Page 34

34

PENNY

I can feel the anger seeping from my skin as I walk briskly down the sidewalk toward Nic and Claire’s apartment. It almost feels like I have freedom, but who the fuck knows where Collins is or how he’s watching?

I would have worn something he’d surely disapprove of just to piss him off if I wasn’t trying to avoid his attention as it is.

I’m mad.

I’ve been fuming for days over Collins snooping through my belongings to discover my goals sheet. That man is unhinged if he even thinks that’s normal.

Next up, he’ll be retrieving my latest pap smear results and digging up my third grade spelling bee rank.

I’ll put nothing past him and his intrusive tendencies. He has no boundaries—just like my brothers when it comes to their women.

But I am not Collins’s anything…

Well, other than the pesky brat who won’t allow him to bulldoze over my entire life.

Hence, why I’m going to gift him the ultimate gift for being such a giant dick—just in case he’s not sure of my true feelings over that stunt.

I’ve been running on popcorn and pineapple juice for days and can’t think straight, so I expect some fun and vibrant bad choices to be made. I’m twitchy and in need of a solid distraction.

That’s what Collins does to me. He makes me want to be bad.

I walk into the building and wave to the lobby attendant who immediately escorts me to the elevator as if I can’t possibly take the twenty steps to arrive there myself without getting lost. It honestly makes me wonder just how much my brother pays to have all these extra details.

When I get inside and hit the button for the correct floor, I send Claire a quick text that I’ll be there in a minute.

Ringing the doorbell, I wait patiently. This may be the last time I visit this place. Soon the deliriously happy couple will be moving into their newly constructed custom-built house prior to the baby arriving, and I can’t wait to see it. I’m sure Nic spared no expense to give his fiancée the forever dream home she deserves—and never had growing up.

I hear some rustling and then Claire appears in the doorway, all smiles and looking adorably pregnant.

“I need a dick cake,” I blurt out without any preamble.

“So do I…” she exaggerates all the syllables. “I’m always starving for dick cake. I’m at the horned-up phase of the pregnancy where my hooters hurt and my hoo-ha wants action.”

“Not for us to eat, but for me to send,” I clarify.

She nods eagerly. “Also, yes, please. That sounds fun too.”

It’s obvious she’s on board with this idea, without knowing any detail or who it’s for. Claire’s the ride-or-die type of friend, and slowly I’m starting to see her as more than just my future sister-in-law.

“I want a giant dick cake.”

“A colossal cock…got it.” Claire steps back to allow me to enter, welcoming me inside. “I know the best bakeries in town.”

“I have zero doubt.”

I follow her inside, and we settle on the sofa in her living room, facing each other.

“Or we can make one ourselves.”

My shoulders lift. “Whatever you think is best.”

Reaching for a notepad resting on a side table near the lamp, Claire turns back the cover and pulls the pen from the spiraled binding. “Let’s get to work.”

How is she able to maintain professionalism when I’m in a desperate state of mind to send Collins Stone a message? I still can’t believe he snooped through basically a private journal entry.

“I appreciate this, Claire.”

She holds her hands to her heart. “It is my honor that you thought of me first when you were in your time of need. You know I sent your brother a massive dick cake for being a massive dick when he messed up the good thing we had going on?”

“Oh, I know. I saw it in the fridge once when I was visiting. My eyes can never unsee.”

She laughs. “Trust me, he deserved it.”

“Oh, I bet. Punk always deserves what you choose to serve up.”

“Okay”—Claire claps her hands together—“back to business. We have a lot to discuss, but I’m going to warn you about something…”

“This sounds ominous…”

She pulls up a bent leg onto the couch cushion and gives me a smirk. “I’m in my Revenge Era, so I might enjoy this more than you.”

I’m not sure what that means, but all of her previous eras were epic. So I trust that Claire will rock this one as well.

I almost feel bad for my brother…

She is so fierce, and I admire her strength and resilience so much.

“Fair enough.”

“But be warned. If some guy did you wrong and your brothers find out, they won’t hesitate to let Collins know and rid the world of his existence. Granted, I’m not supposed to know any of these things, and technically I don’t have proof. But, let’s just say that I can read between the lines well when it comes to those possessive men.”

I swallow hard. She’s right. Well, except Collins is the one who did me wrong.

“I even vetted a few custom bake options, hoping your brother would mess up and warrant a tasty dick cake 2.0. But the man has been nearly perfect and by far the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“That is just too sweet.” I knew my brother would take a while to settle down, but I’m thrilled he has done it with Claire. They are the perfect match. Seeing them together makes me want what they have.

“Okay, let’s talk details. Realistic or cartoonish?”

I laugh. “Excuse me?”

“This is a serious question, Penny. Stop laughing. Are you looking for veins and varying colors of pink and purple, or are you wanting exaggerated hair and googly eyeballs and a mouth? Ohhh, or a chlamydia outbreak for funsies? The options are pretty endless, really. Actually, do you have a dick pic? Like a real one and not a stock image.” She does the give-me-give-me hands. “That would be very helpful.”

I suck in air through my teeth, trying to keep myself from irritating her further by giggling. I don’t think I’ve given this whole revenge gift enough thought—obviously. From the cake she once sent my brother, I know she is the right person to help me with this task. I just never thought there would be this much to consider. “Umm, cartoonish?”

“Pierced or not pierced?”

“I, ah…”

“Oh, you haven’t seen his dick yet?”

“No.” Well, I felt the impression of it and it’s intimidating as fuck. What is happening? Why am I so overwhelmed? “Okay, maybe no piercing.”

“Well, with cartoonish, anything goes. So…” Claire taps her finger along her jaw. “You could include one as like a threat?” She giggles. “That actually sounds fun—yeah?” Before I can answer, she continues, “It’s really just a personal preference.”

“Surprise me.”

Rubbing her hands together as if casting some special spell, she takes a deep breath and cracks her knuckles. “Your wish is my command. This is going to be so good.”

“What are you girls up to?” Nic says, his voice cutting through our laughter. He eyes us both suspiciously.

Claire tosses the notebook where she was writing all of the details, including cute little penis doodles, behind the couch. “Oh, nothing.” She busies herself with a bottle of pills that are on the end table, which I assume are her prenatal vitamins.

Nic intercepts her container and passes her another one from a pharmacy bag that he happens to be holding. “Take these instead.”

“Why?”

“More folic acid.”

Claire turns to me and cups a hand to her mouth as if Nic can’t hear her. “See what I’m dealing with?” She nudges her elbow toward him as if he isn’t in the room. “He knows more about how to carry a baby than I do.”

“Oh, trust me. I get it.” Punk hired Collins to shadow my every movement and not actually tell me about it. So, nothing surprises me with him.

“It’s a full-time job micromanaging his expectations.”

I spare my brother a glance, and he manages to look innocent.

Faker.

“You both done ganging up on me?”

Claire shakes her head no and stands up. “This boy”—she pokes him in the chest which gets him to smirk—“made me an online profile so he can use my account to garner fake likes and support on social media.”

“Oh yeah? What is your screen name?” I really should make popcorn for this.

“Oh, he kept it totally classy. Wait for it… Notyomomma.”

“Wow.”

“It helps me stay relevant and up-to-date with all the parenting trends,” Nic defends.

Claire gives me a look. “He needs a hobby before I make myself a fake profile just to stir up shit and red flag all his lame-ass posts.”

“You wouldn’t,” Nic says with a scoff.

“I would.”

“She would,” I agree.

He lets out a sigh. “I’ll get blocked. Those hormone-fueled admins scare me.”

Claire shakes her head at him. “You called a bunch of moms self-cannibals for eating their placentas.”

I choke on my own spit.

Yup.

Nic straightens his posture. “I said what I said.”

“It was a step too far,” Claire says, looking resigned. “Just stick to your lane, Nic Hoffman.”

He holds his hands up. “Fine, fine.”

My brother has gone from overprotective to overbearing with this pregnancy. I can tell he is worried over his girl, but he needs to lighten up some or risk Claire feeling suffocated.

I think some of his fears for his girl are also exaggerating his fears for me. He has a huge heart, and not being able to control every single situation probably eats at him.

Making sure the people he loves are protected—the way he sees fit—must give him the freedom to live his life.

Men like Collins and my brothers thrive on this control.

They need it to function.

But Collins overstepped majorly by blatantly snooping and has earned himself a custom cock cake as a consequence. He can try to cockblock my goals however he wants, but he needs to learn that there are invisible boundaries that should never be crossed.

At least it will be a tasty lesson…

I watch as Nic places his palm under Claire’s chin to guide her gaze back to his. Leaning down, he gently kisses her nose, shakes out a pill into the palm of his hand from the new Nic-approved bottle, and then rests it against her bottom lip. When she opens, he slides the little orange soft gel onto her tongue and then retrieves the oversized canteen of water he conveniently has filled.

I swear every time I see her, the water bottle gets bigger and bigger.

“Sip. More.” He sighs. “More, Claire, so your stomach lining doesn’t peel away.”

“So dramatic. Like that probably only happens to five percent of the population.”

When he is satisfied with Claire’s hydration, he turns back to me. “Penny, are you staying out of trouble?”

“Always.”

“Liar.”

“Well, I’m sure you would get a report if I was breaking any rules, am I right?”

Nic gives me a look. What’s up with all these looks being shot my way? He has to know I know about Collins’s position, and while neither of us had a discussion about it, there’s no way that I can’t know.

I guess since I haven’t run away yet, or at least haven’t been successful at my attempts, he’s happy with the outcome thus far. I’ve been known to ditch my secret guards in the past. Obviously, Collins wouldn’t have shared that I was able to sneak away and get to Limit-X without much fuss.

Standing up from the couch, I stretch my arms over my head.

“I appreciate your help, Claire.”

Her smile is warm. “I’ll text you later with the final sketch and details for your bakery delivery,” Claire says.

Nic gives me a half hug. “Can I give you a ride back to your place?”

I shake my head no. “I’ll just walk.”

“I would prefer you to be escorted back, Penny.”

“Then just message my henchman.”

His mouth opens and then quickly shuts.

“Never mind, I’ll just do it myself.” Pulling out my phone, I pretend to send a text to Collins.

I give one last wave and step into the foyer only to be confronted with my broody bodyguard.

“You scared me,” I half scream, holding my hand on my heart. “What were you doing—just waiting for me all this time?”

“Yes.”

“Why? It sounds boring.”

“It was convenient.” He looks me up and down. “You should have texted me”—he holds his hand up when he sees me about to interrupt—“ and then wait for me to get here.”

“Oh, I pretend texted you and then discovered I didn’t need to wait at all.”

Collins gives me a look .

I am fucking done with these looks.

Everyone can just stop looking at me.

Collins sighs. “Luckily I decided to wait here for you, on the off chance you were too mad at me to be reasonable.”

I let out a huff. “I’m always reasonable. I texted you, well, in theory, you brute.”

“How many days do you think you need before you stop being mad at me?”

I shrug, giving it some thought. “Probably eternity.”