“How are you funding it?”
Penn guffaws. A word I’ve read, but never thought, until now, when I witnessed a real live guffaw. “Excuse me?”
“Your business,” I reiterate. “How are you funding it? Have you considered a campaign? Or an investor? You should probably form an LLC, too, if you haven’t already.”
“Gee,” he says, irritated. “Thanks for the unsolicited advice.”He narrows his eyes at me. “Why are you digging into this right now? Why do you care?”
Perhaps I should’ve thought this through a bit longer.
Perhaps showing up here and carrying secrets between worlds is a bit impulsive.
But while I’m tempted to brush Penn off with a joke, I can’t. Not if I want something to change between us.
“I’m digging in because I want to help you,” I say. That’s all I’ve been thinking about—how much Penn’s help meant to me, and how I hope to return the favor. Regardless of what happens between us, I want to help him make his dream a reality.
His gaze drops to the floor. “You feel sorry for me or something? Is that it?”
“What? No, Penn. No. That’s not it.”
Several giant leaps forward. A million steps back.
“Well, I seem to remember the many comments you made about the ‘mite kingdoms’ you expected to find in my bed,” he adds bitterly, turning his back to me.
I have no recollection of said comments, but I also have no doubt that when they dragged me up to Penn’s apartment, I made a fuss about being in his bed.
“Look, your sheets were lovely,” I say, and he throws me a look over his shoulder. “Really. A delightful bed.” I sigh, trying again. I have to make him understand, quickly. I have to be honest. “Penn, I’m here because I owe you one after my birthday, and because I feel a little lost right now.” He turns toward me, just slightly. “And in case you haven’t heard, I’m unemployed, so I have more time than usual, and I’d like to funnel it into something that matters.”
Penn leans back against the bar, arms crossed over his chest. Thankfully, he doesn’t tell me to stop, or shove it, or leave.
“I have a—a friend,” I continue, bending the truth just a bit. “She ran her own business. And she learned the hard way that if you don’t accept help, you won’t get anywhere.”
He presses his lips together. “So, I need help. For my help hotline.”
“Yes. You do.”
“And you want to be that help.”
“Yeah, Penn. I really do.”
One act of service at a time, he looked out for me. He taught me how to show love, even when you can’t quite say it. Now it’s my chance to return the favor. His turn to feel loved.
He stares at me. His throat bobs.
I resort to Plan B: begging. “Please.” I clasp my hands together. “Let’s make PennPals the…the hottest hotline.”
He shakes his head, embarrassed for me. “Listen,” he says. “I heard you quit your job. And that you’re making a lot of…other changes.”
I nod. “Connor and I broke up. On my birthday, actually. I just didn’t want to make it a thing for everyone.”
“I know,” he says, and I don’t miss his protective tone. “May I ask why?”
I lift a shoulder. “I want to be with someone who knows me.”
“And he didn’t?”
“No. Not the me I want to be, anyway.”
Penn bites the inside of his cheek and nods, sitting with that. Then he locks eyes with me again. “You’re right,” he says quietly. “I do need money. But I don’t want yours.”
