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Chapter Fifteen

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I made a little more effort than you usually would for a sleepover, wearing my beige-toned leopard print leggings, and a slouchy black knitted jumper. I wanted to keep it casual, but equally, look a little sexy, and when it came to packing my overnight bag, I packed and unpacked several times, not happy until I shoved clothes in at random so I wouldn't overthink it.

I'm not sure why I worried so much, because as soon as Henry let me into his house, the nerves disappeared. He took my big bag upstairs, making a silly comment about me staying longer than a night, returning a moment later to let me know that Mabel wouldn't be home for a few more hours.

I could barely take my eyes off him when he rounded the sofa to invite me to sit next to him. Dressed in a merle grey sweater, and dark blue bootleg jeans, he wore his hair slicked back, looking like it was still wet from washing it, the edges of the strands curling around his ears.

"Come cuddle with me," he said, smirking over the words.

I hurried over there, pressing into his side when I snuggled into the cushions that were puffy enough to swallow you whole. "You smell good."

His lips lingered in my hair. "I've worn the same aftershave for years."

I played with the wool fabric of his top. "You have?"

"Yeah, it reminds me of better times," he said, tugging me closer to his body.

My nose landed at his neck where the scent completely consumed me.

"I recognise it."

He cleared his throat. "You do?"

"Yeah," I whispered, taking a lungful of it. "I think my dad wears the same. Is it Chanel?"

"Sure is. It's Egoiste. I bought my first bottle at the duty-free on the way to my first ever holiday away from my parents, and I've never looked back."

I tilted my head, catching my reflection in his tortoiseshell glasses. "I'm fickle with my scent. I don't get through one bottle of perfume before buying another."

He chuckled, his lips lingering on the back of my head when I turned over. "So, you're a little indecisive?"

"About some things," I replied, letting my gaze go back to the television that was playing in the background.

The edges of his nails scratched up and down my thigh. I could get used to this, I thought. "We have Mabel's blessing, by the way."

I widened my eyes. "We do?"

It didn't surprise me because all she wanted was for her family to be happy.

It appeared he wanted to get comfortable when he wiggled back into the cushions, bringing me with him so he could curl around me from behind. "I don't think my mother helped by putting ideas into her head. All I got this morning was her asking if we were going to get married one day, then she told me she had to be a bridesmaid."

"Marriage?" I said on a squeak.

Henry slow-blinked before answering, "She's six years old. Her ideas aren't always rational."

"Yeah." I moved my head in a slight daze.

Henry bit his lip through a smirk. "I wasn't go to ask you to marry me. Take a breath."

"I didn't think you were. But, that's seriously cute. It helps to know she's okay about there being an us," I replied.

"But, are you okay with the situation? I come with a lot of baggage, and I know that. It isn't an easy situation," he said, rubbing my arm. I wasn't sure if it was for more of a distraction or for comfort.

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