My question seemed like a logical one; it had been about five minutes since either of us had spoken or moved, and that was the longest we'd gone without kissing all night.
"Thinking, not sleeping," he whispered, pressing his lips to my hairline.
"About?" I asked, resting my chin on top of his shoulder so I could look him in the eyes. Henry in the dim white light of pre-dawn. Swoon City.
He took a deep breath, twisting his back in a little stretch. "Timing," he answered. "And irony."
"Timing and irony occupies your mind at five in the morning? Is that the effect I have on you?"
"The effect you have on me … " he repeated. He was looking past me, up at the murky sky. "Actually, I was thinking about being back at Stanford, in the house across the street, and being here now. Timing."
I gave his arm a squeeze. "And irony?"
"The irony is, back in December, I felt like I was spending all my energy trying to not be overtly obvious about my feelings." He turned to me. "And you never knew?"
I lifted my eyebrows.
"Should I have said something then? I tried to, you know."
"Timing," I whispered, rubbing my cheek against his shoulder. The soft wool blend of his sweater felt itchy compared to his skin. Even though we'd been together all night, I couldn't get over the feel of him, his taste, that potent, delicious smell of his neck. I was higher than a fan at a Bob Marley concert.
"But still, I'm torn on this subject," Henry continued. "I realize that arrogance is supposed to be a turn off." There was a smile in his voice. "I guess my being sucked in by your wily ways was all part of your plan."
"Oh, yes," I said after a laugh. "My plan. You fell right into that. It only took seven months."
He laughed softly and stared at the sky again. "Really, what would your reaction have been the night before vacation if I'd kissed you?"
"You mean tried to kiss me?" I corrected, letting go of his arm to run my finger over his chin.
He scoffed-that charming arrogance. "There would've been no trying, Spring," he said. "What would you have done?"
"Most likely I would've punched you in the stomach," I answered, running my finger back and forth across his bottom lip.
Henry was quiet for a moment. "And then what would you have done?" he asked. "After I kissed you a third time, I mean." The man was nothing if not persistent.
"Probably kicked you in the ribs." I propped up onto my hands, my face hovering over his, only to lower myself down, settling halfway on his chest, my nose at his neck.
Henry slid his hands inside the back of my shirt. It seemed to be his favorite place to linger, like his neck was to me. We both needed to feel skin. It was a little surprising how I never once felt nervous or uncomfortable, scared about what might happen next. More importantly-unlike with every other guy-I was never once bored.
"And after a fourth time?" he asked, sounding relaxed.
"Haven't you had enough rejection?" I whispered, planting kisses down his neck and taking deep inhales.
He didn't reply. His hands slid out from inside my shirt and ran down my back from my head to my waist, long strokes, like he was painting me. I tilted my chin so I could see him, but his gaze was turned away, as if purposefully ignoring me. His eyes seemed to be intently focused on something else now, something he was holding in his hand on the other side of me, but I couldn't see what it was.
His free hand cupped the back of my head, his fingers kneading tenderly. He turned his other hand toward the light, and I could finally see what it was that he was fingering so gently. It was one of my braids.
Almost reverently, he moved it to his mouth and kissed it.
Chapter 24
"Spring. Spring? Spring!"
"What?" I gasped and jolted forward, my seat belt yanking me back. In the process, I banged my elbow against the cooler on the seat next to me. After multiple blinks, I focused on Mel's face between the two front seats.
"What's the difference between a crow and a blackbird?"
Sheesh, is that all?
"Sorry, were you napping or … ?" Her gaze slid two spaces over.
I also took a quick glance in that direction. Henry was staring out his window at the passing scenery of pines and telephone poles. Fist at chin, his expression totally blank.
I breathed out quietly and returned to Mel, rubbing my elbow. "Umm, blackbirds are small, waders, they have specific songs, while crows are larger." I forced myself to be thorough. "For example, ravens are commonly referred to under the generic umbrella of crow."
"Ew! Ravens are huge and creepy," she complained.
"Right?" I agreed, nodding eagerly.
Satisfied, Mel returned to her seat, relaying my information to Tyler, who was driving us back to Vancouver.
I rounded my lips and released a quiet exhale, sending another sideways glance toward Henry.
A little grin was on his face now, but he was still looking out the window. "You were thinking about last night, weren't you?" he guessed in a voice only I could hear.
I hissed air through my teeth to shush him.
"Yeah." He blinked slowly and gave me a very intense look. "So was I."
"And what about those little blackbird things? The tiny ones?" Mel asked, turning to me again. Before I could answer, her expression bent. "Are you okay, babe? Your face is totally flushed."
I was about to lift my hand to check the temperature on my forehead, but Dr. Melanie beat me to it.
"No, you don't feel hot." She grabbed my wrist. "But your pulse is going like a hummingbird and your hands are freezing. Here." She tossed a blanket over the seat to me. "It's probably making you too cold sitting between the window and the cooler. Ty, why didn't you dump out the ice? Tyler? Henry, help me move it. No, this way."
Mel deftly leaned over the seat, unlatched my seat belt and pulled me forward by the arm so Henry could push the cooler over, leaving me in the middle seat next to him.
"There," Mel said, examining my new position. "Much better." She nodded and returned to her seat. "We've still got four days to go. Mustn't get you sick." She started barking at Tyler to watch the road.
I sat stock-still, Henry right beside me. I didn't have the guts to look at him just yet, but I could feel his shoulder shaking in a suppressed laugh. I tried to casually lean away. He leaned away as well, propping an elbow on the armrest.
A moment later, the blanket over my lap moved slightly, and I felt Henry's hand on my arm, then it slid between my back and the seat. My eyes popped open and I stared forward as his fingers tiptoed up. I couldn't help arching my back, my breaths becoming shallow.
"What are you doing?" I whispered, trying to regain control of my faculties. He laughed quietly, his fingers manipulating the very sensitive nape of my neck. My back arched again. "S-s-stop … " I almost whimpered.
"Why?"
"Because." I bit my lip. "Because if you don't stop, I'll start purring. Do you want to explain that to them?"
His smile grew but he did remove his hand and set it on his knee. "Spring," he whispered, "do you honestly believe they think we were up all night discussing old times? That was a brilliant explanation, by the way, as to why my sleeping bag was still rolled up in the corner of the tent."
"They know?" I gasped under my breath, my eyes moving to the front seat where Mel and Tyler were in the middle of a lively debate over the GPS.
Henry shrugged. "I didn't say anything. After you jumped a foot away from me when Mel came out of the tent this morning, I figured you wanted to keep it between us for now." He tilted his head. "Is this weird for you? Us?"
"A little," I admitted in a whisper. "I'll tell her later tonight. She's going to make such huge deal about it. I just … I don't … "
"It's okay, I don't mind," Henry said. "In fact"-the blanket over my lap moved again-"I like making you purr." His hand slid up the inside of my shirt, his fingers tracing the line of my spine.
"I … " I actually did whimper this time. "I think I'm gonna have a stroke."
"Kiss me," Henry whispered. "You'll feel better."
The suggestion made me bite my lip, but I managed to pull it together and lean back on the seat, squishing his hand, forcing him to pull it away.