“Just tell them it was stolen. It’ll get their attention off you, which is the most important thing.”
I’m already shaking my head before he finishes the never-been-a-business-owner advice. “I can’t tell them that. It makes me sound like an irresponsible, unreliable flake, which I’m not. At the end of the day, it’s still a potential client.”
“Or a potential murderer,” Griffin deadpans.
“Har har har.”
Griffin scrubs a hand over his jaw, thinking. “Why don’t you wait? Maybe Johnny K will come through on this and we can get the ring back?”
I can’t help but grin. “Look who’s the optimist now? You’re downright Hopeful Harry over there.” But it does sound like a good idea, probably because it’s delaying an inevitably uncomfortable conversation with the potential client-slash-murderer. I put my phone down and risk poking the bear, which is probably stupid, but I want to do it anyway. After all, I’ve never been accused of playing it safe, so why start now? “Now that that’s figured out, are we going to talk about the second kiss?”
A devilish smile lifts his lips so high that I see a rare flash of white teeth, or at least a rare happy flash. Normally he only bares his teeth like a predator ready to rip into a victim. “You mean when you kissed me?” He arches one brow, the arrogance he normally possesses rushing back into his entire aura. “And tried to hang on to my neck like a monkey so you could wrap your legs around me?”
My jaw drops open and I make a huffing sound ofnuh-uh, but he’s not exactly wrong. I’m just not ready to admit that maybe he’s right. “I meant the one where you pushed me up against the wall and I couldfeel your dick digging into my stomach and your hand on my throat made me want to do wicked, nasty, dirty things.”
“Fuck, Penny. Don’t talk like that around me,” he hisses, shifting his hips and making me feel victorious in our never-ending war of words. Then he waves his hand. “Scratch that, don’t talk like that at all. It’s dangerous.”
“I’ll talk however I want to. About all the sexy, naughty things I like or might like if I had the chance to try them,” I argue, realizing something revolutionary. At this moment, Griffin wants me. Drawing a tally mark in the air, I inform him, “Hand necklace, two thumbs up, ten out of ten, would do again. Think there’s a place on Yelp to write that review?”
“Jesus,” he hisses again. This time, I think it’s a prayer. But for what? Salvation? Forgiveness? It hits me like a ton of bricks. It is forgiveness. He doesn’t think hiding the whole situation with the guys at Yesteryear is something to apologize for, but kissing me, the little sister of his best friend? Yeah, that’s against bro code, which is something Dom and Griffin take seriously. It’s something all the Hawks take seriously.
My teasing mood vanishes, and more seriously, I say, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Dom. He’ll never know. I promise.”
He looks relieved ... for approximately .02 seconds before resignation washes over his face. “I will. Eventually. You’re the one rule he has, and I would never disrespect him or your parents that way, no matter how long I’ve wanted you.”
I don’t think, I react, jumping to my feet and then around the coffee table to loom over him. “How long youwhat?”
Chapter 16
Griffin
I didnotmean to say that. Ever. And certainly not to Penny herself. I planned to take that secret to the grave for both our sakes. But it slipped out, and I can’t take it back.
Fuck, I want to take it back.
But do I really? Isn’t there some small sliver of relief in my cold heart that’s glad it’s finally out in the open? Yes, but that doesn’t mean I should’ve given in to that weakness. I’ve fought it for so long, doing my damnedest to hold it deep inside, because I know the damage this truth bomb is going to cause.
I’ve played it out in my mind hundreds of times. Sometimes, I imagine it wouldn’t be that bad ... that Penny would leap into my arms and say,Me too; that Dominic would be mad at first but would then hug me tight, saying that he’s glad I’m the one to capture his beloved sister’s heart because he can’t imagine anyone better than his best friend with her. Even in an imaginary fantasyland of my own making, that pretty picture doesn’t seem probable. The much more likely response would be Penny saying something cruelly dismissive and Dominic beating the shit out of me, which I’d let him do because I’d deserve every hit. In that scenario, I never see Penny again, which is untenable.
If she doesn’t know how I feel, at least I get the joy of seeing her, knowing her, and watching her succeed. From one small step away, I can witness everything as she lives the life of happiness she deserves.
But now I’ve fucked it all up. I’m good at that. Always have been, always will be.
“Nothing, never mind.” I get up from the couch, walking into the kitchen (a.k.a. running away from Penny and the clear look of shocked horror that’s written all over her face). Threading my fingers through my hair, I pull harshly at the strands. The pain is a much-needed punishment for ruining everything, but it’s not enough. I slam my hands onto the counter, the sound sharp and too loud. “Fuck!”
“Griffin?” Penny says from the doorway, her voice quiet and unsure.
I don’t look at her. I can’t. I don’t want to see the revulsion on her face. It’ll be there—I know it will be. I’ve done too good of a job at becoming the asshole she hates. There are years of insults, of pushing her away, of making her feel beneath me, when the truth is, I’m the one unworthy of someone as amazing as her.
“I thought ... well, I’ve always thought you hated me? Right? You hate me?”
God, I can’t stand it anymore. I can’t fucking stand it.
I don’t decide. I don’t choose. Or maybe I chose a long time ago and have been denying the inevitable, even to myself. My feet move of their own will, getting me closer to the one thing I want the most—Penny. “Does this feel like hate?”
Not giving her a moment to answer, I take her mouth with a kiss. She jolts in surprise, but I cup her cheek, keeping her at my mercy. It’s such a relief ... arelease... to finally touch her the way I’ve wanted to for so long. She’s somehow familiar, the Penny I’ve known for years—and new, the Penny I’ve never experienced like this. When she gently falls against me, the small surrender ignites every ember I’ve kept at a slow burn, cranking my need up to the point of desperation. I reach down, wrapping an arm around her lower back and picking her up easily. She hangs on tomy neck, but she’s so short that her legs dangle, her toes bouncing against my shins.
Spinning, I deposit her on the kitchen counter, shoving her knees open with my hips until there’s enough space for me. Her hands explore my chest, and I lift into her touch, wanting the invisible branding of her fingertips. She’s already unknowingly tattooed her name onto my heart; she might as well claim my body too. Because it’s hers. It’sbeenhers.
