He pulled out her chairs, and held open all her doors, and told her she looked beautiful. He would sit patiently through her rants about the men she lived with, and he would watch all the sappy movies she loved without complaint.
He loved her more than anything.
But for all her effort, Henley couldn't get herself to care. She tried to pretend that she did, and everyone bought it and thought that they were hopelessly in love. At least, she though that she had everyone convinced, until one day her boyfriend sat her down in a cafe and told her that he couldn't pretend anymore. She had half-expected to feel a rush of regret as he walked away, the same regret she had felt when Daniel walked away the first time, but it didn't come. Instead, she felt a wave of relief as she drove home.
“Short date,” Daniel commented from the couch. She only shrugged and went to her room, but not before she noticed the pointed looks exchanged by the three men in the living room.
Jack brought ice cream and a stack of movies, mumbling something about a sister and tissues before rushing out of the room. Daniel avoided coming anywhere near the room, like breakups were contagious or something. Merritt came in, though, and just leaned inside the door, looking at her.
“Movie, you coming?”
“Shouldn’t you be hiding from the girl who just got dumped?” Henley asked from her chair where she was lounging with a book.
Merritt nodded thoughtfully. “I would be if I didn’t think you were going to get up and celebrate any second.” He stepped into the room and walked over to the chair. Henley watching with a cocked eyebrow as he lifted her feet, sat down, and put them in his lap.
“Why would I celebrate a breakup, Merritt?”
“Either because he was bad in bed or boring as fuck,” Merritt explained.. Henley laughed and shook her head. “And might I point out, I am neither of those.”
Henley rolled her eyes and sat up, pivoting herself so she could still see him. “He was perfect. He did all the right things, you know? He was cutesy and kind and gentlemanly and...”
“So, he was boring,” Merritt interrupted. Henley reached over and smacked his arm. “Oh, come on, he meant nothing to you.”
“And what makes you think that?” Henley asked indignantly.
“If you loved him maybe you would have kissed him properly once in a while.”
Henley's eyes narrowed. “And how do you know I never kissed him properly?”
Merritt grinned. “Because you never came home breathless and blushing.”
“And I suppose you could make me blush?”
“I guarantee it.”
Henley paused, and then leaned in, slipping her hand around to cup the back of Merritt's neck as she pulled him into a rough kiss. He responded immediately, one arm sliding around her waist as his other hand came up to tangle in her hair. The rough energy of the kiss slowly faded, until they were leaning against each other, breathing against the other's lips and stealing small, almost chaste kisses.
When they finally broke apart, they rested their foreheads on each other’s and stared. A small smiled tugged at the corner of Henley’s mouth as she looked into Merritt’s blue eyes.
“Just to be clear I’m not watching any chick flicks,” Merritt said, his voice sounding just a little bit breathless.
Henley laughed before grabbing his hat and placing it on her head. “We’ll see.”