Chapter 15 Ambiguous Footsie #2
“You said you don’t do anything serious.”
“I don’t,” Penn says. “Not with just anyone.”
He holds my stare, and my face heats, and the obvious follow-up question sits like a hot-pink elephant between us.
I don’t ask it, though. I don’t need to, because I already know I’m not just anyone to Penn, and he’s not for me, either.
We’ve always meant something to each other, even if what that something meant has shifted.
Our pasta arrives, a welcome distraction from the tingling in my limbs, and I’ve never been so grateful to swan-dive into a bowl of noodles.
“Penn,” I start, as we twirl our forks in tandem. “I’ve been thinking about some of your ideas. For The Disco Diner. And they’re not so bad.”
He snorts. “Stop the presses. One glass of wine and she’ll admit I’m not a total idiot.”
“I’m serious,” I say. “I want you to know how grateful I am for all your help. And I want to apologize for dismissing your ideas before. I tend to take charge of the situation when I’m having a hard time.”
“No. You?”
I give him a sardonic look, but a grin breaks through. “Please just accept my apology.”
Penn presses a napkin to his mouth. “Apology accepted,” he says. “And you know what? I think I could get used to hearing praise from you.” He waves a hand. “Let’s hear it. What else have you got for me, Wynne?”
I roll my eyes. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m choosing to hear that as a compliment.” He puts a hand to his ear. “Next?”
I can’t help but laugh. It feels good, making Penn feel good. “Okay,” I say, sitting back. “You’re very…tall.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“And you have good hair.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“And a stupidly hot French accent.”
“Vraiment?”
I grin. Then I pause, considering. “I like how unafraid you are. And how generous you are. With your time, and everything else.”
Penn stills.
The music drifts outside, soft piano chords and my words hanging in the air between us. My heart ricochets in my chest, and the loaded way he continues to look at me threatens to pull me under.
I tuck my hair behind my ears, wishing there was more of it to hide behind.
“I really appreciate all the time you’re spending with me, and I think we make a pretty great team, actually.
” A soft smile starts on his lips, encouraging me to go on.
“So, I know you’re being pulled in a lot of directions right now, and I feel guilty asking, but I’d like even more of it. ”
“More of what?”
I shrug. “Your time. You.”
The sheer pleasure in Penn’s expression makes him look like the boy I remember. Golden and glowing. Good, right down to his bones.
“You like me,” he says, a smile splashed across his face. “Like, a lot.”
“Oh, stop.”
He puts a hand to his chest. “I mean, you’re right that I don’t have a lot of time on my hands. But if you’re going to be this obsessed with me—”
I throw a breadstick at him, and he laughs. When he meets my eyes again, he says, more sincerely, “Thank you. That means a lot. All of it.”
I nod. “You’re welcome. Does that mean I can get more of your time?”
“I don’t know,” he says, taunting me. “You’re right. I don’t have much of it.”
“Well, I’ll do anything,” I say, and it sounds an awful lot like begging. But I really do need more of Penn’s time to get back to the right time. To Real Me, and Real Penn. “I mean it,” I add. “Whatever it takes to steal you for a little while, I’ll do it.”
Penn leans back, lips parted. Shocked, I think, by my resolve.
Up until a few days ago, I would’ve rather plunged into the nearest sewer than plead with Penn, in any universe, for a damn thing.
And he knows it. Even here, he knows that I’m turning myself inside out for him, and he’s loving every delicious second, soaking in the moment with one of his infuriating smirks.
“You’ll do anything, huh?” His teeth graze his lower lip, and there’s no ambiguity about what he’s thinking. “Well, then. Guess I need to brainstorm.”
“Anything but free lap dances,” I clarify. “Those still come at a cost.”
“Ah, ah, ah,” he teases. “You know the rules. No take-backs, Wynne.”
—
When we leave the restaurant, Lakeville is dark, lit only by the lanterns that line the downtown blocks. There’s a welcome chill in the air.
“First date,” Penn says, sliding me a look. “How’d I do?”
I shrug. “Ehhhhh.”
He pulls me into a headlock hug, and I cackle in surprise. He’s pulled the same move on me for years, but this time, instead of pushing him away, I wrap my arms around his middle and lean closer, letting him plant a kiss on my hairline.
After we unravel ourselves, he holds me close, facing me, his hands clasped behind my back. My fingers tangle in the curls at the nape of his neck, and as our eyes drift across each other’s faces, I must admit to myself that he was right.
I like him. Like, a lot.
“Personally, I had a great time.” Penn presses his forehead to mine. “You’re cute when you’re desperate.”
“Oh, God,” I say and groan. “Here we go.”
The smile lingers in his voice. “First, you rattle off everything you like about me, entirely unprompted—”
“I believe that was heavily prompted.”
“—and then you beg and plead with those big doe eyes for me to hang out with you?” He clicks his tongue. “This girl’s shameless.”
“And you’re the worst,” I say, still smiling. “I’m never giving you a compliment again.”
A slight smile stretches up his face, his eyes glittering right in front of me. He dips his chin, and his long lashes leave a dark shadow across his cheekbones.
“I can’t believe you said you’d do anything,” he whispers. “For more of me.”
He lifts my chin to kiss me, and I let him. Even though it won’t get me out of here. Even though I’m afraid. I kiss him back because I want to—because I can’t not.
Penn’s thumbs bracket my jaw as the kiss deepens, and my head spins over how, and when, and where, the night might end.
When we eventually pull away, he takes my hand and leads me back to his car. “I shouldn’t have said ‘anything,’ ” I tell him. “I regret that.”
“Yeah. You really cast a wide net there.”
“What about a Laser Tag rematch?” I suggest. “Or maybe I could give you half of my Bath and Body Works collection. You seemed really into that Plumeria bubble bath.”
“No. I already know what I want.”
My pulse quickens. “You do?”
He nods, then slants me a look. “Two words: Toga. Skate.”
I knock into him. “Get out of here.”
“Just imagine all the sheets billowing in the breeze,” he exclaims. “Imagine Theo wrapped in a sheet that’s probably covered in his own face.”
I can’t help but laugh at the vision. “Not happening. Because if I give you a toga night, then next thing you know, Theo will insist on Golf Pros and Tennis Hoes.”
“Well, we’re doing a theme night,” Penn insists. “So take your pick.”
“Let’s keep it easy. What about a 2000s party?”
“Depends,” he says. “If we’re going back to the 2000s, does that mean you’ll pretend you hate me all night?”
I smile up at him sweetly. “No pretending required.”
“Liar,” he whispers, eyes sparkling. “You couldn’t hate me if you tried.”
I don’t deny it.
Penn stops then, beneath the streetlight.
Gently, he pulls me toward him, leaning in for a long, slow surprise of a kiss that takes all the feeling out of my legs.
I grow dizzy as he dips to kiss my neck, his mouth hot against my skin.
“By the way,” he says, planting another kiss on my collarbone. “I think my answer is obvious.”
“What answer?” I ask, all breathy and embarrassing.
One more kiss, beneath my ear. “You can have as much of me as you want, Ruby.”
My breath hitches, and when Penn straightens, looking at me in a wide-open way he never has before, I know the terrifying truth. I want it all.