Page 21 of When We Were More (Aron Falls #1)

“Matilda, please. I didn’t mean to upset you. I was only trying to do something nice, to give me an excuse to come talk to you.” My head whips up to look at him, and I narrow my eyes as I stare into his, looking for some hint of deception.

“You paid my bill so you could come talk to me? It doesn’t appear you have a shortage of female companionship over there with your friends. It’s a Friday night, and you’re a youngish, single guy. There are lots of beautiful women hanging around. I’d probably hedge my bets with one of them.”

I reach for my scarf that’s hanging over the back of my chair, and as I’m pulling it off the back, Henry’s hand covers mine.

I still.

“I don’t want to be over there. I want to be here. With my new friend.”

There’s a smile on his face, but there’s also something in his eyes that I can’t quite place. I want to laugh at myself that I’m thirty years old and so inexperienced that I haven’t learned how to read a man’s expressions by now.

“Stay and have one more drink with me.”

“Why?”

He grins again. “Because perhaps I got used to your particular brand of sass over the last six weeks, and I miss it now that we finished the job.”

I laugh, sure that he can’t mean that. Truth be told, though, I’ve also missed the banter with him.

“One drink, Matilda. Please.”

There’s no smile on his face now, and I can read the look in his eyes this time. It’s a plea, which is strange. Why this man would want to sit with me when he has all those other options is something I don’t comprehend.

Surprisingly, I hear myself answer, “Only one.”

I see Henry glance over his shoulder, and within seconds, our server is at our table with another glass of the wine I was drinking, and what looks suspiciously like whiskey or some other liquor in a glass for Henry.

I look up at him incredulously.

“Seriously, you arrogant ass? You already ordered the drinks? I think all that female attention you were getting over there has gone to your head.”

“I don’t care about them. I’m choosing to be here, with you, because it’s what I want.”

My mouth immediately goes dry. My heart pounds in my chest. I chastise myself for reading more into this than what he says. It’s his choice of words that get me, that he said he’s ‘choosing’ to be with me.

Before I know it, he’s pulling a chair out for me. Though inside I’m awkward about it, I don’t make a big deal because I don’t want to come off like a whack job.

“How is the new kitchen? Did you get to cook Thanksgiving dinner in it?”

“I did. It was nice. Lester came—he owns the hardware store in town—and my friend Ruthie came as well as her sister, Sally.”

“Sally? That’s my babysitter’s name. She’s not a spunky late sixties woman who wears matching track suits every day, is she?” Henry laughs like we couldn’t possibly be talking about the same woman.

I pull out my phone and open a selfie we took on Thanksgiving, then hand it over to him.

“Is this her?”

“Holy shit. You had Thanksgiving dinner with my babysitter? I don’t understand.”

“She’s my friend. They’re all my friends.”

Henry bites at his lower lip.

“Do you have any friends your own age? Besides me, I mean?”

I raise an eyebrow at him.

“I can’t tell if you’re implying that you think you seem young for your age or that I look old for mine. Because I’m pretty sure we’re not the exact same age.”

He rubs his hand over his chest and smiles. “Ouch. That one hurt. I’m thirty-five. Well, thirty-four. I’ll be thirty-five on Valentine’s Day.”

He looks at me expectantly, and I stare right back at him.

“When I met your adorable daughter, she told me that her grandmother taught her you never ask a lady what her age is. Are you telling me that your five-year-old daughter has more manners than you?” I’m grinning at him now, so he knows I’m giving him a hard time.

“Yes, she probably is more polite than me. How old are you, Matilda?”

“I’m thirty.”

“That’s not that far off from thirty-five. I’m just saying.”

I throw a balled-up napkin at him and take another sip of my wine. He picks up my phone again and holds it up to my face to unlock it, then he looks one more time.

“Is that lady Sally’s sister?”

“Yep.” Something strikes me. “You’re aware Sally is Jake’s grandmother, correct?”

He frowns at the mention of Jake.

“My babysitter tried to fix you up with Jake? I’ll have to cut back on her holiday bonus,” he teases.

I take another sip of my wine to avoid having to answer him.

I don’t want to have to tell him that I chickened out and didn’t go on the date.

Well, I’m not sure it was fear as much as I had no interest in him that way.

Which is sad because I thought my libido was starting to kick back into action after all these years.

When I look back at him, he’s studying the picture closer, concern etched in his face.

“Did you feel okay when you took this picture? Your cheeks are flushed, and your eyes seem like you aren’t well.”

I grab the phone from his hand and stare at it.

“How can you tell that?” I lift my eyes to meet his gaze.

“I have kids, remember? Were you sick?”

I shrug. “I was having trouble with my asthma. That’s all.” I look away from him, not wanting to look him in the eye.

“I wasn’t aware you had asthma. Not that we spent every waking moment together, but I did see you a lot when we were doing the project, and I never noticed you having an attack.”

“It’s usually pretty well-controlled. That was just a bad day for it.”

“Why? What happened? My mom has asthma, so I know something often happens to trigger it.”

I study his face for a few seconds, and I’m nearly positive by the intensity of his expression that he won’t let this go without an answer.

“Every year on Thanksgiving, my grandmother and I used to take a meal to my dad. He’s a two-pack-a-day smoker, and I took him food this year. He’s… he’s not very considerate and pretty self-centered, to be frank. The smell in the house wasn’t great for me, but when he lit up a cigarette?—”

“He lit up a cigarette when you were in the room with him, knowing you have asthma?” Henry’s eyes narrowed, his mouth slightly open.

I shrug.

“I left right away. It’s not a big deal. I used my inhaler a few times.”

I glance over to where his party is, and I notice the man I assume is his brother talking to another guy. The women are no longer at the table. I’d like to change the subject, and I see my opening.

“Uh oh. It looks like you stayed away too long, and your friends moved on. Also, is that your brother?”

I keep my focus on the group, as if I’m studying them.

“Matilda, look at me.” He waits until I do before continuing.

“I’m not over there because I don’t want to be.

I want to be over here. With you. I want to talk to you, not them.

One of these days, when I think you’ll agree, we’re going to talk about why that’s hard for you to accept… And yes, that’s my brother, Harrison.”

He still has most of his drink left, and I’ve only drunk about half of mine. I fix my gaze on my glass as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

“I probably shouldn’t finish this if I want to be able to drive home. It is delicious, though.” It comes out slightly louder than a whisper.

Henry glances down at his watch, then looks back up at me.

“It’s only nine-fifteen. I’m guessing I know your answer, but my mom has the kids overnight, so I don’t have to be home right away. Do you want to have a drink together at one of our houses? Preferably yours since you have a kick-ass kitchen.”

I eye him for several seconds. On the one hand, he’s my friend. My new friend, but still my friend. On the other hand, he’s insanely attractive, and I can’t deny there’s chemistry there. He waits patiently.

“You’re aware I’m not going to sleep with you, right? I’m pretty sure you could find that over there—” I gesture to the bachelor party with my head, “—if that’s what you’re looking for.”

He focuses his eyes on me, watching me, until I start to get uncomfortable with the silence.

“One, okay to no sex tonight, since that’s not why I was suggesting a drink. Two, once again, I don’t want that with those women. Three, I’d much rather spend my time hanging out with you than bar hopping for my second cousin’s bachelor party. Do you have any questions about that now?”

Tonight. He said, no sex ‘ tonight .’ Should I correct him that it’s no sex ever ? No. I’m being awkward. I shake my head in answer to his question.

“Good gi—Good. Let me tell Harrison I’m heading out, and then I’ll walk you to your car.”

We both stand.

“Make sure you tell him we’re not having sex.” I’m teasing, but sort of not. It earns me one of the boyish grins I love and a deep chuckle. I like that. A lot.

“Will do, tiger. See you in a minute.”

I wait until he’s far enough away and grab my things. I can walk myself to the car. Right as I’m pulling out of the parking lot, a text comes through.

Henry: Don’t respond, since you’re driving. Because you didn’t wait for me… You make me crazy sometimes.

“Don’t worry, Henry. I know the feeling,” I mutter to myself.