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Back The Companion Project Save as PDF
Chapters (89)
  1. Dedication
  2. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  3. ONE
  4. HENRY
  5. TWO
  6. EMMA
  7. THREE
  8. HENRY
  9. FOUR
  10. EMMA
  11. FIVE
  12. EMMA
  13. SIX
  14. SEVEN
  15. HENRY
  16. EIGHT
  17. NINE
  18. TEN
  19. HENRY
  20. ELEVEN
  21. TWELVE
  22. EMMA
  23. THIRTEEN
  24. HENRY
  25. FOURTEEN
  26. HENRY
  27. FIFTEEN
  28. SIXTEEN
  29. EMMA
  30. SEVENTEEN
  31. HENRY
  32. EIGHTEEN
  33. HENRY
  34. NINETEEN
  35. HENRY
  36. TWENTY
  37. TWENTY-ONE
  38. EMMA
  39. TWENTY-TWO
  40. EMMA
  41. TWENTY-THREE
  42. HENRY
  43. TWENTY-FOUR
  44. EMMA
  45. TWENTY-FIVE
  46. EMMA
  47. TWENTY-SIX
  48. EMMA
  49. TWENTY-SEVEN
  50. HENRY
  51. TWENTY-EIGHT
  52. EMMA
  53. TWENTY-NINE
  54. HENRY
  55. THIRTY
  56. HENRY
  57. THIRTY-ONE
  58. HENRY
  59. THIRTY-TWO
  60. EMMA
  61. THIRTY-THREE
  62. HENRY
  63. THIRTY-FOUR
  64. EMMA
  65. THIRTY-FIVE
  66. EMMA
  67. THIRTY-SIX
  68. HENRY
  69. THIRTY-SEVEN
  70. EMMA
  71. THIRTY-EIGHT
  72. HENRY
  73. THIRTY-NINE
  74. HENRY
  75. FORTY
  76. EMMA
  77. FORTY-ONE
  78. HENRY
  79. FORTY-TWO
  80. FORTY-THREE
  81. EMMA
  82. FORTY-FOUR
  83. EMMA
  84. FORTY-FIVE
  85. HENRY
  86. EPILOGUE
  87. ALSO BY CHELSEA CURTO
  88. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  89. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

The conversation continues around me, but I feel like I’m out of my body, nodding along without actually processing the discussions, finding it difficult to focus on anything. I’ve never, ever felt like this with a man at an event. Alive. Distracted. Concentrated. A battle of will and what the hell is going to happen next.

The only thing that pulls me out of the dark thoughts of desire is Anne and George sharing stories of a young Henry, and I can’t stop my hysterical laughter when they recant how upset he was when, at six years old, he didn’t get to go to the sleepover Elizabeth’s friend was having.

“He wanted to have his nails painted and hair done. When I told him he wasn’t allowed to go, he packed up a knapsack and walked down the road for ten minutes, claiming he was running away. All because he didn’t get to play dress up.”

* * *

After dinner, when we arrive back at the house, we wave good night to his parents. The climb up to his room is silent and Henry lets me use the bathroom first, washing my face, brushing my teeth, and changing into my pajamas.

Stepping back into the room, I watch him pull some pillows off the bed, setting them up on the carpeted floor. He unzips a large sleeping bag, laying it out flat.

“What are you doing?” I ask as I climb onto the mattress and pull the comforter up to my chin.

“I’m going to sleep down here.”

“Why?”

Henry peers up at me, confused. “So we don’t sleep together?”

“Is there a reason you aren’t going to sleep in the actual bed?”

“Well, sharing isn’t an option. It’s okay, the floor is shockingly soft. That’s what you get when your mother splurges on the high-end carpet.”

“I don’t care if we share the bed, Henry,” I blurt out.

“You don’t?” His head tilts to the side, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s so much larger than me, taking up so much space. If he joined me up here, there wouldn’t be any substantial distance between us. I try to keep my attention trained on his face and not on the pajama bottoms hanging dangerously low on his hips or the worn shirt that’s almost see-through.

“Of course not. This is your home. I should be on the floor. I’m smaller anyway. Here, let’s switch.” I peel back the covers, swinging my legs to the side.