Page 11

11

PENNY

When I get to my room, I allow the tears that I’ve been holding back most of the day to cascade down my cheeks. I needed to make some excuse about having to make a phone call so my dad wouldn’t stop me on the way to my pity party.

I don’t need an audience for this.

So I recline in bed and just cry.

And after several minutes, I feel so much better.

Today was a lot. Between meeting up with the girls at Plus None to arguing with Collins publicly at a garden meant to provide serenity, I just need one evening of calm.

Rolling over, I reach for my phone to check my messages and am shocked to find one from Collins. We just spoke not even half an hour ago.

Collins: You left your wallet in my car. I’m going to give it to your mom.

Penny: Thanks

I hate the tension between us, and yet every time I think of his sole purpose in my life, my blood starts to boil. How could he not expect the two of us to clash? We both have entirely different goals.

When I come down the stairs for dinner, wearing an oversized shirt with a giant teddy bear on the front and a pair of mismatched pajama bottoms, I’m surprised to see Collins being fawned over by my parents at the dining room table.

So much for a calm evening at home.

Like, seriously…why is he still here?

I’m mad at him.

While my anger might be displaced, I can’t help but feel trapped and confused about the whole situation. I just want to keep moving toward achieving independence. Yet, everything about Collins screams dependency.

I can’t drive.

I technically still live at home.

And the job I just accepted is located at a building that my brother owns.

How would anyone expect to actually do anything profound with these limited conditions?

My movement causes Collins to turn his head and take note that I have arrived at the table.

He better shut his mouth over my choice of attire too. I am comfortable.

But he keeps staring at me.

At least I kept my bra on, although I wouldn’t turn around and get one if I hadn’t.

“Stop it,” I whisper under my breath.

“Stop what?”

“Looking at me.”

How am I even going to be able to eat with him here? I take my seat, place my napkin on my lap, and then down my entire glass of iced water in a few gulps. My mouth is parched, and I think it has to do with how deeply I’m breathing.

“Penny, isn’t it nice that Collins can join us?” Momma asks, obviously smitten with the man. It’s a bit obnoxious.

Thanks, Momma, you traitor .

“Oh, it’s just lovely,” I say as sweetly as I can muster up, while plastering on the fakest smile I can produce.

Collins gives me the side-eye, making me want to laugh at my own jolly-good sarcasm. I shouldn’t be laughing right now. If I laugh, I’ll forget that I’m angry, and that is a feeling I want to embrace wholeheartedly.

I should be mad. I’m entitled to be mad and for as long as I want.

Dad gives me a look, and I know he senses my unease but is too polite to ever call me out on it in front of a group.

And then it dawns on me. This is yet another reason I need a place of my own. Everyone is so damn polite around me, always afraid to mess up or say the wrong thing or freak poor Penny out.

I just need my space so I can learn to assimilate myself back into society, or I might go insane. It’s not that far-fetched of a possibility either. I did spend months at a mental institute. No wonder everyone seems to walk around on eggshells around me.

Momma walks to Collins’s side of the table first—since he’s the guest—and shovels piles upon piles of pot roast onto his plate despite his soft protests that she can stop.

“Whatever you can’t eat, I’ll just wrap you up a plate. It’s no biggie. That’s what they made Tupperware for.”

Why not just let him spend the night, Momma ?

At this rate, he’ll never want to leave.

Maybe he can move in, while I move out. I stifle a giggle over the absurdity of my idea.

“Something funny?” he whispers to me, while my parents are distracted.

“Kudos to you for winning my parents over.”

His smile is bright. “I do love to win.”

My eyes glare at his. “Oh, I bet you do—except when I’m your partner for family games.”

“Oh, you’re still bitter over that?”

“You legit caused us to lose.”

“I carried our team.”

“Psst,” I hiss, sticking out my tongue.

Then he reciprocates, and I nearly fall out of my chair.

Why is he so lighthearted all of a sudden? What has changed? He’s usually so stern and rigid, hiding behind his hard exterior shell.

When it’s my turn to get served, I take a small scoop of the meat and an even smaller scoop of the mashed potatoes. I’m just not feeling very hungry at the moment, with everything that’s going on. Plus, my feet hurt horribly from the blisters I got trying to rush through the gardens at a speed I could barely maintain. I should have just parked my ass on a bench and refused to walk.

Most people think I’m stubborn anyway. I might as well rock that label while I can and embrace the shit out of it.

“Nice shirt,” Collins says softly.

I look down at the teddy bear printed on the front and then back up at my annoying bodyguard. “Are you mocking me?”

“Never. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Your mood swings are giving me whiplash,” I sneer, as Momma turns her back to put the serving bowls on the buffet table.

He places some meat into his mouth, chewing it up. “Likewise.”

I spin my fork into my potatoes, swirling them around on the plate. Stabbing some meat, I take my first bite and close my eyes over the taste. Momma is the best cook. She can make a thirty- cent pack of ramen turn out amazing. However, when she really tries—like she did today—she can make magic happen.

“This is really delicious,” Collins says to the table. “Thank you for inviting me in.”

Suck-up.

I spare a glance his way, and right as I do, he looks over at me at the same time. Quickly, I grab my phone and check through my text messages, settling in on the unknown number. Scanning through the detailed message, I see that the apartment I chose to rent can be accessed now. I just need to get the key from the lockbox near the mailboxes. Seems easy enough.

I already wired over my deposit and rent payment. Digital signing of documents makes life so much easier than having to physically go during business hours to fill out forms. I am basically all set.

Anxious to meet my roommate and get started on figuring out how to move my stuff from here to there, I decide that going there tonight to check out the location and logistics would be best. I can take pictures, measure out some of the dimensions, and brainstorm on how I want my space to look.

Being in Hillsboro, there is no taxi service that is local. If I need to hitch a ride, I have to give a lift company in Portland ample notice so the driver has a chance to get here to pick me up. So, I Google a company and fill out the form to reserve a ride in about an hour. By then, dinner will be over and I will have had a chance to throw on some normal clothes that don’t make me look like I am eight.

“So, Collins, do you have any summer plans?” Dad asks, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of his wine.

Collins clears his throat, places his napkin down onto the table, and then gives a half smile. “Just work.”

“Now, that doesn’t sound like fun at all,” Momma says with a pout. “No time off to travel and relax?”

“Actually, Mrs. Hoffman, I?—”

“I thought I warned you before to never call me such a formal title.”

“Oh, ha.”

“That is basic rule number one in this household,” Momma says, keeping her voice stern, but conveying through her eyes that she is really joking.

He dips his head. “My apologies.” He spares a glance at me, and I can’t seem to take my eyes off of his. “I recently had a break in my schedule. The time off was good, but I really like to keep busy.”

“Maybe you should find a hobby,” I interject. “You know, like take up painting or learning a musical instrument… Or leaf collecting.”

Collins’s eyes lock on mine. He knows I’m being sarcastic.

“Just don’t let Graham overwork you,” Momma says, ignoring my snarky comments.

My humor is wasted on these people.

“I won’t,” Collins says with a smile.

“Penny, do you want more salad?” Momma asks.

“No, thanks.”

It’s driving me nuts how she is allowing me to text at the table and get away with other rude behavior. Just treat me normal.

Momma gives more to Collins.

“I really hope Graham appreciates all you do.”

“Your son—actually sons —treat me very well. I’ve been very lucky to be under their employment.”

“At my expense,” I say with a grumble, but only for his ears to hear. Bored, I shoot him a text.

Penny: Suck-up.

“Well, at least relax while you are here. Think of our house in Hillsboro as a retreat. You can escape those boys of mine anytime. Heavens knows they don’t visit here often enough, so this would be the last place they would expect to find you hiding.”

Collins’s laughter causes the knot in the pit of my stomach to release. Maybe after all of this awkwardness blows over, we can eventually be in the same room as each other and it not be this intense.

I’m playing with my food when my phone lights up with an incoming text.

Collins: Your mom is hard not to like.

I type back a quick response but don’t actually send it.

What’s left to say? Momma has the gift of hospitality.

It’s not Collins’s fault he fell victim to her persistent invitation to come in for dinner.

The meal wraps up with a coconut pudding dessert that Momma made from scratch. I carry mine up to my room, forgoing the chitchatting that seems to be endless downstairs. Maybe by the time my ride arrives, Collins will have already left.

In between bites, I toss on a yellow sundress. My feet hurt so bad that the only logical thing I can wear until they heal are flip-flops. I brush out my hair and braid it down the side.

I’m not sure who will be at the apartment right now, but I want to be prepared to make a good first impression just in case.

I finish up my dish of pudding and carry it down the stairs into the kitchen, finding both my parents embracing in a hug. Even after all of these years, they still find a way to love each other.

“Hey,” I mutter, walking into the room. “Collins leave?”

“Just a minute ago,” Dad answers. He takes in my attire. “Going somewhere?”

“Remember how I told you guys that I wanted to get a place of my own? Well, I’m able to go take a look at the one place tonight. I’m too excited to wait until tomorrow.”

“Do you want us to come with you?” Momma asks. “I’ve been getting some notifications that the rain may be heavy at times. A big storm is moving into the area from the coast. I’d feel safer if one of us accompanied you. Yeah?”

“I’ll be fine.” I hate seeing her this anxious—this hopeful.

She looks up at my dad to see his reaction. “We can give you a ride.”

“My taxi should be here soon. I appreciate it, though.”

Momma nods, wrapping one arm around Dad’s back. I know she doesn’t want me to move out but respects me enough to understand my need to do so anyway.

“You’ll be extra safe?” Dad asks, trying to keep any emotion out of his tone.

“Of course. And I’ll be back tonight to sleep here, just a bit later than usual.”

“Oh, okay.” His relief pulls at my heartstrings. “You have your key?”

“Yup. Also, once I move out, you can use my room to store baby stuff until Claire gives birth. The extra space will probably be welcomed.”

“You will always have a room here, Pen,” Momma insists. “Always.”

I step closer, joining them in a group hug. “You both are amazing parents.”

After a long minute, I break the hold and use the bathroom before heading outside.

I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t miss living here. Because I will. My parents are basically the best—albeit a bit intrusive at times. I will miss the smell of fresh flowers that my momma has been nurturing and the ease of having someone to talk to at a moment’s notice. I’ll miss the comfort that home brings, but this is the right step for me. And I think deep down, they know it as well.

Fishing my phone out of my bag, I find the taxi service app. Based on the tracker, my ride should be here in about five minutes. I meander along the front porch, observing Momma’s new plant additions. Maybe when I get settled into my apartment, I can spruce it up with some greenery.

I am lost in thought when I see movement from the corner of my eye, causing my head to jerk toward it.

“Collins?” I ask, placing a hand over my heart. “I thought you left. Where’s your SUV?”

He gestures with his chin toward the end of the driveway where his vehicle is idling. From the confusion on my face, he elaborates with, “You left your hair tie in the cupholder.”

As his hand extends, and his fingers open up, I see the pink stretchy ring in his palm. I don’t even remember removing it from my wrist. My fingers brush his, as I accept the offering. His touch tickles, causing goose bumps to trail up my legs, all the way to my arms. Our eyes lock, and there’s more exchanged in the simple look than just a hair tie.

“Thank you,” I say softly. It’s as if the tie serves as some peace offering I’m not sure I should even accept.

In the distance, heat lightning flickers over the mountains. The wind is warm, and the smell of my momma’s flowers fills the air. It would be tranquil here if I wasn’t so on edge around Collins. He makes me twitchy.

“You mad at me?”

I shrug. “A little.”

Collins nods in understanding. “I’m not trying to ruin your life, Penny.”

“So you say.”

“Things will work out. You’ll see.”

I rock on the heels of my feet as a car flies past the driveway, screeches to a stop, and then backs up down the road.

Then the headlights come flickering up the lane. Based on the rev of the engine, I’m not quite sure it will even make the short trip.

Collins turns to look at the source of the light coming toward us, his eyebrows drawing in. “Who’s that?” His voice is stern, cold.

“I don’t know,” I lie. I don’t even recognize my own squeaky voice.

“Yes, you do. Tell me,” he presses, somehow knowing that the junk of a vehicle coming our way has something to do with me. Maybe he does have some sort of sixth sense.

I bite my bottom lip and brace myself. “My ride.”

His eyes bore into mine. “Your ride?”

I plaster on a smile. It’s not often I get to shock someone like Collins, and based on how his back is poker straight, I’d say I managed to do just that. I pull back my shoulders and clear my throat. “Yes, my ride.”

Collins takes in my attire, seeing that I’ve exchanged my ratty pajamas for something more sophisticated. “To where?”

Oh, and now he’s a bit snappy. “To wherever my heart desires.”

“I’ll give you a ride wherever you want to go, Penny. Can you just ask? Is it so difficult that you are unable to relinquish this desire you have inside to make everything so complicated?”

My hands prop on my hips, as I stare at him. The driver of the other vehicle passes by Collins’s idling SUV and stops in front of us.

“Who is he? Do you even know him?” When I don’t answer, he rubs along his jawline while closing his eyes. When he opens them again, I know I’m in trouble. “Please clarify if I’m wrong. You called some random person to give you a ride, and they just pulled up in a rusted tin box?”

“Maybe.”

My toes curl, making me wince when my blisters rub against the flip-flop straps. Shit. I bite at my bottom lip to suffer through the sudden pain.

“Have you lost your mind?”

His words sting, and I don’t think he has a freaking clue just how much. “No. But you have,” I bite back.

“It’s moments like these that solidify the fact that you need someone to watch out for you. Your brothers were one hundred percent correct in taking that initiative.”

I take a step toward him, placing my hand on his muscular chest from pure annoyance, as I push with all my might. “Back off.”

“You’re the one coming at me, little girl, not the other way around.”

“I’m not little.”

Oh, do I hate being referred to that way .

All my life I’ve been the baby of the family. My nose flares as I push harder. And harder. And?—

Nothing. I don’t even move this boulder of a man. Not even an inch. If anything, I’m just entertaining him.

I hear the car door open and smell the pungent scent of something more than just nicotine.

“Ya need my help, miss? Dis guy bothering you?”

In unison, Collins and I turn toward what can only be described as a walking stereotype—fresh out of a classic nineties movie. Between the sideways hat, the cigarette resting behind the ear, the stained white T-shirt, and the nasty scent of a skunk, I think there is no way in hell that Collins will ever let me get within a yard’s radius of this once-a-pizza-delivery vehicle and this teenaged hoodlum.

And I know the junk-mobile used to be for pizzas because I can see the outline of an entire pie molded into the rusty side.

The boy clears his throat again and moves his fists to be in front of his face, in a self-defense pose.

“Is this some kind of joke?” Collins asks, taking in the scene and then looking at me for a reaction. But I don’t give him one. Because what is there to do? I feel like I’m also being pranked.

“I’ve been practicing my moves,” the kid says, slicing his fists through the air. “I made it to level seven in Mortal Kombat . That totally has to count for something.”

It only takes one glance at the impromptu karate demonstration for my shoulders to quake. Then I double over, laughing so hard that I fall toward the pavement.

“Penny,” Collins calls, squatting down to brace my landing. “What the hell is going on?”

I look up into his concerned eyes. “This explains why the ride was so cheap. I mean, from Hillsboro back to the city was only like twenty bucks.”

“If you think I’m going to let you get inside the car with that crackhead, you’ve completely?—”

“Don’t touch her,” the kid yells. “I also forgot to mention that I took the junior ninja training obstacle course at the local YMCA. Don’t mess with me.” He bends his knee upward, flicking his foot forward like a broken pendulum. Losing his balance, he stumbles backward, breaking his hold and crashing into the side of his beat-up vehicle.

I just can’t stop laughing. Tears drip down my cheeks as I remain curled up in a ball on the driveway. “He’s a ninja,” I echo.

“I’m basically a badass to the first degree.”

Not fazed in the slightest, Collins helps me up. He hands me my bag that managed to spill out a bit onto the driveway. I shove items inside in a hurry, careful not to miss any of the action. And then with calculated coolness, he turns to me, leveling himself with my face. “This is not up for debate. We are going to walk down to my SUV, and you’re going to get inside without any type of argument. Understood?”

But before I have a chance to answer, Collins is already escorting me. I cringe as the kid starts to yell at him.

“I got ripped off. If you think I won’t lawyer up, then you obviously have underestimated my ability to blow through my parents’ money. I drove all this way and for what? To get cockblocked by the dude with the bigger vehicle. Classic. Just classic.”

“Please don’t get into a fight at my parents’ house. Please,” I beg, as I see Collins’s shoulders tense. I already know who would win, and it’s not the guy probably wearing cartoon boxers still.

“I can carry his body down the road first before my fist connects with his face. Would that make you feel any better?”

I look up at him, trying to evaluate whether or not he is joking. I can’t tell. I know Collins is capable of joining and winning a fight. My brothers would never hire someone who wasn’t prepared to get hit. Being wrestlers themselves, I’m sure they had a list of physical qualifications before choosing a bodyguard.

He opens the door for me, but I hesitate.

“Get inside.”

“Quit being so bossy.”

“Get in the fucking car, Princess .”

Princess.

Any other time… By any other person…

I would have cringed.

But from Collins, I like it. And secretly, I’m wishing he would say it again.

And again…

I did refer to myself with the label Princess Penelope this morning at the coffee shop.

If the tiara fits…

“I need to pay the dude, even if I don’t accept his service.”

“I got it. Just get inside and do not get out.” He eyes me sternly. “No matter how much blood you see.”

“Collins,” I snap, reaching for the door.

He shakes his head at me. “Just teasing, Pen. Now get in this damn car.”

I climb inside, strap my belt on, and toss my bag onto the floor near my feet. The door shuts, and I turn to watch Collins walk back up the driveway, joining in a conversation with the taxi driver. I hit the button for my window to roll down when things look to be sketchy.

“No fighting on my parents’ property,” I chant, causing the men to back up from each other.

Collins hands over several bills from his wallet, never taking his sight off the kid.

It isn’t until the beat-up car is barreling down the driveway that Collins makes his way to his own vehicle. I roll up the window as he gets into the driver’s side.

“Well, that was fun,” I mumble, trying to defuse the tension.

“You can’t be pulling stunts like this again.”

I whip around in my seat to glare daggers at him. “How was I supposed to know that the taxi service was a dud? Huh? Like this is somehow my fault?”

“It’s most definitely your fault.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“What are we—five?”

“You are doing everything in your power to not accept my help. So, yes, forgive me for being a tad bit heated and mad right now.”

“Mad at me?” Is he for real?

“You’ve proven to me that you one hundred percent need a keeper. And if I need to improvise and change the protocol to deal with this…” He pauses as he struggles for the right word.

“This?”

“ Situation .”

My jaw unhinges, losing control as my mouth gapes open. “I am not a situation .”

Collins looks thoughtfully out his window, and then, turning his focus back to me, lets out an awkward laugh. “You are right. You are the problem.”