Chapter 22
HAZEL
I’m in my bedroom second-guessing all my life choices and wondering how I ended up here in these strappy red stilettos and glittery sexy outfit. What on earth was I thinking, buying this? I look like a child playing dress-up.
Glancing in my full-length mirror, I make sure my backside is fully covered for the millionth time.
My legs are freshly shaved, and I applied a shimmery lotion all over my body that makes my skin glow.
I swept my thick curls into a messy updo with a few curls pulled loose around my face and put in some simple gold hoop earrings.
My toenails are painted a red that matches my outfit and my lip gloss.
I feel sexy, but I also don’t feel like myself.
I haven’t seen Penn in over a week, and my hands are shaking with nerves. It’s his birthday today, and he didn’t ask me to hang out, so he obviously didn’t want to spend it with me. He didn’t stop by when he got home from the airport last night, either.
The vibrations of the music upstairs are pulsing through the ceiling, so I know the party has started without me, but instead of being up there with everyone I’m still in my apartment wondering if I should even go to this party.
If our attraction was all in my head. If I hyped it up while he was gone, and when he arrives at his surprise party, he won’t even notice if I’m there or not.
And when he sees me in this ridiculous skirt, what if his expression seems bored and uninterested—or worse, he’ll think it’s funny? My self-esteem would never recover.
I inhale a shaky breath as a soft knock echoes against my bedroom door. My spine straightens. “I’m busy, Chadwick.”
He’s been on the living room sofa all day playing video games and knocking on my bedroom door every half hour to ask what I’m doing.
“It’s not Chadwick,” a deep voice filters through the closed door and wraps around me like a warm, fluffy blanket. A smile instantly tugs on my lips, and I cross the room and open the door, momentarily forgetting my existential crisis about my clothes.
Penn stands outside my bedroom, hands in his jean pockets, black long sleeve tee hugging his muscular frame, and a smirk lifting his full mouth. My heart stutters inside my chest.
“Penn, hey.” I smile. “Happy birthday.”
His eyes widen as they slowly drop down my body, lingering on my exposed stomach and then my thighs. Oh right, I’m wearing next to nothing, now I remember.
“Whoa, Bubbles. Damn.” He whistles, removing his hands from his pockets and running one palm down his face. “I’m…wow.”
I cross my arms, trying to look sassy instead of self-conscious, but probably failing. “This might be the first time I’ve ever seen you at a loss for words, Playboy.”
“You look incredible,” he says, still looking at my stomach. There’s a heat in his blue gaze that has my heart picking up speed.
“Well, I had to dress up for my man’s birthday party,” I joke, attempting a smile.
He finally looks up at my face, and his expression can only be described as dumbfounded.
“Best. Birthday. Ever.”
I laugh at the goofy look on his face, all my worries melting away now that I’m back in his warm, steady, presence. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Go where?” he teases.
I shake my head, unable to hide my smile.
Penn snakes a hand around my waist, his fingers sliding against the sliver of bare skin there. His hand is warm and rough and has the hair on the back of my neck standing at attention.
We pass through the living room, and Chadwick is at the kitchen sink washing his dishes—that’s a first. He never did bring up the dishes we stacked in his bed last week…but maybe he actually learned something. He does a double take when he sees me.
“Hazel, what are you wearing?” A mug slips from Chadwick’s soapy hands and clangs against the sink. “You cannot wear that in public.”
Penn’s hand tightens on my waist. “She’s a grown adult and can wear whatever the hell she wants to.” He leans in and kisses my temple. “Besides, it’s my birthday, and I like that she dressed up for me.”
Oh, he’s really laying it on thick. I roll my lips together to keep from laughing.
“Don’t wait up,” I call to Chadwick over my shoulder as Penn leads me out the front door.
As soon as the door closes behind us, we both start snickering. “You should’ve seen the way his jaw dropped when you said that.”
I shrug. “Honestly, I don’t really care. Let’s forget about Chadwick and just have fun celebrating your birthday tonight, okay?”
Penn holds my gaze. “Sounds good.”
We ride the elevator upstairs and walk into the loft, which is bustling with music, dancing, and laughter. Ally, Noah, and Fisher spot us and make their way over.
“There you guys are!” Fisher has two of the maple syrup cocktails in his hands. “Here’s your signature drink, the Canadian Stallion. Courtesy of Hazel.”
Penn takes it and lifts it to his mouth for a drink. When he pulls it away his tongue dips out to lick his bottom lip, and my mind drifts to what it would be like to kiss him, like really kiss him. Not a quick smooch for the cameras but slow and decadent, tasting and savoring…
“Mmm,” he hums. “This is damn good.”
Fisher hands me the other drink, and I take a sip. It’s dangerously delicious, the kind of drink that would have you drunk and dancing on a table before you could say O Canada.
Penn downs the rest of his cocktail, and I follow suit, because I honestly need some liquid courage to get through a party wearing this outfit.
Fisher must’ve made the drinks strong, because I’m already feeling relaxed after only one.
Which is good, because I want to enjoy my evening with Penn and leave all my worries and responsibilities for tomorrow—for once.
Penn rests his hand on my waist again, giving my side a squeeze, then he takes me around, introducing me to everyone like we’re really together.
I remember most of his teammates from the day they volunteered at Safe Harbor, but I get to meet some of their wives and girlfriends. They’re all really sweet and friendly.
Penn eventually excuses himself to get some poutine and I grab another cocktail from the bar that Fisher is manning. Ally sidles up beside me with a big smile. She squeals and grabs my arm. “You look even more amazing in this getup than I remember! What was Penn’s reaction?”
Heat spreads through my core and up to my face when I think back to the way he looked at me. “Oh, um…I think he likes it.”
Ally rolls her eyes. “You’re not going to give me any juicy details, are you?”
Before I can answer, Fisher hands me my drink, and I immediately chug it to avoid talking about this anymore.
Penn comes up behind me, wrapping a strong arm around my waist and pressing his hand to my bare stomach and resting the other on my hip. His thumb moves up and down on my torso. “Want to dance?”
I can’t see him, but I can feel his warm breath against my ear. I nod, my second drink kicking in so I’m feeling loosey-goosey—the only way anyone could get me to dance in public.
Penn sweeps me out onto the makeshift dance floor in their living room and the speakers begin to play “Naughty Girl” by Beyonce.
The small area for dancing is packed, so when Penn spins me in his arms to face him, our bodies are practically smashed together.
He sways his hips to the music, keeping one big, inked hand on my hip as he guides the other behind his head in a sexy dance move.
His body moves to the music effortlessly, and he’s smiling, clearly relaxed.
But despite the alcohol, I suddenly lose some of my cocktail-induced-confidence.
I’m hyperaware of his eyes on me and nervous tension keeps me from moving.
“Don’t overthink it, just move to the music,” Penn says, leaning in so I can hear him over the song.
As much as I want to just switch my mind off and let loose, I’m frozen. At this rate, I’m going to ruin his fun and go down in history as the lamest fake girlfriend ever.
But Penn just smiles at me, understanding flashing in his eyes instead of judgment. He moves behind me again and grips my hips in his big hands. “Like this,” he whispers against my ear, gently swaying my hips from side to side in beat with the music.
I smile, relaxing against his strong body, and after a few seconds, my hips move on their own, and his hands slide up to hold my waist. We move and sway together, and Penn laughs, which helps me relax more.
If he’s laughing and having fun, I must not be that bad of a dancer?
I ease into the moves, my hands going up in the air as I dance.
Penn’s hands leave my waist, and I instantly miss the warmth of his skin, but then they glide up my arms, his fingers twining with mine.
He moves my hands until they’re in his hair, and I allow my fingers to move through his thick curls, loving how the softness of his hair pairs with the hard muscle of his body.
His hands leave mine then, slide down my body until he rests them on my waist again.
I’ve never danced like this with someone before, it feels intimate, like a precursor to something…more. I’m intoxicated by Penn and his touch, with the way he moves against me.
We dance through multiple songs, and I can’t believe how much I’m enjoying myself.
Penn never making me feel like a bad dancer, just helping me relax until I’m having fun.
Eventually, the rest of his roommates join us on the dance floor.
Noah dips Ally and kisses her, and Fisher does some kind of breakdancing on the hardwood floor that looks painful, but he smiles through it.
Penn’s face has a sheen of sweat from dancing, and I’m sure mine does, too. I smile up at him as another song comes to an end.
Fisher raises his arms in the air as soon as the music fades and yells. “SHOTS!”
Penn’s head falls back in laughter as everyone in the room starts chanting shots, shots, shots.
“You up for shots, Bubbles?” Penn asks, pulling me against him.
Being with him feels so easy, so natural. And that’s a terrifying realization when this is supposed to be fake. But it feels so good to be in his arms, I can’t bring myself to pull away.
Fisher eyes us with a twinkle in his eye, then waves his arms in the air. “Actually, it’s my buddy’s birthday…so BODY SHOT!”
The room switches their chanting from shots to body shot…then I realize everyone is looking at me.
Penn arches an eyebrow like he’s daring me to accept. When I don’t say anything, he bends and picks me up, one hand under my knees and the other behind my back. I laugh in surprise and loop my arms around his neck for security.
“You okay with this?” He asks, walking me toward the large island in the kitchen.
Maybe it’s the alcohol—that would be easy to blame—but I’ve only had two drinks, both of them over an hour ago, and I’m not even tipsy…
so I think it’s simply the man smiling at me who has me nodding in agreement.
Penn’s eyes flare with renewed heat as he carefully lays me on top of the bar.
The room is still cheering and laughing, everyone surrounding us as the cool marble hits my skin.
It feels nice since I’m hot and sweaty from dancing.
Fisher hands a bottle of tequila to Penn along with a slice of lime and Noah rests a shaker of margarita salt on the counter.
Penn’s eyes find mine as he raises the tequila over my stomach.
He smirks as he pours the cool liquid into my belly button, and I intake a sharp breath at the sensation.
Penn searches my face like he’s waiting for me to say no, but I don’t, so he leans down and his hot mouth sucks the shot from my stomach.
His tongue slides against my bare skin and a gasp escapes my mouth.
He straightens and licks the salt off the back of his hand and sucks on the slice of lime.
Penn moves up toward my head before he leans down and places a swift kiss on my lips.
He tastes like salt and lime and seduction.
The room erupts in cheers of happy birthday.
Penn holds out his arm, and I grab hold of him to help me up until I’m sitting on the edge of the bar, still dazed from having his mouth on my skin. Penn’s gaze doesn’t leave mine as Fisher pours shots of tequila for everyone else in the room.
The blues of Penn’s irises seems somehow darker and more dangerous right now, and I have a feeling the desire in my own eyes match his.
Without a word, Penn scoops me off the counter and walks us toward the hallway. I don't know where he’s taking me, and I can’t muster the energy to care. All I know is I want to be wherever he is…and it has nothing to do with him being my fake anything.