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Back The Companion Project
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

“I’m attracted to you, both physically and emotionally, which sounds fucking stupid when I say it out loud, but it’s the truth. I’m not going to pretend to know how to be in a relationship, and I’m fairly certain I’m going to be terrible at it, but I want to try to learn along the way with you, honey, because I like you a whole fucking lot. More than I’ve ever liked anyone else. I have no clue what that means or how to define this. Being a boyfriend or a partner or a significant other is a concept I’m wildly unfamiliar with. All I know is I can’t get you out of my fucking head, Emma. And I don’t want to.”

I run my hand through my hair, averting my eyes from her scrutinizing gaze. I feel her studying my face, considering every word. Every syllable. I’m not sure what she’s looking for, but I hope she finds it.

The silence is back, an ominous shadow lurking in the night. Holding my breath, I wait, content to give her as long as she needs.

“I like you too, Henry,” she says. My head jerks up at the statement, the words of affirmation firing straight through my skin, new fireworks erupting behind my ribs. Behind my lungs. Behind my goddamn heart. “Let’s do it.”

“You’re going to have to be very specific about what ‘it’ is, Emma, because I have a million and one ideas in my head, baby girl, and I’m not sure which one you’re referring to.”

Baby girl.

The endearment slips out far too easily, taking up residence on my new vocabulary list of Sweet Names I Want to Call Her. It’s wedged between honey and sweetheart, a sandwich of affection and fondness I’ve never expressed before. I like how it sounds rolling off my tongue and the blush it elicits from the beautiful blonde across the bed from me.

“I-I want to try with you, too. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a relationship, so I’m going to be rusty. But I want to do this with you. Together.”

Her hand reaches out, shaking as she grasps my arm and runs her thumb up my skin. It’s a direct path from my fingertips to my shoulder, close to my heart. I thread her hand in mine, cradling her palm against my bare chest. The Band-Aid from earlier is wrapped securely around her finger, and I make a promise to myself here on the duvet cover from 2006 that I’ll carry one in my pocket until the day I die.

Touching her in the privacy of my room, alone, because we want to, not because it’s for show, is an overwhelming recognition.