The Blogger and the Hunk

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The Blogger and the Hunk Page 6

by Jane Matisse


  “Well, then I’m glad Jackie is doing such a great job as your MOH,” Penelope responded dryly.

  Celeste ignored the sarcastic remark and set the box on the bed. “Try it on,” she demanded, pointing to the box.

  Penelope was about to refuse when Celeste gave her the guilt trip look with her puppy dog eyes. There was nothing she couldn’t get with that look. Penelope took the top off the box and grabbed the smooth navy material in her hands. She had to hand it to her sister; she certainly knew how to dress people up.

  “This is a bit much isn’t it?”

  “No way! It’s just enough, thank you very much. Now, you’re going to wear those red heels I know you have hiding all the way in the back of that mess of a closet. Those pumps are perfect.”

  Penelope merely sighed for the hundredth time that day. Those blasted red heels. The ones he had liked.

  “You better hurry up and get dressed. You only have a few hours before the party.”

  “Hey, well what about you? Aren’t you the one who needs to get dressed? It’s your engagement party we’re celebrating,” Penelope shot back.

  “Yeah, but at least I know how to dress and pamper myself for the occasion. You, on the other hand, would end up going to the party in sneakers and jeans with some sloppy eyeliner.” Celeste looked her up and down, noting the fuzzy socks, Chip ‘n’ Dale Chipmunk pajama pants, white T-shirt, and a messy bun that didn’t look cute at all. She sighed in disappointment. “Well, seems like I have my work cut out for me.”

  Celeste began pulling Penelope toward the bathroom. She decided to put her foot down. “Hey! Celeste, come on. I haven’t shaved my legs, don’t have any deodorant on, my breath stinks, my eyes are crusted, I look like shit really. I can dress myself, I promise,” she pleaded.

  “Oh, no you don’t. I’ll take care of you. When I’m done with you, you won’t even recognize yourself.”

  Penelope groaned. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  If there’s one thing people don’t tell you about sex, it’s this: if your first time was nothing short of amazing, you’re going to crave it again. And again. And again. It’s this need not only for the physical act of sex, but also the feeling of having someone else in your bed beside you. Once you’ve shared a bed with someone, it’s difficult going back to your own cold empty bed, alone.

  DIARY OF A WALLFLOWER: Entry 133

  Penelope took one last look in her car mirror and stepped out toward the venue. It was a simple ballroom decorated with ivory-colored tablecloths, elaborate centerpieces of daisies, sunflowers, and lime flower buds, and beautiful chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The light brightened the room beautifully, but all Penelope could think of was finding a way to turn the lights off. There was a reason she never dressed up. People always made such a big damn deal if she looked like a woman once in a while.

  “Penny, is that you?”

  Oh shit. And so it begins.

  “You look so beautiful!” Jasmine exclaimed, walking toward Penelope with Stephanie trailing behind her.

  “You’re hot! I love this,” Stephanie continued, smothering Penelope with compliments. “This wasn’t your idea was it? You look too good for you to have dressed yourself.”

  “Gee, thanks. That’s exactly what I want to hear right now,” Penelope shot back uncomfortably. “Could we just not do this right now, you guys? I’m trying not to bring any attention to myself and remain calm while I focus on walking in these damn heels.”

  Her friends looked down at the red pumps. Jasmine let out a whistle and nudged Stephanie. “Me thinks someone is feeling a bit lucky tonight.” They both giggled and looked at Penelope smugly. “Those are the same pumps you wore when you were fu—”

  “Penny! You’re finally here! Mom and Dad are mingling right now. Tita is here already with Tia Lupita, so don’t forget to say hi. Bryan’s over there talking to some of his friends. They are actually pretty cute to tell you the truth, so you should definitely go strike up a convo with one of them. I would go for the guy with the curly black hair. He’s cuter and the perfect height for you. I heard—”

  “Shh! Celeste! Stop saying things like that so damn loudly!” Penelope interrupted her sister. “You get too hyperactive. How many glasses of champagne have you had?” she asked, eyeing the glass her sister held.

  “This might be my third. It’s so sweet. I just needed a little to calm my nerves. This planning had me exhausted! Which reminds me! You can finally meet Jackie!”

  “Oh great,” Penelope deadpanned. Luckily her sister was too buzzed and distracted to notice, but she had no problem dragging her across the floor toward a large group of young women at one end of the room.

  Oh crap. This is it, Penelope. You finally get to meet the woman who took the role you should have been doing if you weren’t such a selfish person. The least you can do is thank her. No hard feelings, no remorse. A simple thank-

  Penelope slightly lost her footing and her mind muddled at the sight of the man standing in between all the hooker-looking girls. It couldn’t be. She looked from his dark blond, silky hair to the chiseled body enhanced by the clothes he was wearing to his perfectly proportionate face. Penelope froze. It was him. Not just any him. It was her one night of pure bliss. Her first kiss, her very first one-night stand.

  “Jack,” she whispered under her breath. She spun around to avoid the awkward meeting. She needed to get out of there quick. Instead of swiftly heading right out the door of the venue, she collided with a waiter holding a tray filled with champagne glasses.

  Shit.

  Everything was a blur. Glasses flew off the silver tray, crashing onto the beautiful floor, and the waiter slipped on the spilled champagne. He luckily caught his footing before he could fall flat on his back. Penelope stood still, all sound only muffled noise in the distance. Only the sound of her shallow breaths and the blood rushing through her head surrounded her, enveloping her in a suffocating embrace. She held her eyes closed tightly.

  This is all a bad dream. You are going to wake up. Wake up, Penelope. Wake up! WAKE THE FUCK UP, PENELOPE!

  “Penelope, are you okay?” Celeste slowly asked her, rubbing her arm with her warm hand.

  Penelope took one more deep breath and turned toward her sister, slowly opening her eyes. Conversation in the room was only a soft murmur, and she realized how embarrassing she must have looked with her eyes closed and her hands in fists at her sides.

  Then another voice spoke to her. “You all right? Did you hurt yourself?”

  Penelope turned her head up. Her eyes met a pair of gorgeous emerald-green ones she remembered from all those weeks ago. His face held concern.

  All trace of it disappeared and recognition began to take form.

  Oh shit. Please don’t recognize me. Please don’t say anything. Just kill me now, Lord. At least make me faint to stall this.

  “I-I’m fine th-thank you,” she murmured nervously. The look in his eyes became so intense that she couldn’t hold his gaze anymore and looked back at the ground.

  The music began playing again and the crowd surrounding them broke apart. Penelope’s mom came running through the crowd, her father close behind.

  Her mom broke the silence. “You okay, mija? You hurt yourself? You know you were never good with high heels. You should have worn your sneakers! Want some ice?” Her mom fussed, pinching her cheeks and messing what little makeup she had on.

  “Need a drink?” her father joked.

  “I think I’m good. I don’t need an extra shot of clumsy,” Penelope responded, sneaking a look Jack’s way.

  “Oh, I guess introductions are needed, right? Penny, this is Jack. Jackie, this is Penelope,” Celeste said.

  “Jackie?”

  “Penelope?”

  Penelope and Jack looked at each other, unable to fathom the apparently bad luck they had.

  “W-w-wait a minute, Celeste. He is your maid of honor?”

  “Yeah, I told
you it was him, didn’t I?”

  “No!”

  “Yes, I distinctly remember saying Jackie was my MOH,” she stubbornly explained.

  “B-but he’s a guy!”

  Celeste looked like her patience was wearing thin. “Men can be MOHs now. There was never a law that said they couldn’t be, Penny!”

  “Fair enough,” Penelope mumbled.

  “She’s your sister? Penny?” Jack exclaimed.

  Celeste looked at Jack with a confused stare. “Yes, she is.” She looked between them. “Do you guys know each other?”

  “No!” they both exclaimed quickly. Celeste looked even more confused. There was an awkward silence until Penelope broke it.

  “I’m going to go walk to the terrace. I need a little fresh air.”

  “Here, I’ll walk with you.” Jack held out his arm for Penelope to take.

  “Let me help you,” Celeste added, trying to help Penelope on the side opposite to Jack’s.

  “Actually, Celeste, mind getting your sister a glass of champagne? She might just need something to relax,” Jack offered.

  Penelope realized his excuse to get her alone and panicked. She didn’t want to be left alone with him. She didn’t even want to be in the same room as him. He was supposed to be a one-night stand, a one and only conquest for her. He’d been her ticket to a night of passion, but that was it. Nothing more.

  She was about to protest when Jack grasped her arm firmly, lowering his voice. “We need to talk.”

  Penelope squeaked in response and let him lead her out the glass doors to the garden. It was time she put her big girl panties on and faced the consequences.

  * * *

  To say Jack was surprised was an understatement. He had not expected to see Penelope again. And to have her be Celeste’s sister! He had done the unthinkable: he’d gone and accidentally slept with his best friend’s sister. He’d been Penelope’s first. She’d been a virgin when they had slept together all those weeks ago. Now with her here, Jack had mixed emotions churning within him.

  The silence was thick for a few moments before he spoke up.

  “So, I guess now would be the time to tell you that you left your black-laced panties at my place the night you stayed over,” Jack stated matter-of-factly, immediately loving the way Penelope blushed at the statement.

  “Wha— But—”

  “And I kind of want my hoodie and sweatpants back. They were my favorite to go running in,” he teased.

  The blushing increased. If Penelope got any redder she’d look like a stop sign. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make the walk of shame in the black dress I wore at the bar. I’ll give it back to you if you’d like,” Penelope responded nervously. She looked like she was about to faint and Jack was only trying to tease her.

  “Hey, hey. Just a joke. Don’t think too much of it.” He held up his hands in defense, trying to calm her down.

  Penelope seemed to visibly relax. “I just wanted to let you know that whatever happened between us is in the past. It was a great experience and all, but now it’s over. The most important thing right now is my sister’s happiness and the wedding coming up,” she replied, looking Jack in the eye.

  He was a little startled at her statement. He hadn’t known what to expect from her. Maybe a little shyness, maybe a little interest in having a repeat performance of the last time they were together. The ego he’d had a few seconds before was now deflated. Now he was unsure what to say. “Well, I’m glad that you’re okay with it then.”

  There was a moment of awkward silence again. “So... what kind of lacy underwear are you wearing tonight? I noticed you’re wearing your sexy red heels,” he said suggestively, looking down at her stilettos appreciatively.

  Penelope gasped in shock then laughed incredulously at the question. But as quick as her laugh came, it went away, a serious look taking over her features. “Look, I don’t know what you might think about me, but I just want to let you know, this whole maid of honor thing is just as it should be. I should have been the one to support my sister every step of the way—”

  “You would have probably found every way to sabotage the wedding,” Jack interrupted. “You couldn’t care less about everything concerning the celebration. Why is that?” Jack asked rhetorically. “Is it because you’re jealous?” Penelope began to scoff, but Jack kept talking. “You’re just bitter that your pretty little sister is getting married before you are. Admit it!”

  Penelope just stared at him, her lips moving like a fish out of water, unable to form words. And before he knew it, she had swung her fist toward him. Luckily for Jack’s face, he caught her fist before it even came near his eye. Both looked shocked for a moment.

  “I-I’m sor—”

  “Don’t make it worse by apologizing. If you’re going to punch someone, don’t take it back. Coward,” Jack murmured, still holding her fist in a strong grip.

  Penelope’s shock turned to embarrassment. She pulled her fist away from Jack’s grip and, to his dismay, had the decency to look mortified. “Look, we’re adults,” she stated calmly. “We can be civilized about this. I accept the fact that I haven’t been very supportive since Celeste got engaged, but you don’t know me. So, don’t start acting like you do just because you’ve been given an important role to play.”

  Jack nodded. “I agree. That said, I would very much appreciate it if you didn’t try to take a swing at me again.”

  “Deal,” Penelope responded quietly. They were suddenly silent again, and of course, Jack did what he always did best: joke.

  “So... there must be a lot of rooms in this building.”

  Penelope looked back at the venue, noticing all the windows, some with the lights reflecting through them, some not. “Yeah, I guess,” she responded, looking a little confused.

  “You don’t think we should, you know, go ahead and look for a vacant room and... you know....” Jack looked down at Penelope, lifting a single eyebrow, trying really hard to keep the creeping smirk off his face.

  It took Penelope’s expression a few seconds to go from confusion to complete shock. “Look here, Mr. High and Mighty! I don’t want you to ever bring that up again. What happened, happened and that’s it,” Penelope reprimanded, wagging her pointer finger in Jack’s direction.

  Jack let the smile take over his face. He knew they had finally come to a truce.

  Penelope took in his expression and sighed. “You were joking. Of course you were joking.”

  Jack laughed and chucked her chin, heading back inside the venue. He heard Penelope release an unladylike grunt and reluctantly follow him, her heels clicking the whole way. She never ceased to amaze him. To the outsider, she might look like a complete mouse, which she was in physical form. But when you stepped closer and you stripped off all of that distant and skittish exterior, there was definitely a spark of life inside her. It was a passion that was just clawing to be released.

  He had seen it the drunken night he’d first met her. As reluctant as he was to admit it, he hadn’t been that out of it. He’d been fully aware of his actions. There was just something he’d seen in the depths of Penelope’s eyes that caught his attention. And for some uncanny reason, whether it was her innocence or the refreshing feeling of being needed, she had sparked a bit of fire inside him as well. Once that fire started, the only thing that could extinguish it was to let it burn until all that was left were the remains of two very tired and satisfied lovers.

  Jack needed to clear his mind of the infuriating woman. She was a mouse. He was a lion. Lions ate mice. She could never keep up with him. He grabbed a champagne glass from one of the waiters’ trays and gulped the contents down.

  “Jack, where have you been hiding? I thought you’d left,” the sexy blonde from earlier seductively purred.

  Jack smirked at her, Penelope completely erased from his mind. He went along with the game. “Me? Forget you? Never!”

  “Mind going somewhere a little more private?”

  �
��By all means, yes,” Jack replied, holding his hand out to take hers.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Out of the hundreds of reasons I’ve never had a boyfriend before, this is definitely in the top three: I’m the kind of girl you look over. You know in the movies how the main girl thinks she’s plain but she really isn’t? Yeah, my life’s not like that. I really am average looking. I’m not the woman who catches the eye of any man. I’m the one they groan about when they’re stuck with me to go on a ride on group excursions. C’est la vie!

  DIARY OF A WALLFLOWER: Entry 137

  “What did he tell you? Why did he go outside with you?”

  “Did he kiss you?”

  “You guys! Relax, please! Stop drinking, it’s making you crazy,” Penelope reprimanded, getting a little flustered by the constant questions her friends were asking. Once she had gotten back inside the venue, Jasmine and Stephanie had bombarded her.

  “You know, he kind of looks familiar,” Stephanie pointed out.

  Penelope stiffened a little, and Jasmine narrowed her eyes. “Do you know something we don’t, Penny?”

  Penelope shrugged, looking away, trying not to make eye contact. Eye contact was her doom.

  Jasmine pressured her. “Penny? What’s going on?”

  There was a moment of silence that seemed to last forever. Just when her friends were about to give up, Penelope confessed. “He’s the guy from the bar.”

  “Who is?” they both asked, confused.

  “Jack.”

  “Wait, Jack, the maid of honor, is the guy from the bar? The guy you slept with?” Stephanie asked.

  Penelope nodded.

  “What! You got to sleep with him? I’m jealous!” Jasmine exclaimed. “Well, well, well, I didn’t think our very own Penny would ever grow some lady balls and take a hunk to bed!”

  “Shh! Not so loud! Come on, you guys! I don’t need my family knowing I’m a fornicator!”

 

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