone who obviously values your opinion.” His left hand reached out, touching her knee lightly.
“You got all that in five minutes?” She wanted to beg him to move closer, to touch her in places other than her knee.
He nodded and his hand moved a little on her leg as he took a step toward her. “What is it about you?” he asked, and for a second, she wondered if he’d meant to say that out loud. “I can’t seem to stop myself from wanting you.”
She reached out, touching his chest. “It’s the same for me.”
Every second, he inched closer. She knew he was going to kiss her, could feel the tension building. She wanted it and a whole lot more. But just when she was about to close her eyes and let him take her any way he wanted, he stepped back.
“I should go.” He blinked several times. “Tonight? Seven?”
She nodded because if she tried to speak actual words, she’d beg him to stay and fuck her on this counter. Instead, she watched as he walked away. When he was at her door, though, she couldn’t stop herself any longer. “Tonight, plan on being impressed.”
He turned to face her, his eyes burning with heat. Her words had been a direct hit. She wanted him to know that tonight she planned to do something about their attraction. Opening the door, he let out a groan before walking through and slamming it behind him.
She slid down off the counter all the way to the floor once he was gone. Nothing about this was normal for her. If she had an interest in a guy, she was a clumsy, bumbling fool. Nathan thought it was hysterical and never understood how she could negotiate million dollar record contracts but couldn’t flirt with a guy to save her life.
It felt different with Henry. Maybe because he was like her more than any guy had ever been. They were like two nerdy teenagers who found each other.
Needing advice from the only person who knew her well enough, she stood, pulled her laptop across the counter and hit call.
“I’m assuming Henry is gone now?” Nathan asked when his face popped up.
“He’s gone, but you’ve gotta help me. We are going out on a date tonight.”
“My boy doesn’t move slowly, does he?”
“Your boy. Since when is Henry your boy? You just met.”
“Since he couldn’t take his eyes off you the whole time we talked and he obviously doesn’t give two shits about us being friends. When was the last time that happened?”
Never. She’d never dated a guy who could get past her being friends with Nathan. Henry had known since they’d first spoken and not once did he question their friendship. He even seemed to enjoy it. “He likes you,” she said, ignoring his question.
“I’m a likable guy.”
“You’re a pain in my ass. Can you for one second be serious and help me figure out what to do?”
“What to do about what? You go out, have some dinner, some conversation and then bring him back to your place and sex him up.”
“Sex him up. Is that the technical term?”
“I probably could have said fuck him but, and I’m guessing here, you would have yelled at me.”
“Funny thing, I don’t think I would have. What I want to do with him feels more like fucking and less like the mediocre sex I’ve had in the past.”
He was silent for a beat. “I’d say I’m surprised at how much you like this guy, but I’ve always known you would fall hard for someone. Eventually. Why do you think I always wanted you on tour with me? There was never a chance you’d find a guy like Henry. I knew once you did, you’d leave me.”
She softened. “I’m not leaving you, Nathan. I just needed a life of my own.”
“I know that, even if it took me months to stop being mad about you moving to Chicago. I want you to be happy, El. Marry a good guy, live in the suburbs, and have adorable kids who worship their Uncle Nathan.”
“So what you’re saying is that I should shut up and fuck the hot, nerdy musician who makes me so hot that I can’t sleep at night?”
“Bingo.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Nathan, this feels different. Bigger somehow.”
“I’m not an expert, obviously, but isn’t it supposed to feel different when it’s right? There should be butterflies in your stomach and sweaty palms. You should want to fuck them on the first date even if you choose not to.”
“Second date.”
“Huh?”
“Lunch was our first date and tonight is our second.”
He laughed. “You should want to see him badly enough that you have two dates in one day. El, don’t let this get inside your head. Don’t overthink it. Have fun, enjoy your time with him, and if it’s meant to be, you’ll know.”
“Who are you?” She was rolling her eyes and shaking her head.
“I’m just a guy who someday wants to be in the position you are in. Going out with someone who makes my heart race and my blood pump. And not just because of sex, but because of all the little things.”
“She’s out there, Nathan, I promise you.” As a teenager, he’d always been a romantic, but that had gone away once he’d tasted stardom. She was never sure why, but maybe it wasn’t all the way gone. “Now before I go and stress over what to wear for three hours, let’s talk business. I think you’re gonna like what I have to say.”
She carried her computer back into her office and got down to business.
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This was never going to work. She was clueless when it came to dressing herself. More than once, she thought of calling the whole thing off only to remember that she didn’t have his phone number. In order to cancel she’d have to leave a note on his door and unlike the other notes, this one would not be cute and flirty.
She just couldn’t do that to him.
Saying fuck it, she settled on a nice pair of jeans, a sweater she’d had for years and knew looked good on her, and a pair of ankle boots. Her hair was simple since it was bone straight but she did add a little make-up to her face. It was fall in Chicago, but from what she’d seen on her weather app, it was an unusually warm day. She’d take a light jacket just in case it cooled off.
After all, she had no idea what they were doing.
She was just slipping her phone into her purse when there was a knock on the door.
Here went nothing.
With a hand shaky from nervousness, she opened the door to find Henry. He was dressed similarly to her in jeans and a sweater. His glasses were askew on his face, like always, but his hair somehow seemed less unruly.
“You look gorgeous,” he said after a brief pause.
“And I see that you wore shoes tonight.”
“I figured it was the smart thing to do.” He thrust his arm, which had been behind his back, forward and she saw a small bouquet of flowers. “These are for you.”
She wanted to cry. No one in her twenty-nine years of life had ever given her flowers, other than Nathan. Leave it to Henry.
He must have noticed her hesitation in taking them and her facial expression. “Is everything okay?” He took a step closer to her.
She shook her head and laughed. “Nothing is okay and it’s all your fault.” She took the flowers and walked to her kitchen to put them in water. She heard the soft click of her door being shut and assumed Henry had followed her inside.
“If I did something wrong, I...well, I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’ll do something.”
She turned after she found a vase and filled it with water. He looked helpless standing in the middle of her living room and he must have run his fingers through his hair because now it was sticking up in several directions. Just how she liked it.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. It just hit me when you gave me the flowers that I’ve never received flowers from a guy before. Unless you count Nathan, which I do not. He sends them all the time, almost too much, out of guilt when he’s done something he knows I have to clean up.”
“Oh,” Henry said, still looking unsure. “If I had known, I would have tried harder. Gone bigger.”
His unexpected pockets of humor when things were serious made her hunger for more. “Next time.”
He nodded. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted to eat so I made reservations at two places. You can pick.”
That was it. The final straw for her.
“What if, instead of going out for dinner, we stayed here?” She moved around the counter until she was leaning against it, facing him.
“You don’t want to go out?” His confusion was adorable. And sexy.
“What I want,” she looked down, mustering up all her courage and womanly wiles, before looking back up and into his eyes, “is to be here, alone with you.” At his confused look, she realized she had to go one step further. “Naked.”
His eyes widened, finally understanding what she was saying. He cleared his throat. “I want that too, but I need you to know that I’m not looking for a one-night stand or a quick fuck.” He took a step forward and she couldn’t stop thinking about his mouth saying the word fuck. “I want more.”
He was so close now she could almost reach out and touch him. But she didn’t. She wasn’t sure how she was even standing upright at his confession. If not for the counter behind her, she’d be a puddle of goo on the floor.
“Eliza,” he said, and she shivered from the way he said her name. She might have hated her name in high school, but she’d never hate it again after hearing it from his lips with such passion. “Am I moving too fast? Is this too much?”
“Not fast enough,” she somehow got out before lunging for him. He grabbed her, and she was in his arms, her body pressed up against his, and there was nowhere else she wanted to be. “Henry,” she whispered out his name, hoping he could understand what she was asking without having to say more.
His surprisingly strong arms held her, as his eyes searched her face. “Is this a dream?”
She smiled, lifting her hand to pull his glasses from his face. “If it was a dream, I’d already be naked and you’d be on your knees with your mouth on my—” Her last word was cut off by his mouth claiming her lips.
Strong and forceful, he kissed her and she had no problem kissing him back. His lips were like heaven against hers and if she could, she’d kiss him all day. Her hands dropped his glasses and they clattered when they hit the floor just as she latched onto his hair to pull him closer. She wanted his body fused to hers as tightly as possible.
She felt his hands as they were running up and down her back. They went lower and gripped her ass, hauling her even closer, if that was possible. She felt every inch of him, especially the ones below his belt. And it felt like a lot of inches.
Moaning into his mouth, she bit down lightly on his bottom lip.
“Fuck!” He tore his mouth from hers. “Where’s your bedroom?”
She pointed behind him with one arm but didn’t let go of him otherwise. Wanting more of him, she kissed his face and down his neck. His skin was delicious. His body was moving and she struggled to keep up.
When he stopped moving, she looked up to see that they were in her bedroom. In the living room, it was still stoppable, but here in her bedroom, it was real.
“Are we still good?” he asked.
His hair was falling down onto his face, and she used the back of her hand to push it out of the way. “More than good.” Stepping out of his arms, she pulled her sweater up and over her head. Her heart was drumming fast in her chest as she stood in front of him in only her bra.
A bra that was sheer.
He started to step toward her, but she stopped him with a hand in the air. Slowly, so slowly that it almost killed her, she unsnapped her jeans and slid them down her legs. Only she’d forgotten about her boots.
There she was, in her bra with her pants halfway down her legs, still in her boots. Boots that could not be slipped off easily. They had zippers.
This was humiliating.
Until…
“Let me.” Henry kneeled at her feet, unzipping one boot at a time, then lifting the foot and removing the boot.
In her dreams, he’d been on his knees in front of her doing wicked things to her body and she thought that would be the sexiest thing ever. But him on his knees being sweet and caring might be sexier.
When the boots were off, he stayed where he was, his hands running up her jean-clad legs. At her knees, where she stopped lowering her jeans, he halted, his fingers brushing against her bare legs. She stopped breathing as his thumbs rubbed the backside of her knee.
Who knew knees were erogenous zones?
Standing was becoming hard. She had no idea how she was still on her feet. And when his hands started pushing her jeans lower, she had to reach out and grip his shoulders to steady herself.
“Lift up,” he said putting pressure on her right leg to lift off the floor. She did as he asked and when the material was gone from her leg, she started to lower it. Then she felt his lips against the skin on her calf and her knees buckled.
“I’ve got you,” he said, his words muffled against her skin.
She was dying. Everything he was doing felt amazing and she wanted more. A lot more. “Henry,” she groaned out as he did the same to the other leg.
After the jeans were gone, she was left standing only in her bra and panties that matched. Sheer panties that showed everything underneath.
Which wasn’t anything.
One of the few girly things she did along with getting her nails done, was waxing. She liked being bare, liked how it felt against the fabric of her underwear.
And from the look on Henry’s face, he liked it too.