Chapter 19 Penny
Penny
NOW
My pulse thrums in my ears as Fia drags me through the growing crowd near the small stage. I don’t look back—I don’t have to. I can still feel Jesse’s eyes on my back, even with that tall brunette wrapped around him like a snake.
Why wouldn’t she be? He’s magnetic and mysterious and beautiful, and that’s always been his problem.
Or my problem.
Fuck. I really am little miss one-vodka-soda.
I glance at my phone, it’s only eight thirty, the band comes on at nine, but it’s already feeling late.
I’m getting old.
“Up for a game of darts?” I raise a brow, and my sister smiles.
I lace my hand through hers, leading us toward the darts in the back corner.
Jesse’s leaning against a nearby wall, still cornered in conversation with Laura and her posse, but I can feel the weight of his stare tracking me. He doesn’t hide it well. He never did.
Fine. If he wants to look, I’ll give him something to watch.
Mr. Cool, calm, and collected.
Fia sighs beside me. “Shoot, none of them are open.”
They are indeed all in use. But then I see an opportunity.
“Give it a minute.” I slide her my credit card. “Go grab me another drink?”
She hesitates but listens as I smooth my skirt and take a step toward the pack of frat guys around the dart board. Their eyes rake across my body, and though I want to say something feisty, I force a slow, practiced smile.
“Excuse me boys,” I purr. “Think my sister and I could take a turn?”
They all eye each other, faces caught in half smirks.
“Sure, you can have the board if you can hit the bullseye.” One of the guys winks at me, and I force a giggle. Off to the side, I notice Jesse become alert, peeling his shoulders from the wall. He crosses his arms tight, watching me like he's paid to.
Perfect.
I shake the guy’s hand, and he turns his baseball cap backward, showcasing blue eyes and a chiseled jaw. College Penny would’ve had his number in about three minutes, but right now, I have one mission.
Blue Eyes hands me a dart, fingers lingering just a second too long. He knows what he’s doing, but so do I. I suck the corner of my bottom lip seductively between my teeth, not because I want to—but because I know Jesse is watching. And I know it will drive him nuts.
“I think I deserve a warm-up shot,” I tease in the flirtiest vibrato I can manage.
He grins. “Sure. Show us what you got.”
I turn toward the board, adjusting my stance deliberately, and tilt my ass out just enough to drive attention to my miniskirt.
The dart is sticky in between my fingers, but I turn to Blue Eyes. “Can you…show me?” I pout. “I’ve never done this before. My form’s probably awful.”
He closes the gap between us without hesitation. “May I?” he asks, reeking of cheap beer, and I nod. His arm wraps around the outside of mine, and he murmurs in my ear, “Just like this.”
I let him guide my fingers and release the dart when he says to, his lips too close to my earlobe. The dart flies and hits the board—barely.
When I turn, he’s close, too close. His smile is cocky, dimples deep. But I’m not looking at him.
I’m looking at the brooding guy ten feet away, who’s now standing straight as a board, jaw tight, no sign he’s trying to hide it.
The bar is filling in, but it wouldn’t matter if there were five hundred people in here.
I know how it feels to have his eyes on me.
Like my whole body is buzzing with electricity.
“I think I’m ready to try by myself,” I say sweetly, brushing past Blue Eyes and his friends, yanking the dart from the board.
Fia returns with my drink and stops to take in the scene unfolding before her. She looks at me, wide-eyed, and I wink back at her.
Lining my feet up and turning my body, I wiggle my arms to loosen up, feigning nervousness. Then without missing a beat, I throw the little metal dart.
It flies right into the bullseye, just like I knew it would.
The group of guys all holler, gripping their heads, like I just scored a touchdown.
Fia’s jaw is on the floor, and she laughs, walking cautiously toward me as I gather all the darts.
“Oopsie! Beginner’s luck,” I muse, shrugging.
“Fair is fair.” The same guy hands me all the darts. “But hey, lemme get you a drink.” He smiles, clearly thinking he’s going to score. I barely have the heart to tell him to scram, but I don’t have to.
Jesse’s voice cuts through the crowd, low and solid. “She’s already got a drink.”
His arm snakes around my shoulders, his presence swallowing me whole.
I glance down at his tattooed knuckles curled around his whiskey glass, veins flexing under his skin.
The inked words catch my eye—HOPE. HURT.
One on each hand. I noticed them when he was stacking wood into the fireplace the other day.
Blue Eyes pales and steps back. “My bad, man. Didn’t realize…”
Jesse’s arm stays there, heavy, like an anchor across my shoulders. I could move easily if I wanted to, but for some reason, I don’t really want to.
Maybe for one split second I want to pretend I got everything I ever wanted, even if it’s far from the truth.
“What the hell was that?” Fia whispers, and I’m pulled back into reality. I’m not sure if she is mortified or impressed by her big sister.
“Those guys had no good intentions,” he says stiffly, and Fia’s eyes drop to his arm still around me. He promptly drops it, coming to stand next to me instead. A pang of hurt reaches up and grips me.
Jesse snatches a dart, steps up, and throws it.
Bullseye.
“Damn, are you both professionals?” Fia laughs, and I grab Jesse’s drink from his grip before he can object, throwing back the remaining whiskey.
Jesse looks me up and down, a punishing look on his face.
“Shit, I have to pee,” Fia blurts out, leaving her drink on the high-top.
“I’ll come—”
“I’ll be fine, it’s right there.” She’s gone before I can argue.
The second the door swings shut behind her, Jesse leans in toward me—elbows on the table, head tilting to meet my gaze.
“Didn’t peg you as a cougar,” Jesse says casually.
“And I didn’t take you as the jealous type—”
“They were getting a bit handsy.” He cuts me off as a quick flicker passes his green eyes. Then he’s back to cool and collected.
“I can handle myself, thank you very much. I’ve been with plenty…” This time, I cut myself off.
Jesse smiles softly at me.
“Teaching your little sister how to swindle men out of dart boards, that’s a new low.”
I snort, throwing my head back. “That was hardly it. Fia needs to toughen up—I’m teaching her not to let the world screw her over. How to get what she wants. Fair and square.”
Jesse’s eyes drop to my mouth. His voice lowers when he asks, “You really don’t trust people, do you?”
My stomach steels. What is his problem?! Intervening where he has no right and asking questions like he’s my therapist.
“I trust people,” I lie straight through my teeth.
“But you don’t trust me, princess.”
The nickname slices me open, and suddenly, I’m not here.
I’m eighteen, messy hair and cheap sandals, salt air licking my skin. Jesse’s arms are not full of ink, and I can feel the worn cotton of his heavy metal band T-shirt.
Back when I trusted him with the world.
Maybe a tiny sliver of me still does, but I silence that part. It’s not safe.
“You gave me a lot of reasons not to.” I blink, looking away. The bar blurs and sharpens again. Then his hand is under the high-top, fingers brushing against mine.
I don’t pull away when he touches my hand, so lightly, but it feels like fire on my skin.
“I want to fix that.”
I can’t look at him, I can’t talk about this right now.
He gets closer, so close I can smell his cologne, our faces inches from each other as the music grows louder. “Pen, you here with me?”
“I don’t know…I don’t know where I am these days,” I whisper back, too tipsy to filter my words.
Jesse’s jaw tightens, and before I know it, his fingers thread tightly through mine like they remember how.
Like they never forgot.
“You’re here, and you’re safe,” he says firmly, and for a moment, I believe it.
But then Fia returns, cheeks pink and smiles wide. “Well? Let’s play. You earned it.”
I let go of Jesse’s hand before she can see it. I need to breathe.
“I’ll grab our last round,” I say quickly.
“Nothing for me, I’m driving home,” Jesse adds.
I nod, turning toward the bar, choking back tears.