Chapter 24
Penelope
As soon as Theo walked in the door, my heart fluttered. I swallowed hard, willing my face to be still—to look normal.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi.”
For a second, he hesitated, his eyes on me. It looked like he wanted to say something else. But he didn’t. Without another word, he walked away, disappearing down the hall and into his bedroom.
It felt like my heart dropped right through the couch and onto the floor. I set my book down—I’d hardly been aware of what I was reading anyway—and pulled the blanket higher up my lap.
Regrets. Theo had regrets. I should have said no.
Not that I’d wanted to say no. My desire for him had been overwhelming. But maybe we could have avoided the mess we were in.
Because it felt like everything was unraveling.
I’d tried so hard to be nonchalant in the morning, as if everything was fine. We were still just friends. Roommates getting ready for our workday. Like nothing extraordinary had happened the night before.
But on the inside? I’d been a mess. Still was.
It wasn’t that I regretted sleeping with him. I just hated this feeling of awkward separation. Like we suddenly didn’t know how to be around each other.
He was trying as hard as I was to pretend nothing had changed. I could hear it in his voice and see it in the way he looked at me.
I wondered if he’d been half as distracted at school as I had.
I’d fumbled and stumbled and forgotten things, losing my train of thought mid-lecture during at least four different classes.
I’d almost started my juniors and seniors on a project we’d already finished, and my freshman and sophomores were so confused when I’d asked them to set up their stations for painting, when they were supposed to be doing sketches.
And lunch with him? Agony. He’d been right there next to me, but the entire time I’d felt the gulf between us. So close, yet so far away.
I didn’t know what I should do. Go talk to him? Tell him I was sorry, could we please just be friends again?
Everything was too complicated. I had big feelings for Theo Haven, and not because we’d slept together. Not even because it had been the single most incredible night of my life. I very much had more-than-friends feelings, but they were for a man I couldn’t have.
Or at least, a man I couldn’t keep. Because he was leaving.
Even if our night together had been as good for him as it was for me—which was hard to believe—we couldn’t take the next step. Where would that lead? Dating for a while, and then what? A long-distance relationship? For how long?
I couldn’t leave Grandma Colleen. She didn’t have anyone else. Besides, I was getting ahead of myself. I had no reason to believe Theo wanted a relationship. In fact, I had every reason to believe he didn’t. He’d told me so himself.
There was only one thing to do. Keep my tangled mess of feelings to myself and wait for Theo to realize he didn’t need to regret sleeping with me. We could still be friends, and everything would be fine.
He didn’t come out right away, so I decided to make dinner. I’d cooked last, and we’d eased into a pattern of taking turns, but I didn’t mind. It would give me something to do. Keep my mind off Theo and all my feelings for a while.
There was ground beef defrosted in the fridge, so I decided on spaghetti. It was simple, but one of my favorite comfort foods. I set to work browning the meat and boiling water for pasta.
I found a jar of marinara sauce in the cupboard but didn’t see any spaghetti noodles. It seemed like I’d bought some, but after rooting around, I didn’t find any.
The lack of spaghetti almost made me burst into tears in the middle of the kitchen.
I took a shaky breath and bit my lower lip to keep the tears from spilling. What was wrong with me? We had other pastas, I could totally make do. I grabbed a box of linguine and set it next to the stove.
The water came to a boil, and I put some pasta in the pot. The steam fogged up my glasses. Stepping back, I took them off to wipe them clean.
The fuzzy outline of Theo appeared in the kitchen doorway, startling me so much I yelped and dropped my glasses.
“Sorry,” Theo said, and I could see his form crouch down to pick them up for me. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I didn’t hear you coming.”
He straightened and moved in front of me. The first thing that came into focus as he gently slipped on my glasses was his face. That handsome face with deep blue eyes and a chiseled, stubbly jaw.
My traitorous body tingled at his proximity. His hair was damp, and he smelled deliciously clean. Almost of their own accord, my lips parted, and I lifted my chin.
Something like pain, or maybe just concern, crossed his features.
Then his eyes flicked to the side to look past me. “Uh, Pen?”
“Yeah?”
He pointed at the stove behind me. “There’s a lot going on over there.”
“Oh!” I whipped around and sure enough, the meat sauce was bubbling, splattering red all over the stovetop, and the pasta was on the verge of boiling over.
I fumbled for the dials and only succeeded in turning the other two burners on. Realizing my mistake, I turned them off and reduced the heat on the sauce and pasta. I gave the meat sauce a quick stir—I’d clean up the mess later—and swirled the pasta so it wouldn’t stick to the pot.
When I turned around, Theo was watching me with a subtle smile that puckered his dimples.
“We’re fine.” I adjusted my glasses, not because they were crooked, but because I was so jumpy. “What I mean is, dinner is fine. Nothing burned. There’s a bit of a mess, but that’s okay. Messes happen.”
“Thanks for cooking. I was just coming out to see if you were hungry.”
“I don’t mind.” I glanced over my shoulder at the stove to make sure nothing was going awry again. “Spaghetti is easy, especially when you use jarred sauce. But it’s not actually spaghetti, it’s linguine, because we don’t have spaghetti noodles, even though I could have sworn I bought some.”
He opened his mouth but paused, like he wasn’t sure what to make of my babbling. “Linguine will be great.”
“So great.” My voice probably had too much enthusiasm, but I was still trying to keep from crying over the lack of spaghetti. I turned back to the stove and stirred things again. “Can you peek in the fridge and see if there’s Parmesan? I forgot to look.”
I heard the fridge door open as I stirred the pasta.
“Yep, right here,” he said.
“That’s good. I guess you can have spaghetti that’s not spaghetti but linguine with meat sauce without Parmesan, but really, who wants that?”
I stopped babbling—thankfully—and focused on the food, although there wasn’t really anything for me to do. I stirred a few more times and adjusted the heat, as if it were necessary.
“Hey, Pen?”
The softness of his voice felt like a caress. Pressing my lips together so I didn’t keep babbling at him—or burst into tears over pasta—I turned.
He opened his mouth to say something, but my phone buzzed on the counter. Craning my neck, I glanced at the screen. It was the assisted living center.
“Sorry, it’s Grandma Colleen. I should take that.”
“Of course. Go ahead.”
I turned off the stove to avoid burning our dinner, then picked up my phone to answer. “Hello?”
“Penelope, this is Janine at Tilikum Assisted Living.”
“Hi, Janine. Is everything all right?”
“Yes, but I wanted to let you know your grandma had a minor incident today. She’s fine, I’m only calling to keep you updated.”
Despite Janine’s reassurance, a sick feeling spread through me. “What happened?”
“She felt lightheaded and nauseated. She was able to call for assistance and our medical team responded.”
“What was wrong? How is she now?”
“Her doctor believes it was related to some recent medication changes. She’s much better now. The symptoms subsided, and we’ll be monitoring her closely.”
“Can I talk to her?”
“Of course. I’ll put you through to her room.”
“Thank you.”
Theo’s brow furrowed with concern. “Is she okay?”
I nodded as the phone rang. “Sounds minor. They were just letting me know. Her phone is ringing.”
“Hello?” she answered.
“Hi, Grandma. It’s Penelope.”
“Goodness, did they call you?”
“Yes, just now. Janine said you had a dizzy spell.”
“It was a bunch of nothing. I’m all right. They didn’t need to worry you over it.”
“Well, I’m glad they called anyway. How are you feeling?”
“Just fine. It didn’t last long. I felt a bit sick and clammy, then thought I might tumble out of my chair. Don’t worry, I didn’t. Felt a bit faint is all. My doctor says I’m fine. Made some medication adjustments and it shouldn’t happen again.”
“I’m so glad.”
“You’ll be stuck with me a while longer, I’m afraid.”
I laughed a little. “Let’s hope so. Can I come over?”
“What, now? That’s not necessary.”
“I want to anyway. It’ll make me feel better.”
“All right, if you insist. Have you eaten yet? I ate earlier, but it must be about time for you to have dinner.”
“Actually, I was just about to have some spaghetti.”
“Eat first, for goodness’ sake. No reason to rush.”
“Okay, quick dinner and then I’ll be over. Can I bring you anything?”
“Not that I can think of. See you later, Penny.”
“All right. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
With a sigh of relief, I ended the call and set down my phone. “She’s okay. She felt faint and sick, so she called for assistance. Her doctor thinks it was due to a medication change. It’s nothing serious, but I’m going to check on her after dinner to make sure.”
“Really glad she’s okay,” he said.
“Me too.” I glanced at the food on the stove. “Let’s eat.”
Piling pasta and sauce on two plates, we took our food to the table. While we ate, we chatted about school and the football team. That seemed to melt some of the tension. Then the conversation shifted to Morris and the mysterious notes.
The longer we talked, the easier it felt. The gap between us seemed to be closing. When he made a joke and we both laughed—just like usual—I took it as a good sign.
Maybe our friendship wasn’t ruined after all.
After we finished eating, he took our dishes to the kitchen to clean up. I gazed at him for a moment, and the longing I felt so deeply rose to the surface.
I let out a slow breath. I was going to have to learn to live with all those feelings, at least until he was gone.
And one thing was certain. I could not wind up in his bed again.