37. Chapter Thirty-Seven
Percy
She’s nervous.
I can see it the second she lets me in — the composed girl, the one who reads a room like a blueprint and never once shows you her hand, and her hands are moving, tucking hair back, straightening a thing on the desk that’s already straight.
She sits on the edge of her bed and looks up at me and it’s the strangest thing to see her like this, but it levels me out.
I came in wound so tight I could barely breathe and then I see she’s scared too, and somehow that makes it possible to be in the room.
We’re both out of our depth.
I sat on the edge of my bed last night and sent the text and then couldn’t put the phone down for an hour.
I waited out the house tonight the same as always, listened for every door, so nobody would ask where I was going.
Then I walked across town half-sure I’d turn around at some point and didn’t.
I’m here against everything in me, and I don’t fully know how I got my feet to do it.
I sit down on the edge of the bed next to her, leaving a foot of space.
“You texted me first,” she says quietly. “You’ve never done that.”
My heart flips in my chest.
“Why now?”
I look at my hands, then I look over at her.
Her question lingers in the air, and I know at some point I have to answer it.
I can’t sit any longer. The question’s too big, so I’m already on my feet, taking a few steps to center myself, running a hand through my hair.
Now I’m standing in the middle of her room, needing to answer her question.
She has a right to ask. I never reach out first, and that feels like some fucked up part of our friendship.
The room is silent, but it smells like her, and the colors are warm like her.
“When you said you liked me.” My voice comes out low and rough, but I remember Ivory’s not home and I don’t have to whisper. “Last night.”
“What about it?” she asks.
Why the hell would I bring it up?
What is wrong with me?
I close my eyes, knowing I can’t take back my words.
Shit.
I force the words out quietly, “What did you mean?”
I stare at the framed picture of her on vacation that’s hanging on the wall. I stare at her smile, then glance at the clothes she’s wearing and the scenery in the background. There’s no way a girl like that would like a guy like me.
“What kind of like?” I ask.
My heart’s banging around in my ribs, telling me I’m a complete idiot for asking.
I hear the bed shift. I think she’s standing now. I keep my gaze forward, but I see her in my peripheral vision. She stands beside me, looking up. For a moment, I don’t look back at her.
“Not the way I’ve liked anyone before,” she says. “Not like how it was with Theo. That was — that was nothing.” She takes a breath. “And not like a friend.”
My heart drops, and now it’s swimming in my gut. I finally look at her. Her rosy cheeks are new, and her brown eyes are glistening.
I face her fully, turning my body. She doesn’t move back. I take a small step, and she holds her ground. The distance between us drops by half.
She’s so beautiful, it hurts. My eyes go to her mouth, and they stay there. I let them linger, and the air in the room goes thick.
I take another step closer. The closest I’ve ever been to anyone by choice. She doesn’t step back, and the closer I get, the louder everything in me gets.
I glance down at her hand at her side. I find it with mine, and her cold fingers tingle up my whole arm. I tread carefully, moving slowly. My fingers go between hers, and my heart skips a beat.
I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never done any of this.
I bring my other hand up and gently touch her face.
Her breathing changes. I stare into her eyes as she leans into it.
I run my thumb along her jaw, and she closes her eyes.
I watch her lick her lips, then her eyes open, meeting mine.
She leans in, and she’s close enough that I feel her breath on my lips. I hesitate, staring into her eyes.
She’s right there. A breath apart. I feel her waiting. I rest my forehead on hers, and her body comes closer. I feel every crevasse of her body, and my heart’s going to flatline any second now.
“Percy,” she whispers against my lips. “Kiss me.”
I don’t right away. I sit in it because it’s fucking painful yet a beautiful thing to be in this moment.
I haven’t kissed a girl before, but that doesn’t matter because I’ve never kissed Penelope Ventura before.
This girl is so out of my fucking league, so I linger in the only moment I have before everything cracks open.
If this is as good as my life will ever get, I want to be fully present for it.
No one can take this moment away from me.
I think she tiptoes because somehow she’s closer.
Her lips are basically against mine. The feeling in my chest is at full capacity, and the only thing in the world is her.
I close the distance, unable to hold back any longer.
I gently press a kiss against her lips, and she’s already kissing me back.
I don’t keep my eyes closed for this. I want to see her.
She’s watching me, too. She wraps both arms around my neck, pulling me down to meet her mouth, and I follow because there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
She uses her tongue to lick my bottom lip.
The warm wetness of it sends a shiver throughout my body.
I’m on high alert, following her lead. She uses her tongue in ways I didn’t know were possible, and I play it right back with her.
Then she sucks in my bottom lip, and I’m gone –– absolutely wrecked by how much I feel for this girl.
The feeling in my chest is heavy, so I pull back an inch for air. If eyes could talk, she’s telling me to come back. My fingers are in her hair, and then I’m right back to her because I’ve never known anything that has ever felt this right in my entire life.
A minute later, I pull back again for air. I rest my forehead against hers, and we’re both breathing hard.
“I’ve never done that,” I whisper, noticing that she’s flushed. I press my lips against her cheeks, one at a time. Then I whisper against it, “You’re my first kiss, Penelope.”
She grabs onto my wrists that are holding her face. She doesn’t tease or go big-eyed about it. Her thumbs rub the insides of my wrists. “Okay.”
That’s it. Okay.
“Are you going to stay?” she asks.
I hold her face in my hands, staring into her eyes. “I have a game tomorrow, so I can’t.”
She stares right back, still flushed. “Do you ever play?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m a bench warmer.”
She laughs at that, and my stomach drops at the smile on her face. I think I did that. I watch her cheeks rise, her eyes go smaller, and her mouth widen.
“You’re beautiful, Penelope.”
Her smile widens. “So are you, Percy.”
I drop my head and shake it.
“What?” she laughs quietly. “You are.”
I close my eyes.
“Alright,” she says. “Fine. You’re handsome.”
I lift my head and look her in the eyes.
“Better?”
I almost smile.
“You’re hot,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Is that better?”
I shake my head. “The last one was just fine.”
She pulls herself closer to me and kisses me. Then she hums, “I like kissing you.”
I kiss her again. Slower this time.
“I have to go,” I say, and I don’t move.
“Right now?”
“Yeah, sometimes the guys wake up extra early for travel days. I should get back before they see me sneaking in.”
“Okay,” she says, but she doesn’t let go of my wrists.
Neither of us moves for a while. I kiss her again because I don’t want to stop, and the fact that I can now is new to me.
The second I step out of her warm room into the hall, the cold comes back, and I want so badly to walk back in her room and never leave it.
“Text me when you’re home,” she whispers when we reach her front door.
I nod.
I go down the back way, past the mailroom, out into the cold, and I walk home with my hands in my pockets and my whole chest full of something I don’t know how to carry.
My whole life, I’ve known how to lose things. I’ve come to terms with that. I could lose something in my sleep and still be okay. What I’ve never once had in my life was something to keep.
And I’ve got one now.
A big something.
I walk the whole way back, not wanting to fuck it up.