Definitely, Maybe in Love(24)

From his tone, I knew it wasn't wittiness he was after, it was  information. I could give him that. "Well, if you must know, I want to  change the world."

Even though it was dark, I could see he was smiling. "That's a pretty  tall order. Do you have a plan? Besides spreading the joys of  sustainability, I mean."

I couldn't help laughing. "That's definitely step one. And since step  one could take the next twenty years, I might stick with it for a  while."

Henry laughed quietly and ran a hand over his face. "I like your answer  very much," he said, his eyes following me as I sat up. "And I use the  word like because I can't think of another verb to do the sentiment  justice."

I smiled in the dark, amused at how I'd grown so used to his verbal formality.

"I'm all for you changing the world," he added.

I couldn't help feeling a little glow, and was grateful for the dimness  of the room in case I was blushing. "Speaking of change, it's getting  late." I handed him his crumpled scarf that I'd been using as a pillow.  "Or early, I mean." I flexed my bare feet out in front of me. "We're  both leaving in, like, two hours."

"Right," Henry said, running his index finger and thumb over his  eyelids. "I guess I should go now." I didn't think he'd actually been  asleep, but he did seem distracted again, like there was something he  wanted to say but hadn't. He'd behaved the same way when he'd climbed  through my window six hours ago.

He slid off the bed and onto the floor beside me. After a yawn and  stretch, he bent forward, leaning across my legs. I wasn't sure what he  was doing, until I realized he was reaching for his shoes.

His left shoulder pressed against my right. Even in the half-dark, the  definition in his reaching arm caught my attention. Tight tendons stood  out on the inside of his elbow and forearm as ropes of muscles flexed  and contracted every time he moved. His T-shirt stretched against the  hard ball of his bicep. I didn't see Henry in short sleeves often due to  chilly Bay Area weather. I was enjoying the view.

He grabbed his shoes and straightened, his shoulder still touching mine.  I bent my knees and scooted a few inches back, giving us both a little  space. Henry eyed me as I moved away.

"Before I leave," he said, fumbling with the laces on one shoe, "I'd  like to tell you something-two things, actually, if you don't mind."

His voice sounded thick, hesitant, and his cadence was more formal than  usual. I excused this, blaming it on how we'd just stayed up all night  even after a week's worth of stressful finals.

When he lifted his brown eyes to me, there was a softness in them that I  recognized. The next thing I knew, it was like we were back in his  hallway, legs entangled on the floor, Henry's hand on my arm. But this  time, my music was playing in the background, we were on a sheepskin  rug, totally alone, no roommates to disturb us, no Lilah to interrupt.

"What," I whispered, "do you want to tell me?"

I thought I knew. I hoped I knew. I was petrified that I knew.

Henry scooted forward, and I automatically leaned in to meet him. Part  of my brain thought it was strange how I wasn't trying to stop, while  another part was relieved beyond belief.

He blinked his long lashes and pulled back an inch. "What was that?" he whispered.

"What was what?"

Henry's eyes flashed to the window, both of us hearing the same rustling  from the other side. "Wait," he cautioned as I rose to investigate. I  felt him hold the back of my shirt for just a second, maybe cautioning  me, but I didn't heed the warning.                       
       
           



       

The first thing I noticed was that I'd forgotten to haul in the ladder  after Henry had been working on it earlier tonight. I hadn't locked the  window on the inside, either. I stood before the glass and peered  outside. It was pitch black at almost five in the morning, no hint of  sunrise. Only my reflection showed as I slid open the glass and leaned  over the ledge.

A wet pair of lips crashed against mine.

I gasped and hit the back of my head on the frame, staggering away from the window.

"How's the sexiest girl on campus?" Alex was halfway through the window before I could do anything.

"Stop," I hissed. "What are you doing here?"

"On my way back to the Frat house. Saw your shades open." Effortlessly,  in swung his legs, followed by his lanky body. "Thought I'd drop on in,  ya know? Like old times." Grinning ear to ear, he bowed, his long arms  going to my waist. I could smell a fraternity party on his breath and  clothes.

"Alex, don't," I growled, pushing my elbows against his chest. I had not  forgotten who was behind me, witnessing from a front row seat. Freeing  myself as much as I could, I turned around, hoping, actually, for a  little help.

But Henry just stood there, his jacket draped over one shoulder, staring at me.

In his altered state, it took Alex a few seconds longer to notice Henry.  When he did, he chortled softly and swayed back on his heels. "On your  way out, Knightly?" he slurred, his voice a mixture of laughter,  smugness, and nerve as he threw one arm around me. "I'll take it from  here. Buh-bye."

A muscle jerked in Henry's jaw, but he was no longer looking at me.  "Leave," he said. His voice sounded threatening, and the look in his  eyes was more than hostile.

But Alex didn't move. He was actually … smiling.

Henry's eyes shifted to mine. "Tell him to leave your house and never come back."

"Why?" I couldn't help asking, a little alarmed by his sudden  aggression. I mean, I knew they had a history, bad blood and all that.  And Alex waltzing through my window was certainly unwanted and a little  creepy, but that was my problem, not his.

Henry didn't answer me for a moment; maybe attempting to control his  anger. "Spring," he finally said, echoes of his stern, lecturing voice  that drove me insane, "tell him to go. You do not want to be alone with  him."

I was about to ask him why again, but the fury on his face made me stop.  When he released a sharp exhale and glared at Alex, I knew my words  weren't needed. So I stood still, not knowing what to expect. A fight?  Would some punches be thrown? Maybe I'd hear some impressive swearing  out of Henry.

But without a word, he turned and was gone out the door. Temporarily  paralyzed, I could only stare after him, expecting him to reappear,  hoping he would reappear. But then I heard the front door slam and my  stomach hit the floor.

"Good riddance, douchebag."

"Hey," I growled, swinging around, torn between running after Henry and  dealing with Alex. When Alex grinned, folded his arms, and leaned  against my desk, the priority was clear.

"How dare you just show up here?"

"Come on, Spring," he slurred.

"No, listen to me. This is totally inappropriate. He's right, you need to leave."

Alex snorted. "Why?"

I was too exhausted to get into anything heavy with him and too  bewildered by Henry's behavior. He said I shouldn't be alone with Alex,  and yet hadn't he just taken off and left us alone? I would think about  that later. Right now, I needed this presumptuous frat boy out of my  bedroom.

"Alex, you're drunk. Go home and sleep it off." I just wanted him gone,  the smell of him, the sight of him … all of him, just gone. I was almost  willing to drive him back to the frat house myself, but after a moment,  he shrugged and began crawling out the window.

Not trusting him to actually go, I kept my eyes on him the whole way  down the ladder, never losing track until he stumbled around the corner.  Then my gaze automatically shifted to the house across the street.  Henry's bedroom light was on and it looked as though the blinds had just  moved back into place. My impulse was to slide down the ladder and try  to explain myself, explain that I didn't make it a habit to let Alex  Parks-or any guy-in my bedroom at five in the morning. But before I  could get one leg through the window, his light went out.





Chapter 17

"Was your whole family home for New Years?" I asked, reaching to take the plate Julia was holding. "All six kids?"

"Yep," she answered, then clicked her tongue. "Yes-sir-ree bob." She  kicked the empty dishwasher closed. It wasn't a violent action, and yet  it was. Julia was seldom moody. It was probably jetlag-she'd landed  pretty late last night. Or maybe it was the stress of the upcoming  semester. Classes were starting again in two days.                       
       
           



       

"How was your vacation?" she asked as she walked around the kitchen,  mindlessly opening and closing drawers. "Did you have a nice time at  home?" The lilt in her voice was forced. She grabbed a sponge and began  scrubbing the already clean sink.