I am so fucking screwed.
~ ~ ~
After the events of yesterday, I spent time drawing in my studio and then crashed hard. My brain is still reeling at the fact that Penny is Pen. My new neighbor. Do I keep texting her? Or do I ignore her completely? We didn’t message after our confrontation on the landing last night, and for some reason, that irks me.
I felt like I could be myself when we messaged each other, but now that she’s seen me out in the wild, she has firsthand knowledge of how different I am in person.
I’ve been called an asshole by people who don’t know me, and I can’t blame them. I’ve gotten good at shutting myemotions off around strangers because of how I was raised, and I’ve become more closed off the older I get. It wouldn’t surprise me if Penny thought I was an asshole, too because I now realize I only spoke a total of maybe ten words to her and haven’t yet apologized for being so curt at the coffee shop.
Now is as good of time as ever to send her an apology text.
Me: Good morning. I just want to say I’m sorry about yesterday. For the coffee shop and on the landing. Words kind of escape me sometimes, and I know I came off as a dick. You kind of caught me off guard, though.
Penny: Morning. I’m sorry too. For calling you a Viking…and a caveman…and large.
Me: I forgot about the caveman comment. You’re not too far off, though.
Penny: Are you always that… quiet? Or was it just for me?
Me: I’m pretty much always that quiet.
Penny: Darn. I thought I was special.
Me: Lol. Nope. You’re just one of many who get the silent treatment.
Penny: Ouch. (I’m clutching my heart). I thought I was your friend. We bonded.
Me: You were. Or are? I’m not sure.
Penny: I know you’re in the middle of opening a business and trying to get yourself settled… Why don’t we put our chats on hold? Get used to the idea that we’re neighbors. I don’t want to make this any more awkward than it already is, and I think we’re both out of our depth here. It might be best if we take some time off from each other.
Me: You’re right. It’s probably for the best.
Penny: Well, if you ever need anything, you know where to find me. I guess I’ll see you around?
Me: Yeah. I’ll see you around.
She’s right. I need to focus on opening the shop and getting myself settled in. Having some time to think about how our friendship will play out will do us some good. I’m not exactly itching at the bit to get involved with a single momanyway, even if it’s just platonic. I would never tell Penny that because I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but it’s the one hang-up of mine that won’t ever go away.
Kids and I just don’t mix.
And I won’t ever change my mind about it.
But then why did my heart instantly fall as soon as Penny suggested taking a break?
Chapter 5
Penny
It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen or heard from Declan, and to say I’m a little sad is putting it mildly. I used to look forward to our simple chats every day, and now that they’re gone, it’s like I’m constantly waiting for my phone to ping to tell me he’s texted.
I’ve kept myself busy trying not to think of him by making sure Sage and Wren are one hundred percent confident behind the counter, making drinks and using the POS system. Both girls have exceeded every expectation I had, and tomorrow is Wren’s first day opening the shop by herself.
Today, after we close the shop, we’re all going to celebrate Jordan’s last day. I went a little overboard by special ordering a caramel macchiato cake from Coastal Cravings, the shop where we get all of our pastries from, and a bunch of flowers. The whole Beach Brew staff, plus her dad and boyfriend, are coming in for the party, and I know she’s going to be totally caught off guard.
By three-thirty, everyone has shown up, and we’re waiting for Jordan to arrive. I told her I had a gift for her and wanted her to stop by at four, so we still have a few more minutes before the party starts.
My back is turned toward the door, and I’m messing with the flowers, making sure they look perfect, when the door chimes. I almost blurt out surprise, but I catch myself at the last second.
