Veronica blinked, surprised, and I felt ashamed.
“I told you. Crazy. Psycho. I don’t want to go psycho on Bodie. I don’t want to wig out and scare him off, but all of this is … it’s happening, and I don’t know if I can even stop it. I don’t want to stop whatever’s going on between us, but I’m scared.”
The admission spilled out of me, and the truth of it dragged my high down to the bottom of the ocean.
But Veronica reached for my hand and squeezed it. “Pen, listen, that’s Peggy talking.”
“Ugh, fucking Peggy!” I groaned.
“Exactly. She’s trying to sabotage you, but don’t let her. Fuck that bitch.”
I didn’t respond — I was too busy feeling sorry for myself — so she kept going with more determination.
“You are the toughest chick I know, and the very last thing I expect from you is to let fear stop you from doing anything. Jump out of the plane, Pen. Because Bodie isn’t Rodney — he’s not going to manipulate you or hurt you, not on purpose. Plus, you aren’t sixteen; you’re twenty-six. You’ve lived and learned, and you can do this. Bodie’s worth the risk even if you fail.”
I dropped my eyes to the table.
“You aren’t going to fail.”
I still didn’t say anything.
“Okay, how about this? Let’s come up with a … safe word of sorts. If you feel the psycho coming on, you just text me the safe word, and I’ll save you. I’ll be your shot of whiskey. I’ll be your fucking life jacket.”
I perked up a little. “Maybe that’ll work. Can I pick the safe word?”
She laughed. “Of course.”
I smiled as filthy words rolled through my head, but it didn’t feel like a Dirty Sanchez sort of a safe-word situation. “Hmm,” I hummed, thinking. Then I snapped my fingers. “Bear trap.”
Her eyebrows shifted; one went up, and one went down. “Bear trap?”
I sat up a little straighter in my seat. “Yeah, like I’m skipping through the forest, minding my own shit, and then — wham. Bear trap. Totally derailed, chew-my-own-foot-off crazy.”
Veronica chuckled. “I like it. So you just say the word, and I’ll spring the trap so you won’t have to eat off an appendage.”
I sighed, feeling relieved. “I like this plan. Plans are good.”
“Plans are great. And you know what?”
“What?” I asked hopefully.
She smiled with knowledge and understanding, and I felt a zillion times better.
“You’re going to be okay.”
And I was dumb and desperate enough to actually believe her.
#ThingsThatAreLies
Phil shook his head and pushed away from his desk. “I can’t fucking figure this out, man.”
I rubbed my bleary eyes with the pads of my fingers and rolled over so I could see his monitor, scanning the code, looking for errors.
“Here.” I tapped the screen. “You divided by zero, and it’s terminating.”
Phil groaned. “I’m so tired. We can’t keep going on like this.”
I nodded. “Look, we’ll get caught up tonight if we can keep our shit together. And tomorrow, you can sleep all day.”
Angie appeared behind him with a plate of brownies, her big brown eyes shining. “Sounds like it’s time for a break.”
“Oh, sweet,” Jude said, leaning over to swipe one. “Man, I’m starving,” he said with his mouth full.
“Maybe we could order another pizza,” Phil offered.
I glanced around at our desks — a graveyard of plates, coffee cups, napkins, and empty cans of Red Bull. “We had pizza yesterday.”
“And the day before,” Jude added.
Angie lit up. “Let me make you guys dinner.”
Phil rested a hand on her hip. “You don’t have to do that, babe.”
She shrugged and smiled. “Oh, I don’t mind. I’ll make something easy. How does spaghetti sound? I’ll run down and grab a salad and some French bread too, and make it extra fancy with sausage instead of beef.”
My mouth watered at the thought. “So much better than pizza. You’re an angel, Angie.”
She blushed and waved a hand, giggling; the sound was like tinkling bells. All three of us smiled back at her.
Jude jerked a chin at Phil. “You picked a good one, Philly.”
Phil just smiled.
I ran a hand over my face as I yawned, hoping I could stay up for another eight to twelve hours so we could get back on schedule. We were less than a week from the meeting, and the demo was so close to being ready. We just needed to spend the next week spit-shining it and working out the kinks.
And honestly, Jude had the most work cut out for him, getting the graphics where we wanted them. Because graphics would be the first thing that would sell it. Then story, then usability. And we were ambitious enough to want all three to be of such quality, there would be no way they could tell us no.
My phone rang from my desk, and I picked it up, smiling at a photo of Penny and me, a selfie we had taken at the wedding.
I hadn’t seen her since I burned her pancakes two days before. And I hated the eight to twelve hours that stood between us.
I answered and sat back in my chair. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” she said on a laugh. “How’s it going in the cave?”
“None of us have showered in days, we’ve had pizza for the last three meals, including breakfast, and our coffeepot has had hot to warm coffee in it for forty-eight hours straight.”
“So, productive?”
“Very. We’re almost caught up.”
“Thank God. I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” I said, warmth spreading through my chest.
Jude flapped his hands and made kissy faces at me. I turned my chair so he was behind me.
“What are you up to?” I asked.
“The usual — just working a lot, thinking about you. You know, normal stuff. Can I see you tonight?” She was nervous and hopeful and a little cagey, and it broke my heart.
“I wish I could. We’re right on the edge of the deadline, and it’ll take us until the middle of the night, I’m sure.”
“Oh. Okay. I figured, just had to ask.”
Her disappointment was almost too much — I nearly caved.
“Pen, I want to see you. Are you around tomorrow? All I need is a nap and a shower and I’ll be as hot and ready as a Little Caesars pizza.”
She laughed, the tension dissipating just a little. “Sounds good. Just let me know when you’re free.”
“How about you tell me when you’re off, and I’ll make time.”
Angie walked through the living room, digging through her purse. “Any special requests?”
I held up an empty can of Red Bull and shook it, and she nodded.
“Angie’s over?” Penny asked, something tinging her words with anxiety again. Jealousy? My brows dropped.
“Uh, yeah. She’s feeding us so we don’t overdose on caffeine and junk food.”
“Cool. That’s cool.”
I frowned. It didn’t sound like she thought it was cool. “You okay?”
“Yeah, no, for sure. I just figured you guys were all No Girls Allowed, like the The Little Rascals.” She attempted to joke, but it fell flat.
I tried to save it. “Just call me Spanky.”
She laughed, but it sounded fake, and I got up and walked to the kitchen for a modicum of privacy.
“You sure you’re okay?”
She sighed, a defeated noise and the first sign of honesty. “Yeah, I’m okay. I just really want to see you, that’s all.”
“I know. Me too. Tomorrow, okay? Anytime, you name it, and I’m all yours.”
“All right, Spanky. I expect you to hold good on the nickname though.”
“Deal. Text me later and let me know how your day is.”
“I will,” she said, and I could hear her smiling. That at least was a win. “Bye, Bodie.”
“Bye,” I echoed an
d hung up with a sigh of my own.
Penny was bugging out, and I wasn’t sure what had happened or what I could do to ease her mind.
For two days, we’d barely talked — two days after a night that changed me, changed us. And now that the brazen, unapologetic, confident woman I’d come to care for had been exposed, her insecurities and uncertainties were apparent.
I didn’t care past wanting to make it all right, make it better. Though part of me wondered if there was more to the shift in her.
I knew she cared, but maybe she didn’t trust me after all. I sensed she felt I’d penned her in, and if I couldn’t prove that I would take care of her heart, she could bust out of the fence and run for freedom. Maybe keeping her would drive her crazy. Maybe she just didn’t know what to do with herself.
I shook my head and ran my hand through my hair, which still felt too short, as I stared at my phone, imagining her somewhere in the city staring at hers too.
Angie was still in the kitchen, jotting on a piece of paper. She smiled up at me. “Jude had a list.”
I chuckled and leaned on the island. “Of course he did.”
“Everything okay?” she asked, glancing at my phone.
“Yeah. I think so at least.”
“How’s it going with Penny?”
“I can’t really tell. Things are getting a little … complicated.”
Angie raised a brow. “Oh?”
“I dunno. Maybe complicated isn’t the right word. Like, everything between us is fine, great even. But I think we’re both having feelings, and only one of us knows what to do with them.”
“Hmm. What’s going on?”
“She’s just acting cagey, uncertain.”
Angie frowned. “How come?”
I sighed and raked a hand through my hair again. “She doesn’t want commitment, and we’ve sort of outgrown the idea that it’s casual.”
“Have you guys talked about whatever feelings you’re having?”
I shook my head. “I’m afraid I’ll scare her off. She gets all in her head, and it’s like I can just see her snowballing away from me.”
“Do you know why she’s so …”
“Skittish? She dated this guy in high school, and he was horrible to her. He was fucking half the school and somehow kept it a secret from her until they broke up. Not only that, but he had her so under his thumb, and I don’t know if she ever escaped. Asshole,” I hissed to myself, hot anger churning in my chest at the thought. “He had no idea what he had. And when she got hurt, she decided not to let herself ever get hurt again. Which meant she won’t get into anything serious.”
Angie watched me for a second. “I think you need to talk to her.”
I squirmed.
“I mean it. You know, I always say that a relationship needs three things—”
“Trust, communication, and respect?”
She smiled. “That’s right. How many of those do you have?”
“Two out of three. I think the trust and respect are there, it’s just the communication part that’s not happening.”
“I know you don’t want to lose her, but you might anyway if you keep your mouth shut. If she doesn’t know how you feel, how can she be okay? And if you don’t know how she feels, how can you be okay? You should be honest, communicate. Then it’ll be easier to make decisions on what comes next.”
“And if she tells me she doesn’t feel the same and bolts?”
Angie’s big brown eyes softened. “Well, then you’ll know you weren’t in the same place.”
I scrubbed a hand over my mouth. “I dunno, Ang. That’s not how dating works. It’s all about this game, this power struggle. And Penny doesn’t just play the game. She practically invented it. I’m an anomaly for her, and I know she cares, but I don’t know if she knows how to play it straight.”
“You don’t have to play the game, you know? You don’t have to participate. Just tell her what you want and how you feel and see if she feels the same way.”
“Maybe I will. I’ve just got to be careful.”
“I know,” she said gently. “But you’re not going to break her.”
I only wished I could have believed that were true.
It’s cool.
We’re cool.
Everything’s cool.
It was my mantra for the rest of the afternoon at work, like a goddamn record skipping in an anxiety loop in my brain. It wasn’t like I hadn’t known he was going to be busy. I had. He’d told me. I knew. I swear.
It wasn’t me. He just had work to do, that was all. Which meant nothing was wrong and everything was cool and fine and perfect.
My guts twisted up at the lie.
The last two days had been nothing like the two days before the wedding. Those days had been busy with wedding stuff and happy lovey-dovey feelings about Bodie. And then, shit had to go and get all serious.
My mood had vacillated a thousand times in forty-eight hours, going from perfectly content to doomsday in a five-minute span. We’d texted and talked a few times, but he was working, and I was trying to respect that. It was just that my psycho brain wouldn’t comply.
I tried to visualize the wedding. I thought about the sweetness of Bodie’s arms around me, his lips against mine. Pictured him holding my face in my kitchen, telling me it was okay.
Of course, then I thought about what he was doing. I mean, Angie was over there, but I wasn’t allowed to be. I told myself that I’d be a distraction, but then I thought maybe he could use a break. He’d been working so hard, and I missed him. I considered swinging by with donuts or ice cream or some offering. I imagined him being so happy to see me, imagined him ditching work for a bit for kissing and laughing and talking, just so we could be in each other’s arms for a minute, so I could hold onto the feeling of him, to reassure myself that things were fine.
I could just stop by for a minute or two or whatever — I had an hour before my next job — and I smiled to myself, grabbing my bag and blowing out of the shop without a word to anyone, daydreaming about him being so happy to see me that he’d kiss me and ask me to stay.
I wanted to see him. I could make it happen. I would make it happen.
Even though he doesn’t want you to come over.
I nearly skidded to a stop on the sidewalk at the thought.
Fucking Peggy.
With a smile that would make the Grinch cringe, she told me that he didn’t want me there, that he didn’t want to see me. He wanted me to wait until tomorrow because he didn’t care to see me, or maybe he wanted to dump me. Either that or he was seeing someone else. Or just didn’t really like me all that much. He wanted my body, wanted my flesh, not my heart, not my soul.
I took a deep breath as cold panic set in. In the span of five minutes, I’d disregarded what he needed, what he’d asked of me, for my own wants and needs. I’d pushed up against that line, and the shock of the realization hit me with a jolt.
This was everything I’d been trying to avoid, everything I didn’t want.
I’d broken the three-date rule for what had become my favorite dick in the whole world, and this was the price I’d pay. I’d turn into a hot, steaming mess and ruin everything, self-destruct, sabotage my happiness, burn it all down.
But it was too late to go back. The floodgates were open, and the current was too strong to close them again.
Although maybe, just maybe, there was a way to slow things down.
The curse of him giving me what I wanted was that he still wasn’t being honest with me. I had no idea how he really felt, and that fact had me betraying myself and his wishes too. So I’d take a little space to buy a little perspective. It was time to take back an iota of control over myself — the helplessness I felt was overwhelming. It wasn’t fun anymore. It wasn’t good and happy and easy. It was sticky like flypaper, and I was stuck in it, trapped, immobilized.
I couldn’t deny I cared about Bodie. But maybe, if I took a minute to get myself right, I could come back to
him fresh and ready and happy again.
Peggy whispered that I’d never go back because I was afraid. So I kicked her down the stairs and shut the cellar door. And then I picked up my phone, pulled up my messages, and texted Veronica two words.
BEAR TRAP.
Savage
The worst four words in the English language: Hit me up, Penny.
When she blew me off the next day, I told myself she was just busy.
When she didn’t call me for two days after that, I realized we had a much bigger problem.
My texts had been answered with single words and emojis. My calls had been sent to voice mail, followed by a one-off text that she was working, or out with Veronica or whatever the excuse du jour was. And the result was my absolute frustration.
So I kept busy with work and tried not to think about her. Which was, frankly, impossible.
That connection I’d come to depend on had been severed, and though I wanted to believe that she was just occupied, I knew she was putting space between us, separating from me. Leaving me. And I was alone and isolated and driving myself mad at the thought of losing her.
I tried to problem-solve, picking apart every interaction since the wedding to look for clues. If I’d done something wrong, I could fix it. If there was a way to salvage what we’d had, I would find it. Because I needed her, and I wasn’t ready to walk away. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to.
A Kiss For You Page 37
