As practiced, I drag the neckline sideways, just like she showed me. With one shoulder properly bared, I glance slightly back and up at Penn, keeping my chin dipped. “You want to belooking at him through your lashes,” Bridget said, which is easier said than done. “And lower your voice,” she instructed. “Get husky with it.”
But it’s hard to do it all at once, like rubbing your stomach and patting your head. So, I re-dip my chin. Lower, then lower still. Finally, channeling my best strep-throat vocalization, I offer up the suggestive invitation. “Do you…want to watch a movie with me?”
Penn doesn’t move. Or speak. It’s as if I’ve pressed pause.
This, according to Bridget, was the goal: to surprise Penn. Shift the air between us. Overwhelm him with my sudden allure. Men need only one clear signal, she said, and then you’re off to the races.
“Do you…need a cough drop?” Penn asks.
Okay.Not quite racing. More of a hobbling jog.
I assure Penn that I’m fine, but my voice cracks, still half-stuck in the lower register. “I just need some water,” I explain, tapping my throat. “How about I get us drinks and make some popcorn, and then we can pick a movie?”
“I have to shower,” Penn says flatly.
I should be happy it’s not a no, but his lukewarm reaction leaves me jittery. It’s one thing to plan a seduction—another to go through with it.
“Great!” I smile, my cheeks oddly stiff. Do smiles always feel like this?
“Great,” Penn echoes, eyeing me curiously. “But I’ll handle the popcorn. You’d use the microwave bags, and I won’t allow that. I’ll make the good stuff on the stove.”
I will myself not to roll my eyes or remind Penn that the fire extinguisher hangs in the hall closet. He did manage to cook afull dinner without injury, so maybe people really can change over time. Or through time, or whatever.
I stretch my mouth impossibly wider. “Perfect.”
There’s a hint of a smile on Penn’s lips, like he can see the restraint necessary for me to speak so earnestly. He points a thumb toward the basement and says, “Alright. I’ll, uh, meet you downstairs, then.”
“It’s a date!”
His tongue darts to the edge of his mouth, the ghost of a grin still on his face as he nods back at me. “It’s a date.”
—
Wine might beoverkill. Beer might be underkill. Spirits are far too aggressive.
While Penn’s busy making snobby popcorn, I hunch in front of the small basement fridge, debating drink options. Overwhelmed, I choose one of everything.
As with the rest of the mansion, the basement is only partially renovated. The back storage room has been transformed into an amateur Laser Tag arena with strategically placed boxes and dividers, and the main space is a movie theater with two sofas arranged stadium-style.
The room is dark, lit only by string lights bordering the ceiling. Romance is built right into the space, reminding me why people like to Netflix and chill. It’s perfect: casual, but intimate. Talking optional, but not required.
This should be a cinch. A shoo-in.
Or, if I’m lucky, a shoo right out of this universe and back into mine.
I arrange some candy and the many beverages on a table alongthe wall, then sit in the center of the back sofa. Although I’ve never been one to engage in visualization exercises, this feels like the right time to attempt manifestation.
Closing my eyes, I picture it: Penn wanting me.
Right away, my brain jumps to the heat between us when I fell on top of him at the rink, his gaze locked on mine. I imagine Penn’s hands cradling my face, like he did that first morning after I woke up. I think about my fingers twisted in his hair, tugging him closer, but as his face inches toward mine, I snap my eyes open.
It’s just a kiss,I remind myself. A simple, calculated, means-nothing, magically transportive kiss.
My heartbeat is still trapped in the fantasy, though, so I jump when Penn comes into view. His wet hair curls at the ends, and he’s in gray sweatpants again, but this time, he’s wearing a hoodie, too. The top of his tan chest is visible above the white sweatshirt strings because he’s one of those freaks who wears sweatshirts without a T-shirt underneath.
Easier access,I think, and my cheeks warm.
That manifestation really got to me. File under: Netflix and No Chill.
