She stopped her rant to wave at Abby’s retreating form. Pen hadn’t looked at me yet but I couldn’t take my eyes off her. It may have been the first time I’d ever really seen her. Her long, lean body and the delicacy of her limbs. The curve of her jaw as it swept up to disappear beneath her short, choppy hair. I wanted to trace the line with my tongue.
“Just my luck. I’ll be down there a dozen times at least.” She stopped to take a long sip of her wine, closing her eyes and groaning in delight. I watched her neck stretch as she swallowed and couldn’t suppress a groan of my own. I was in deep shit now.
Pen heard me and looked over, her face flipping from professional annoyance to personal concern like a lightbulb flicking on. “What’s wrong? Was the date that bad? You’re here earlier than I expected.”
I didn’t answer, I just looked at her.
A nervous confusion joined her concern. “Was it that good? Come on, don’t keep me in suspense.”
I’d known from the moment she sat down. The sound of her voice cleared my head and allowed my disjointed thoughts to connect. Everything became perfectly obvious.
“You’re in love with me.”
Pen froze. Not a muscle in her body, from the prefect roundness of her cheeks to the unpolished emerald of her eyes, so much as flinched. She didn’t blink. She didn’t breathe. I heard my heart pounding in my ears, but every other living thing in the world went just as still, just as silent as the two of us.
She broke the moment as I’d known she would. Pen didn’t thrive in tension and she always dispelled it with humor. The booming crack of her laughter set the world back in motion. She slapped the bar so hard it made both our glasses shake. They clinked against each other, making the delicate sound of windchimes in a light breeze. On her third bark of laughter I heard the forced, confused quality and I took a long, relieved breath. There had been a terrible moment when I’d thought I was wrong. Now I knew Charlie had been all too correct.
“Good one,” Pen said, gasping for breath when the laughter died.
She dabbed tears from her eyes with a cocktail napkin. I waited for her to put it down.
When she was silent again, I asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She stiffened again, but this time she looked wary. There was an edge to her voice when she spoke. “What are you talking about?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were in love with me?”
I slid closer and reached for her hand. She pulled it out of my reach. “Why do you keep saying that?”
“It’s true. Isn’t it?”
“Kieran…”
“Isn’t it?”
Her eyes flashed and part of my heart heard the warning. The other part smelled lavender and sandalwood and it made my mouth water. I had a sudden, visceral need to taste her skin.
“I don’t fall in love, remember? You know that about me. Where is this coming from? What about your date?”
She was trying to change the subject. Pen was so good at deflecting. I had to answer though. She needed to know I was all in. “I met them. It didn’t work out.”
“I’m sorry to hear…”
“Actually, it did work out. Just not for them and me. They’re the one who told me.”
“Told you what? How much wine have you had?”
I pushed my glass away and a dollop of liquid splashed over the rim, soaking the napkin beneath it. “I’m not drunk, Pen. I’m more clearheaded than I’ve ever been. Charlie was right. You love me. You’ve shown me in a million little ways for years, I haven’t been paying attention.”
“You’re not making any sense. You know how I work. I don’t do love.” Her words sounded sincere, but the resolve didn’t shine through her tone. “I’ve been your friend, nothing more. I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, but it’s true.”
It stung to hear her say that, but she wasn’t meeting my eye. I knew her well enough to know when she was forcing herself to lie. I reached out to touch her and this time she didn’t pull away. My hand slid over hers as it had a thousand times before but this time it felt completely new. A pulse of electricity ran from the soft, velvety skin of her hand through my fingertips and straight to my heart. I knew she felt it, too. There was no way something could be so strong without being shared. I rubbed the pad of my thumb across her knuckles, between the silver of her ring splints. A whole new world I’d never dared imagine opened up in front of me as Pen finally pulled her gaze away from our laced fingers and stared into my eyes.
“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me.”
It was a heavy request, I knew. It may have even been unfair, but I was well past caring. I needed to know. I needed her to say something. She kept quiet for a long time, looking at me and holding my hand. I watched her swallow hard. I watched her try and fail to speak twice—three times. On her fourth attempt, she looked away but not before I saw a well of sadness open in her eyes.
“Kieran, I can’t…”
She didn’t finish. I knew what I had to do. I had to be the brave one. I reached out with my free hand, the one that wasn’t holding tightly to hers, and cupped her cheek. Her face was cold, her skin flushed but touched by color only, not heat. Her face was even more beautiful to touch than to see. I leaned in close, pulling her to me as gently as my pounding heart would allow. I wanted to kiss her. I needed to kiss her. But I forced myself to wait. There were things I had to say first. I stopped my lips inches from hers and looked into those eyes that were too close to escape my gaze.
“It’s okay, Pen. I love you, too.”
The gentle, intimate moment cracked like thin ice on a river, releasing the torrent below. Pen leapt to her feet, every muscle of her body rigid, every tendon visible beneath her skin. Her eyes went from sadness to feral anger in a flash. She bared her teeth and growled her words.
“Don’t you dare…”
She hovered over me like a wild beast ready to attack, but I wasn’t afraid. She would never hurt me. She grabbed my shoulders and held me in a bruising grip.
“Never say that to me again.”
I blinked and her hands had released me. I banged down hard onto my barstool and only then realized I was off it. I had no idea if Pen had lifted me or if I’d stood on my own. A wineglass smashed on the bar beside me and I looked to see if it was mine. Both our glasses had been swept behind the bar.
When I looked back, Pen was gone. Her absence hit me like a physical blow and my vision went black for a single, gut-wrenching heartbeat. Movement caught my eye. The back door was swinging shut.
I was at the door before it had time to close.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The moment I stepped outside, the damp heat of another muggy mid-Atlantic summer night wrapped around me. I’d have loved to blame my labored breathing on the weather, but it was the heady mix of fear and excitement that weighed on my chest. I needed to find Pen. To catch up to her and make her talk to me before she could slip through my fingers, but she was nowhere to be seen.
The door led out into an alley behind the bar. The fire escape of Riveter’s neighbor loomed overhead. I turned toward the sound of traffic, but she wasn’t there. Only the flickering flash of headlights as they zipped past. She couldn’t have escaped me that way even if she’d run. Something banged against metal deeper into the alley and I whipped around. There she was, marching toward the bend created by the back of the building on the next street.
“Pen! Wait!”
Her steps didn’t slow. Her shoulders didn’t twitch. There was no way she’d missed my shout echoing off the brick walls, even with the thudding music from the many surrounding bars. I ran to catch up—not an easy task in my tight black skirt and three-inch heels. My silk blouse was loose enough to flap around me, but a fresh sheen of sweat made it stick to my skin. I was panting hard when I finally reached her side.
“Pen, please stop.”
She didn’t break her stride or look over at me. Her jaw was set in a rigid line that was both omi
nous and distractingly sexy. How had I missed that for so long? I had to skip to keep up with her. Despite my semi-regular morning runs, my fitness level was nowhere near hers. Her five hours a week in the pool gave her the long, sure stride of an athlete. If she kept this up much longer, I’d have to stop and catch my breath, and there was no way I was letting that happen.
“Can we talk, please?”
She remained stonily silent. I had to skirt around an empty dumpster and Pen turned the corner, heading into a narrower, darker section of the alley. She must’ve used this escape route before.
“I just want to know how you feel…”
“Don’t!” Pen stopped, whirling to face me, and I came to a skidding stop in front of her. She towered over me, making my skin tingle. “Please. Please don’t do this, Kieran.”
“Why not?” I asked, stepping closer. She didn’t step away. “How do you feel about me, Pen?”
Regret painted her features and her shoulders sagged. Sadness shone through every inch of her and all I wanted was to hold her until the pain was gone and her laughter came back. I wanted to be the one to bring the light back into her eyes.
She swallowed hard and I knew there was more to say. I stepped forward, reaching out to lay my fingertips on her arm. “You still haven’t said you don’t love me.”
Her silence persisted, but it spoke volumes. I reached up, running a hand across her shoulder and looping it around the back of her neck. She didn’t stop me or shy away from my touch. I pushed up onto my toes and pulled her down to me. When our lips touched, our bodies were drawn together like metal shavings to a magnet. All the loose pieces came flying together of their own accord.
Pen’s lips were as soft as her skin, but as the kiss lengthened, her touch was firmer, more deliberate. Her tongue split my lips and crashed into my mouth. I met her with the groan I’d been holding back all night and clawed her closer to me. She kissed me like a wild beast, desperate and hungry, and I kissed her back like prey begging to be devoured. Pen wrapped an arm around my waist and dragged me to her. The press of her flesh to mine was intoxicating. I ached for more.
Without breaking the kiss, I pulled Pen back against the brick wall behind me. There was a shallow alcove into which I tucked our bodies, but I would have knelt in the middle of the street on my knees to beg for her body. My hands flew to her belt the moment I felt the ragged press of brick against my back. She tore my shirt free of my skirt, her hands diving beneath the fabric. Her splayed fingers slid across my stomach, my sides, my back. My whole body hummed beneath her touch. I wanted her to memorize my form with her hands.
My need made my hands unsteady, but I had her pants open soon enough. I raked my fingers across her stomach, teasing the waistband of her boxer briefs, but she caught my hand and broke the kiss.
“Kieran, are you…”
“Please, Pen.” I couldn’t stand to hear her try stopping me. Not now. Not when I knew the utter delight of her touch on my skin. “I want you. I need you. Please?”
She was on me again in a flash and with a passion she had not yet shown. Had I known the effect my begging would have on her, I would have led with that. I’d been directing the encounter before, but the lead was firmly in Pen’s hands now. Everything was in her hands. They moved across me, exploring every inch of me. She cupped my breasts through the lace of my bra and it took everything in me not to shout prayers into the night sky. Her thumb teased my nipples into hard peaks. Her touch firm and teasing, eliciting sensations my body had needed for so long. All thought of touching her vanished as my mind went blissfully blank.
Kissing Penelope had quickly become my favorite activity. There was a fire in her mouth I longed to quench or be consumed by, either would have been fine by me. Like her hands, her tongue was gentle and insistent. I wrapped both hands around her neck and raked my nails through the short hair at the back of her head. As she surged forward at the touch, I slipped my thigh between her legs, pressing against her heat.
Without warning, Pen grabbed the hem of my skirt and wrenched it up, clearing her path to my core. She pressed herself against me and I rocked into her, swallowing her groans as she rode me. Her hand slid beneath my panties and then it was me groaning unabashedly. Fire from the touch of her skin and ice from the still-cool metal of her ring splints raked across the most intimate reaches of my body, numbing and burning me. She plunged inside me, fearless and frantic, hovering on the edge of control. I clutched at her with clawed hands and bared teeth, needing to feel and taste her all at once. I did my best to keep up with her relentless pace, but it was all I could do to keep myself in this perfect, burning moment. Never before had I found myself in the sway of someone so passionate, so intense. My heart wanted to stay here with her, to match her pace and bring her with me, but my body was already flying apart.
I couldn’t hold in this scream. I threw my head back and roared into the dark night. I heard Pen’s answering shout and felt her body lock and shake against mine, but I was already ascending again and I had to hold on to her strong shoulders to keep myself from falling.
It was all a blur after that. I was still floating through bliss when she pulled my skirt back down and straightened my blouse. Her fingertips touched my forehead, brushing the sweat-soaked bangs behind my ear. My eyes were still hazy, but I felt the press of her lips on my forehead. She may have said something to me, but I couldn’t make out the mumbled words over the pound of blood in my ears.
When I reached for Pen, she was gone.
Chapter Thirty
I woke up ridiculously early the next morning. I’d been too keyed up to sleep well. Pen had left my body satisfied as it hadn’t been in years, but rather than curbing my hunger, that first taste only made my cravings stronger. I wanted my hands on her again. I wanted her hands on me again. I wanted the taste of her mouth and the scent of her skin.
Most of all, I wanted Pen to return my messages.
I wasn’t proud to admit how many there’d been. She hadn’t answered any of them, of course. I didn’t dare try a phone call. That had even less chance of success and even more chance of earning her anger. Still, she eventually had to acknowledge what we’d shared.
Didn’t she?
I gave up on sleep at four o’clock and pushed myself out of bed. I checked my phone again for messages, and, finding none, dressed for a run. I took a long, winding course through my neighborhood and lost myself in the monotony of my footfalls. No one was awake at that hour and the sun wouldn’t be up for a long time. Even the longer days of summer weren’t that long.
I chose a playlist heavy on Tegan and Sara and managed to steer my mind away from Pen until a few choice songs from Heartthrob came on. I skipped “Closer” a few seconds too late. I was already dreaming of how to get Pen underneath me again.
By the time I turned my run and headed back home, the sun was shooting pink and coral through the morning sky and I was at peace. I knew Pen wouldn’t text me back today. She would keep to herself and avoid me, but she would be thinking. Pen was always thinking. That’s why I knew everything would be okay.
It took the rest of my run to figure out why I wasn’t panicking, but my head finally caught up to my heart. Pen knew how I felt. I knew from the gentle way she’d kissed my forehead that she knew how she felt, too. Pen acted like she didn’t care about anyone, but the truth was that she cared about everyone. She made room for so many people in her heart and then pretended she didn’t. Even though she’d never admit it, I had proof. Starting the day I lost my parents and ending with how she treated all her hookups. Most people who played the field like Pen would see her dates as disposable, but not her. She might complain about having to be friends with Marlene and her new girlfriend, but I knew she was happy for them. It was all there in the way she rolled her eyes when we talked about them. Despite her disclaimer, none of her hookups ever seemed to resent her. Hadn’t I seen one greet her warmly when their paths crossed? She’d even encouraged me to be with Pen, too.
I spent my shower ruminating on how amazing Pen was. I smiled each time I dredged up a new memory of her kindness, both to me and to strangers. Even keeping all her friends separate was a form of kindness. We were each her entire focus when we were with her. We were special.
She needed time to come to terms with this unexpected change in her life. I could give her time. I’d waited my entire life for a love like this—a love with my best friend that was as all-consuming as it was safe. I could give Pen the time she needed to see the miracle of it.
Dressing for work was more fun than usual. Even though Pen would avoid me today, it wouldn’t hurt to prepare for any accidental sightings. I slid into her favorite dress of mine, a wrap-around knee length number in cobalt blue with a neckline that plunged just enough to be flirty while covering all the key areas. Despite the peek of cleavage, it left a good deal to the imagination. Pen had a wonderful imagination. While she loved heels on women, she hated them to be too high. A tall heel looked like torture to her and she couldn’t stand a woman torturing herself for beauty. I picked a pair that was tall enough to be evocative without being uncomfortable. One day I’d convince her that some women loved wearing high heels and I was one of them.
My stomach was still too fluttery for breakfast, so I packed a yogurt and headed to work early. Sure, there was a little skip in my step. Today was the start of something brand new.
I was locking my front door when I thought of Pen’s disclaimer.
I’m not going to fall in love with you. I’m not even going to call you tomorrow. I probably won’t remember your name. I’m not saying this to hurt you, I’m saying it to make my intentions clear. I can give you the night of your life, but I can’t give you anything more than that. If that doesn’t work for you, let’s stop this now with no one hurt.
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