Penny threw up her hands. “You said you could cook!”
“No, I said I wasn’t abadcook. I can make pasta and tacos.”
“Well, we're going to have to expand your repertoire then.”
Brett shuffled along the main aisle next to her. “I'll make a red sauce on Wednesday—”
“Say bolognese. It sounds fancier.”
“Do we need our food to sound fancy?”
Penny glanced up, and Brett's words echoed back to him.We. Our.“I didn't mean to make it sound like . . . I know we’re just—”
“Housemates,” Penny finished for him.
“Exactly.”
They walked in silence for a moment. “Housemates can be ‘we,’ I think.”
Brett exhaled.Great.He was overthinking this. Hypersensitive. Why was he overanalyzing? Probably because he had no idea what was going on inside her head. Not that it mattered. And yet he found himself thinking about it constantly.
He hadn't imagined her tensing up when he said the word “date” in the car, and he was dying to ask her why she had looked so upset this morning. He was dying to ask her about that email, about her ex. He wanted to know not just the details, but how she felt about it.How she felt about everything.
“Alright, is that it?” Penny appraised the items in her cart.
Brett’s knuckles were turning white over the cart handle. “I just need to grab some ground beef and milk.”
“Any particular kind?”
“Cow.”
Penny’s mouth turned up. “I meant the percentage of the milk.”
“Two percent,” Brett answered without hesitation. She balked. “Anything less than that is just tinted water.”
Penny rolled her eyes. “That felt judgy, but I'll get the milk, you get the beef. Meet you at the front.”
Brett nodded and tried not to stare at her backside as she walked away. He wasn't successful, and that's when he knew this was bad. He wanted her. Nevermind they barely knew each other and she happened to be sleeping in the room two feet from his. Even if it did take him twice as long to walk at the moment, that wasn’t far enough.
Penny was adorable. She made him laugh. And if she kept wearing her hair down like that, one of these days he wasn't going to be able to keep his fingers out of it.
Penny was his housemate.She was going to be his physical therapist. And he was the lowest he'd been in two years.
He couldn't tangle his hands in her hair, in her life, in anything. No matter how badly he wanted to. Not yet, anyway. Maybe, if he could hold it together and heal, he could see where he was at the end of the summer.
He mentally added that to his timeline.
A few weeks until he could walk and drive normally.
A few weeks until he could properly work out.
A few weeks until he was back on the ice.
A few weeks until he could sort himself out and make a move on Penny.
ChapterSix
Penny settledback into her room after unloading her groceries and saying an awkward goodbye to Brett. Their trip to the grocery store had been more than entertaining, and she didn't know how to feel about the fact that she wanted to pick up her computer and go out to work next to him at the table. Would that be appropriate? Probably not helpful for her productivity since she was still thinking about him even after the door was shut.
