Touch Me Like You Care

The muffled sounds of a guy and a girl getting down and dirty buzzed in my ears.

I caught a glimpse through the door crack—Henry Larson and his girlfriend tangled in a heated moment.

Henry was like a wild, fearless creature, powerful and untamed.

My cheeks burned with a mix of feelings I could not quite sort out.

Part of me, the part that was all teenage curiosity and hormones, wondered if Henry had treated me the same way, would I be able to handle it?

However, another part, the pure green-eyed monster, could not understand why Henry would choose her over me. I mean, I was pretty sure I had her beat in the looks department by a mile.

Henry was the boy next door—literally—and the guy I had been crushing on for what felt like forever.

With my parents out of town for a month, the idea of staying alone in our big, empty house freaked me out. So, naturally, I thought of asking Henry to come over for some company.

And, okay, maybe I was hoping for a little more than just company. Maybe I was hoping for him to finally notice me.

However, barging in on him then? Not the best timing.

I messaged him once I got home, not really expecting much. However, he said yes like it was no big deal. I was buzzing with excitement, plotting how I would make Henry fall head over heels for me.

After my shower that night, I skipped the pajamas and went for just a towel. I might be young, but let's just say I have been blessed in the body department.

The towel was struggling to do its job.

"Henry, your turn for the shower," I chirped, bouncing into his room.

I was a little out of breath, my face all flushed, and my chest doing that dramatic rise-and-fall thing.

Henry just stood there, his eyes practically glued to my, well, assets. He cleared his throat and quickly looked away.

"Uh, yeah, I'll go wash up," he mumbled, grabbing his clothes and making a quick exit.

As Henry walked by, I staged a little stumble, tumbling forward.

Henry reached out, pulling me into a safe, warm hug, and I could not resist clinging to his waist.

Oops! My towel chose that exact moment to fall to the floor.

I was, well, in my birthday suit.

Henry was just in a T-shirt, and I felt his heat right through it. His eyes were like lasers, and I swear I could see his throat work as he swallowed.

I bit my lip, feeling my cheeks burn. I could not help but look down, even though my heart was doing somersaults.

In the movies, was that not the moment when the guy leaned in for a kiss? Or was it up to me to make the move?

While I was debating with myself, Henry's lips were inching closer.

My heart was pounding so loudly, I thought it might burst.

Was Henry going to kiss me? After that, would things get... you know, serious? Was I about to become Henry's girl tonight?

I braced myself, nerves and excitement battling inside me, and closed my eyes, waiting for that sweet first kiss.

However, all Henry did was pick up the towel and drape it around me.

"Make sure to tie your towel tighter next time, so it doesn't slip off," he said. Then, he was off to shower, leaving me standing there.

I felt a twinge of disappointment, puffing out my cheeks in a pout.

Why did not it go like I thought it would?

I mean, after all that, Henry still did not seem to want me? Considering how many girls Henry brought home, I figured he would be into it.

People like him usually act on impulse, and I was way cuter than those other girls, but even that did not do the trick.

Could it be that he really did not like me at all?