Without another word, he turned and walked away, and I stared at the muscles rippling across his toned back while this goddamn stranger somehow left me with more questions than answers yet again. Though one stuck out more than the rest.
“Henry?”
He stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder at me.
“How do you know my last name?”
That twinkle in his eye lit up his face for just a moment before he said, “You may have been drunk, but you sure had a lot ofthings to tell me on the way home. Even if they were mumbled against my chest most of the way.”
Chapter Eight
Henry
It had been an hour since I’d forced myself to walk away from her horrified expression, but she’d occupied my mind the entire time since. I couldn’t get all the things she’d told me on the walk home last night out of my mind.
My friends call me Bee like the buzzy bee, but I’m not really a bee. Bet I could still sting you, though, so you should be careful.
Holy moly, what is that aftershave? It makes me want to bite you.
I won’t bite you. Bees don’t bite.
Wait. I’m not actually a bee, am I?
No. I’m Phoebe.She nodded against my chest, snuggling in even closer.Phoebe Turner.
And you… you’re Henry Too-Good-For-Everyone Cohen.
Snort.
I think I need to sleep now. Everything’s spinning.
Hmm. That aftershave, though.
I hope I’m as light as a bee for you to carry me all the way… my ex-boyfriend used to say I was too… too… sigh.
I only wished she’d finished that thought before sleep had stolen her rambling, slurred voice from me. Though part of me feared her saying her ex used to say something bad about her would only make me angrier than I already felt.
I’d had to turn my back on the pool after our earlier exchange about last night, unable to watch her diving in and out of it with ease and coming up for air with the water dripping from every part of her body, driving me insane.
Andy and Jace joined me at one of the poolside tables not long after I’d walked away from Phoebe, but both were moaning about being on the opposite side of the pool to what they now called ‘their girls’. The constant flirting with Phoebe’s friends left me with a permanent headache—the reason I’d been rubbing my temples when Andy’s voice brought my attention back to the conversation.
“I think it’s time we had a chat, don’t you, Cohen?”
With my fingers still pressed to my head, I glanced up at Andy on the other side of the table and waited for him to go on. The guy had been in my life for the majority of it; I didn’t need to say anything to know this was going to be one of his infamous lectures.
“Just give it to me straight, okay,” he said. “Are you hot for Phoebe?”
I closed my eyes for a beat, then dropped my hands down into my lap. “Are we really doing this?”
He wrapped a hand around his ice-cold beer, the tension in his knuckles visible. “I think I deserve to know. Although your actions are making it pretty obvious.”
“My actions?” I raised a brow. “You mean making sure she got home safely instead of leaving her wasted in the middle of nowhere for anyone to pick up? I’d have done the same for any of the girls, not just Phoebe, and you know it.”
“That’s not denying you’re into her.”
Jace kept looking at his phone, not wanting to be a part of this or get involved in another one of our fights.
“We’ve been here three days, mate. I’m not into anybody yet.” It was a lie I couldn’t afford not to tell. Not right then.
