Chapter 28 No Take-Backs
No Take-Backs
Penn didn’t want to make the PennPals launch party “too big a deal.” For someone so good at celebrating everyone else, he sure has a hard time shining a spotlight on himself.
But I didn’t give him a choice.
I dressed up the Madre’s event room with balloons, streamers, and branded PennPals napkins, all in the company’s signature green.
I reached out to Penn’s mom, too, asking Diane for pictures from when we were young so that I could surprise him with silly framed photos of his early business ventures. Seasonal food stand included.
I arrive with Bridget and Ryan soon after the party starts, and almost immediately, those two extroverts get swallowed up by the crowd.
The guest list kept expanding over the past few weeks.
After years of Penn supporting others, he’s receiving that same goodwill, tenfold.
Thanks to the flyers and local listings and word of mouth, his phone won’t stop ringing.
He’s already moved up conversations with Mac’s techie friend, hoping to build a simple PennPals app sooner rather than later.
Grabbing a glass of wine, I mingle, dipping in and out of conversations.
The room is packed with friends and neighbors, plus the earliest PennPals clients.
Katie’s here with Earl, who apparently used to be quite the traveler.
He’s been giving my brother plenty of tips, because Ryan’s planned a whole tour of New York restaurants for the holiday break.
Connor offered to let Ryan stay with him, and I hope he does.
I say hello to Mrs. Baker and her niece, who’s being chatted up by Theo. Tonight he’s traded his Noah and the Weekenders T-shirt for PennPals merch. He had it made himself: a branded green T-shirt, socks, and the most ridiculous bucket hat.
I’m waiting for another drink when I spot Penn entertaining a semicircle of guests, and it’s a rush, seeing him do what he does best: charming people, making them comfortable.
He wants everyone else to have a good time because he genuinely cares.
Watching him from across the room, I feel young and ridiculous and giddy, like I want to doodle his name in my notebook.
PennAndRuby4Ever
Finally, he catches my eye over a man’s shoulder, and his gaze lingers.
Penn excuses himself, still staring at me while he shifts through the crowd like he’s afraid he’ll lose me if he looks away.
He’s wearing the outfit I helped him choose after he sent thirteen mirror pictures for my review.
And he looks sharp: crisp navy pants, a gray sweater over a chambray shirt, brown leather shoes.
His hair’s grown a bit longer, and tonight it’s tamed and tousled, the scruff along his jaw freshly shaven.
My hormones are managing a level-ten crisis by the time he stands in front of me, shamelessly letting his eyes drag slowly up my body to meet mine.
“Ruby.”
I feel a pang in my chest when my name vibrates in his throat.
He swallows. “I’ve never seen you in red.”
I can’t hide my smile, and I can’t pretend looking this good was an accident.
I spent an hour on my hair and weeks scouring for the perfect dress: a red long-sleeve number that wraps over my chest with a deep V, cinches my waist, and hugs all the way to my knees.
For a long time, I avoided wearing red, believing it a bit too on the nose, considering my name.
But it suits me—I’m pretty sure Cheryl from the makeup counter at the mall would approve.
And it feels good to stand out.
Penn’s stare drops far below eye level, and when our gazes snag together again, my confidence morphs into a seductive sort of thrill.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I tell him.
“I had a little help.”
“Oh? From who?”
His tongue runs along his lower lip as he grins. Shrugs. “This girl.”
I’m aware that there are other people in this room. A lot of them. But it doesn’t feel like it. Not with Penn looking at me like that. He seems like he’s in a trance, too, until some faraway noise starts to register, a tapping, and we both snap to attention.
Penn looks past me, and I turn to where Mac stands on a chair in the center of the room, knocking his beer glass with a spoon. They must’ve checked his megaphone at the door.
“Speech,” he yells, pointing to Penn. “Speech! Speech!”
Everyone cheers and I face Penn again, my pulse still too loud, and too fast. He’s already looking at me.
“I have to go,” he rasps.
“Go,” I say, grinning. “Your fans are waiting.”
His eyes stay fixed on me. “Find me after. Okay?”
I nod, my heart lodged in my throat as he walks away.
Almost as soon as he’s gone, Bridget’s taken his place, her arm looped through mine. Next comes Ryan, who knocks into me and grins. “Hell of a party,” he tells me.
I give him a shaky smile back, still unmoored.
I’ve got a clear view of Penn as he accepts a microphone from one of the servers. He stands in the middle of the room, so handsome and confident, looking every bit himself as he tucks a hand into his pocket and grins.
“Thank you so much for being here,” he says.
“If you’ve been around Lakeville for a while, then you know this isn’t the first—or even the thirty-first—business I’ve tried to build here.
” Everyone laughs. “And you also know that I wasn’t exactly a straight-A student, or even a hard worker.
Unless you count pumping a keg as hard work.
” He pauses, his smile fading into a thoughtful expression.
“For a long time, I thought maybe I didn’t have much to offer, except for that—trying to give people a good time.
But I’ve learned, fairly recently, that you’re more than what you do.
And I’ve felt, firsthand, what it’s like to have someone look out for you, for no other reason than the fact that they believe in you. ”
At last, his eyes find mine, and my heart can’t expand quickly enough to leave room for all the feelings blooming wide open in my chest.
“That’s what I want PennPals to bring to Lakeville,” he continues.
“Connection, and support. That’s what I have to offer, and what this community’s already given to me.
Along with a couple teenage misdemeanors we can discuss at the afterparty.
” He raises his glass, and everyone follows suit. “Here’s to taking care of each other.”
Ryan whoops, circling his fist in the air.
Bridget clutches her chest. “I didn’t know Penn had that in him,” she whispers.
“I did,” I say, and she smiles.
Penn doesn’t often get embarrassed, but he does when Mac and Theo lift him up on their shoulders like he’s still their star pitcher, and I desperately want to point out the chandelier hanging, like, six inches from his head, but I don’t.
I want Penn to have his moment. I want him to feel loved and celebrated for being exactly who he is.
Which is the only reason I manage to survive the next two hours.
It’s torture every time Penn brushes past me, saying nothing but everything when he catches my eye.
Even as we’re unable to continue our conversation, he finds every excuse to bring me drinks, check in with whoever I’m talking to, touch my arm, my hip, my waist.
His smug, self-satisfied stare has grown on me. It might actually be my favorite thing.
The party winds down around eleven. Theo’s ordered the final, gazillionth round of shots, Penn’s been cornered by Mac and his enthusiastic pickleball team, and Bridget’s already left with Ethan, who arrived late but won me over instantly with how he gazed at my best friend, starry-eyed, like a kid on Christmas morning.
It’s what I’ve always wanted for her: someone who sees she’s a gift.
I find Ryan sitting at a table near the water dispenser, responsibly hydrating.
“Look at you,” I say with a laugh as I drop into the chair beside him. “It’s a miracle. I’ve finally rubbed off. You’re a changed man.”
He grins. “Everybody’s going to Curly’s for an afterparty, but I’ve got early meetings tomorrow. Are you ready to get out of here?”
“Not yet. I—I have to say goodbye to Penn.”
Ryan glances at the crowded bar, then back at me. His brow furrows, and I know this is it. It’s time to tell him. Penn and I are tipping into new territory. The change I’ve been afraid to stir up is already here.
“About Penn and me,” I start, taking a breath.
Ryan presses his lips together, shaking his head. “It’s happening, isn’t it?”
I’m thrown off. “What? How did you…”
He smiles and says, “Ru, be serious. What’s the point of having a twin if you can’t know what they’re thinking?”
I laugh, mostly out of shock. Of course he could see it. Of course he knew. All this time, I’ve been carefully crafting how I might approach him about it, but I was kidding myself. Trying to control something I couldn’t.
I’ve known for a while now that I can’t hide from what I want. But knowing and doing are different things, and I’m still finding my way. I’ll get there, though. I’m trying.
“How long?” Ryan asks.
“Awhile,” I confess. “I’ve just been afraid to tell you. I didn’t want to screw anything up. I didn’t want everything to get weird because of me.”
He shrugs. “Just blame Penn, then.”
I laugh again, but as it fades, my throat tightens. “I don’t know, Ry. What if it all blows up?”
My brother looks at me, eyes alight. “What if it all works out?”
I look too good tonight to cry, so I steal Ryan’s water and take a drink, hoping that’ll calm me down. He shifts in his chair to wrap an arm around my shoulders, letting his head rest on mine. “One of these days,” he says, “you’ll have to stop worrying so much about the rest of us.”
“Okay,” I promise.
Ryan squeezes me again. “Mom will be thrilled. She’s always liked Penn better than us, anyway.”
I snort. “He’s such a suck-up.”
“The worst,” Ryan agrees.
The crowd starts to dwindle, but still, it will take my brother at least fifteen minutes to say his goodbyes, so I slip on my purple coat and maneuver past the pickleball bros to find Penn.
His smile cracks open at the sight of me. “Hey.”
“Hi.”