He eyes them for a moment, turning them over in his hand as he places the bag on his side table. “You made these for me?” He lifts his head, his gaze landing on mine.
I nod.
His hand caresses my cheek as his forehead drops to mine. He sighs. “Thank you. I love them.”
“I won’t be offended if you don’t want to wear them. I know they’re not the most manly?—”
He shushes me with a hard kiss. “They’re great. You’re insanely talented, Olivia.”
I smile sheepishly. “Thank you.”
He slides the gloves on his hands and flexes his fingers. “Perfect.” Leaning in, he kisses me again before placing his gloves on his table and grabbing the flowers off his bed. He disappears for a moment. When he comes back, they’re arranged neatly in a vase that he deposits on his dresser.
I gather the boxes of Milk Duds and set them on the table beside his bed, leaving one in my hand. I open it and drop a couple in my mouth. I never pass up Milk Duds, even if I am stuffed.
He sits down next to me, holding out hishand.
“You like Milk Duds?” I ask, surprised, placing a few into his hand.
He nods, tossing them in his mouth at once.
“I’ve never met anyone else who likes them.” I was shocked that he chose them at the movie theater that first time. “Wait, did you get them for yourself at the movies?”
He shrugs.
“You did! But you let me have them anyway. Why?”
“I’m a gentleman,” he says, elbowing me playfully.
He definitely doesn’t look like a gentleman. His tattoos, lip ring, and stormy eyes all scream ‘bad boy.’ But I’m starting to learn there’s so much more to him. In the few months I’ve known him, he’s made me feel more treasured than Chad did in two years. It’s so easy to be here with him. I could see myself falling for him. That scares the hell out of me, considering I’m supposed to be leaving soon.
Penn changes into sweats and a cut-off T-shirt, tossing me my favorite one, matching the bear. I’d secretly hoped he’d want me to stay, but I didn’t want to assume and bring my things.
I slip into the bathroom and change. When I step back into his room, he pats the spot next to him, and I climb in. He tucks me to his side. I weave my hand through the cut in his shirt, caressing his smooth chest.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask quietly, unsure if I want to know the answer.
“Your questions are up,” he teases, then says, “You can ask me anything.”
“I know you said you haven’t had many girlfriends, but have you had a lot of…”
“What?”
“Groupies?” I wince.
His stomach shakes with a silent laugh. “Christ, why do you think I have so many groupies?”
“You know what I mean. I know we’re not dating, but I just didn’t know if I should expect a groupie to pop out at one of your shows or something.”
His head turns to me, expression serious. “Olivia, I told you I don’t share. And I would never ask you to share me either. Fuck, I’m sorry if that wasn’t clear before. This thing between us, whatever you want to call it or not call it. It’s only betweenus, got it?”
A relieved breath quietly escapes my lungs at his assurance.
“It’s not that I can’t commit to one person, because I can. I have. Have I slept with women I’ve met at bars or shows? Yes. Not as many as you probably think, but there have been a few. None of them was someone I was interested in seeing again. From the moment I laid eyes on you—and I mean the moment I caught you being a voyeur,” he teases. “I was drawn to you.”
His words spread warmth through my whole body, making my heart swell.
Before I can stop myself, I ask the question that’s plagued me since that night. “What about that girl at the bar? Did you guys…?”
