The word is a whisper in my mind. There's a gentle shake of my shoulder.
"Sunshine?" The word is closer now, breaking through my sleep.
My eyes fly open. I was on a mission. How dare I fall asleep!
Penn is nearly at eye-level with me, bent on a knee with his hand on my shoulder. His hair flops on his forehead in that exact way I adore, and his eyes are crinkly and cute.
"Why are you out here?" he asks.
"Trying to catch my gift giver," I say, stifling a yawn as I sit up taller. The pillow I'd propped behind my head tumbles to the ground.
"It was me," Penn says, grabbing the pillow and tossing it on the other empty chair.
"I know." I look up at him, backlit by the glow of the full moon. I've known him as Peter, but nowoh my gosh it's Penn!Look how tall he is! How big! He's a man now. He has muscles for days and veined forearms and his jaw is chiseled and he grows facial hair and his voice is deep and curls into me and he has tattoos.
Tattoos.
Daisies. For me.
My childhood best friend grew up and never forgot me. He cared so much he inked me on his skin, added me to a place with near-constant visibility.
Penn motions to the empty seat with my pillow lying on it. "Can I sit?"
"That depends," I answer. "Are you going to tell me why you left?" The question has plagued me for years, I can't help but give my truth-seeking mission another attempt.
Penn shakes his head, his gaze genuinely sad. "Sometimes, knowing things makes life worse, Daisy."
I nod, the last of my sleepiness slipping away as I tuck my knees into my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs. I'm insatiably curious still, but I understand what he's saying. Maybe whatever it was that made him leave that he won't share with me, maybe it hurt him as much as it did me.
I motion to the chair and he settles in, sitting back and crossing one ankle over the opposite knee. A very manly posture, one he never did when I knew him before.
It's new to me. All of it. All of him. Some of it's familiar because I knew him as Peter, but it mostly feels like I'm discovering Penn. Honestly, I like what I see. All of it. Every mannerism, every coy smile, every crooked grin, every dubious eyebrow lift. I like it all.
Penn gazes at me, the air thick with possibility. Anticipation. The question ofWhat's next? hangs between us.
I slice through the heaviness by saying, "Hi, Penn."
He grins impishly. "Hi, Daisy."
Thrill sweeps through me. Jubilation. "It's good to see you again."
A smile breaks onto his face. Relief. "You have no idea how it feels to see you and know you're seeingme."
"I wish you would've told me from the beginning."
"Me, too, now that I'm looking back on it." He shakes his head slowly back and forth, rubbing the pad of his thumb over his lower lip. "I almost did, that first night at Summerhill. But once I found out you were engaged, it solidified my plan to keep my identity hidden. I figured it was easier for everyone."
"It was a bonehead move."
"Hah!" He palms the back of his neck. "I haven't been called a bonehead in a long time. Probably not since you."
"I don't think I've called anybody a bonehead since you, either."
"I'm…honored."
We share a friendly smile in the muted white swath of moonlight, happiness flickering in our eyes. Old friends delighted to be reunited.
Penn reaches down beside him. "I have another gift for you."
