His beautiful mouth lifted at one end. It was the sunniest he’d been all morning.
He took a deep breath. “I should have brought my sleeping tablets.”
“I don’t want you to take those just to sleep with me,” I said.
“Then what do you want?”
His frustrated tone made me wince. “Normal, I suppose.”
“Then you’re with the wrong man. I don’t do normal.”
I bit my lip. A storm of emotion churned away.
Sulking, I turned my face to the window and stared at the streak of blurry green landscape. My eyes burned with tears.
“Penelope, I think you know how much you mean to me.”
I sniffled and removed a tissue from my bag. “I guess we’re fuck buddies.”
“I hate that term. It’s crass. We’re not mindless teenagers. It’s more than that. You’re more than that. I just didn’t expect this to happen.”
“What to happen? Say it.”
“You to happen.”
“You make it sound as though I’m a disease.”
“You’re not.” His voice had a frustrated edge. “You’ve given me more pleasure in the past couple of months than any woman I’ve ever known. And it’s not just the sex. I like talking to you. You’re incredibly smart, brighter than most. And your art, your creativity, your drive… you’re one very special girl.”
Special girl? I wanted to be the love of his life. I wanted to hear that he couldn’t live without me.
“What’s wrong, Penny?”
I turned to face him. “You called me Penny.”
A little smile touched his lips. “That’s what you wanted.”
Short, sweet, and evasive as always. That was Blake. Not short of course, as he was tall and broad and so fucking beautiful, I wanted to devour him. And the darker he got, the sexier he became. Only, I wasn’t sure my nervous system could cope.
We arrived at my new house—the house that bound us together.
He leaned in and kissed me gently on the lips. “I have an important meeting, but I’ll drop in later. Okay?”
A cold feeling swept through me. Separation anxiety. I had it bad after two days together not just fucking but watching a little telly, talking about art, and working on my projects together as well. I’d loved every minute. Even if the nightmares soured things a little, those tender moments of closeness had meant everything to me.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I’m scared because I’ve fallen hard for you.” I opened the car door and hurried out to avoid another stretch of silence.
I went to the door, and just as I was turning the key, I turned and noticed Blake watching me from the car. Our eyes met, and his face softened into a gentle smile. It was Blake’s way of telling me that things would be okay and that we’d find a way.
I lightened. My clutching core released, and I blew him a kiss. His smile widened. It worked. We were good. For now.
* * *
LOST IN A DAYDREAM, I was sitting in my sunny living room overlooking the park when my phone buzzed. Blake’s handsome face, trying to smile looked directly at me. His sultry stare seared into me with the same look as when he was inside of me.
“Hey,” I said.
“Penelope. I’m afraid I can’t come over later. I’m off to the Cotswolds. Milly’s dying.” His voice had a slight tremor.
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I want to stay with her. I’ll call you.”
“Sure. Please take care,” I murmured.
“Bye.”
And that was it. No “I love you.” It was probably too much to expect and selfish of me to think about that. Milly meant the world to Blake. She was like family. In any case, I’d only heard him utter those words once, while he was in the throes of an orgasm.
I rose from the sofa. I had to stop thinking about Blake. There were things to do. When I wasn’t in my studio, which was most of my spare time, I liked the kitchen to potter around in—I loved how it overlooked the garden. And I needed to organize rehab for my mother. I’d decided we’d drag her there screaming if necessary. I had to try something, or else I’d end up drowning in guilt for not doing enough.
I picked up my phone and pressed on Sheldon’s animated face. “Hey.”
“Hey, Penny.”
“What are you doing now?”
“I’m in my studio, looking for any excuse not to work.” He laughed.
“Why don’t you come over to my new house? I baked some cupcakes, and there’s a bottle of prosecco in my fridge.”
“How can I refuse.” He giggled. “I’m dying to see your new little house.”
“It’s not so little.”
“That’s right—a double-story terrace. Woo-hoo. We are stepping up.”
“I can’t wait for you to see it.” I smiled. His contagious excitement bubbled through me.
“I’ll jump in a cab now. Text me the address.”
“Will do. Can’t wait.”
The cupcakes I’d baked sat prettily on the bench. I’d made them for Blake as a surprise, knowing his fondness for freshly baked cakes—a weakness he’d admitted to along with mentioning my tits and pussy. He had to, of course, make his love of sweets erotic. I didn’t mind. Blake could keep whispering dirty little nothings all he wanted as long as he kept wanting me.
A pang of pathos touched me. I knew how much Milly meant to him. Leaning on my elbows, I contemplated his relationship with that sweet old soul, when the door knocker sounded.
I answered the door and found Sheldon standing there. “Hey, Penny.”
I stepped out of the way, and he entered. “My God, overlooking the park.” He whistled. “He didn’t skimp, did he?”
I released a deep breath. “Blake’s pretty generous.”
“He really likes you.” He stretched out his arm. “Show the way.”
We entered the sunny living room. “It’s a little bare. I haven’t had time to shop.”
Sheldon turned in a circle. “It’s so sunny, and a gorgeous bay window—how delightful. You’ll have to have a party.”
“Maybe when, and if, I graduate.”
“’If?’ You’ll be okay. You submitted your essays. You’ll pass. You’re brilliant.”
I tilted my head. “You’re so supportive. Let’s go into the kitchen, and I’ll open the prosecco.”
“I like the sound of that. And there’s that delicious smell of baking in the air. Yum.”
When we entered the kitchen, I stood by as Sheldon looked out the window.
“The garden’s gorgeous.”
“Isn’t it? I love being here. And wait till you see this.” I led him into my studio.
When he saw the large space boasting the type of natural light an artist pined for, he squealed with approval, drawing an excited giggle from me.
“Oh my God, Penny.” He went over to the bench, where my studies were scattered.
“These look great,” he said, studying the pencil sketches.