Chapter 11

Madden

I'm not losing my best friend, and I'm trying not to freak out like I am. He's not pulling away. Things weren't weird today. Everything is normal, and I'm overthinking like I usually do.

I'm sitting up past two in the morning, watching infomercials. Usually Rush is awake and watching them with me, but Hunter slept over last night, and I didn't want to disturb either of them. It's not as much fun taking bets on the products when I'm only betting against myself.

I tilt my head at the advert for chia pets. They're cute. I like growing things. I like chia.

Sounds like a win to me.

I'm on my phone and ordering a set when there's a creak from the hall.

"Hey," comes Seven's low voice. "Didn't know anyone else was awake."

"Just me. "

He takes the seat beside me, and as the two largest guys in the house, there's not much room for anything between us. "You buying some of those things?" he asks. He's definitely been asleep at some point because his voice is husky.

"Yeah, they're cool."

"Which ones are you getting?"

I tilt my phone toward him. "I like Alf."

"Of course you do—hey. They have a Chucky Doll. You need to get that one."

"I think I have enough issues sleeping as it is. Ohh, the dinosaur's cute."

"Boring. Get the poop emoji."

I laugh and add it to the cart, but that thing is going in his room. It can watch while he and Molly have sex. A Pooping Tom.

"Okay, I'm getting Alf, Gizmo, Morty, and Sonic." I hesitate over the unicorn. "And this one for Z."

"It's gross. He'll love it."

It wouldn't matter what I buy him, Xander will love it. He has issues from being neglected when he was younger, so being paid any attention lights him up inside. I'm not a shrink, so I have no clue if I'm enabling or whatever, but putting a smile on Xander's face is never a bad thing in my books. I just want him to know that I care about him.

I view him as my little brother. He's na?ve, emotional, scared, but really tries to see the good in the world, even if sometimes the good is hard to find.

This unicorn can be another little spot of brightness for him.

Then, because I feel like I'm playing favorites, I add something for Christian and Rush too. Both of them will probably kill whatever they try to grow, but it's the thought that counts.

"How are your Penn plans working out?" Seven asks when I pay for way too many clay pots that don't grow anything you can actually eat.

"Good. Elle has a sort of friend she's introduced me to who's interested, and I remembered that one of our past clients used to get flirty with him whenever we were over there, so I gave her a call as well."

Around Seven's eyes gets all tight. "That sounds like an awkward conversation."

"No, she was cool. Very interested." My heart reminds me of its feeble existence, and I give it a rub. "I'm going to have a girlfriend for Penn in no time."

"If that's what he wants."

"He was very open to the idea when I mentioned it today. I think."

"Well, with confidence like that, nothing can go wrong."

"Shut up," I mutter. "I just want him happy."

"And you happy too, right?"

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No. It's an important thing. Which is why I'm making sure you've got yourself in mind while you're running around making up all these elaborate plans." Seven frowns and tilts his head in thought. "Actually … is Molly behind this? Do I need to have a word with him?"

"No, it's got nothing to do with Molly." I almost laugh. "If it was Molly, he'd be trying to plan ways for me to win Penn over."

Seven doesn't look impressed. "Nothing like hearing your boyfriend supports problematic behavior when it's 2:00 a.m. and you can't sleep."

"Molly's just a romantic."

"Don't I know it?"

Seven rubs his face tiredly. "I think you need to put this plan to bed."

"Too late. "

"It's a terrible idea."

"Consider your concern registered, but the plan's already in motion."

He stands, and as he's leaving the room, I hear him say, "I'll make sure we have scotch."

Little does he know that I won't be needing the scotch. Unlike my roommates, I don't have a tendency for breakdowns. My life is simple enough that I avoid all the dramatic shit they're dragged through. And thank fuck for that.

No blanket burritos and emotional support alcohol for me.

Penn and I have a meeting with a client the next morning. We plan out the garden, run through some options, and give her rough pricing on each stage. She's engaged and seems ready to sign, which means we're booking months in advance now, and things are really starting to look good.

I give Penn my vision, and he makes sure it works from an engineering perspective before bringing it to life on his computer. We've streamlined this stage of the process, and I love that even though things were shaky over the weekend, everything feels like it always does when we work.

We make plans for me to stop by his place this afternoon to tell him about the women I've got lined up for dates with him, and then I head over to the almost-flashed clients' house and keep going with the gardens. It's gone from an overgrown weed jungle to a tropical paradise in only a matter of weeks, and in a few more days, it will be finished.

It'd be great to have a whole team of people to help me put this together much faster, but we'll get there. One day.

I shower at home after work, then make my way to Penn's. Hopefully, he'll be ready for an early dinner because I'm fucking starving after accidentally skipping lunch .

His apartment is quiet when I step inside, and I love it here. So different from Bertha. I love how alive that house feels, but Penn's place is calming, even if it is in a row of other tiny apartments, which I'd normally hate. Penn makes his place feel like home.

I strip off my clothes and hang them by the door, then grab a Coke from the fridge while I wait for him to show his face.

The distinct sound of a toilet flushing reaches me, but it's not Penn who comes down the hall. It's Lana.

She spots me, and her whole face morphs into shock.

"Why are you naked ?" she shrieks.

Ooops. I sidestep further into the kitchen so the counter is covering me from the hips down. "Why are you here ?"

"Penn invited me over."

"Well, Penn invited me over."

"And that's all well and good," she says, shielding her eyes, "but I asked why you were naked, not why you're here!"

"What's all the shouting?" Penn asks, coming out of his bedroom.

I'm trying to keep myself covered while doing a mental floor plan of his apartment to work out if the flushing toilet was all a decoy so I wouldn't know Lana was in his room with him.

Was she in there?

Is something happening between them after all?

"You have a naked Madden in your apartment," Lana says, blindly pointing my way.

"Ah." He joins me, helping himself to a Coke as well. "Yeah, Madden's a nudist."

"He what ?" Her hands are covering her whole face now.

"It means he doesn't wear clothes."

"I know what a nudist is. But you didn't think to mention that in the million and one conversations we've had about him? "

"Must have slipped my mind."

"To be fair," I say, rushing to Penn's defense, "it's not something we think about much. I forget I have my bits out most of the time."

"Because that's my biggest concern here." Lana slowly inches her hands away from her face, establishes I'm not flashing her, and lowers them altogether. "What's the deal? You let it all out while you're strutting around Penn's place?"

"I don't strut, necessarily …"

"Kinda do." Penn smirks as he takes another sip of his drink.

"Either way, if you'll redirect your eyes for about three minutes, I'll put my clothes back on."

"Thanks." Lana turns her back, and, for maybe the first time in Penn's apartment, I pull on clothes and … stay in them.

Which, I guess, if he has a girlfriend, is something I'm going to have to get used to.

"Thanks for the heads-up," I grumble.

Penn looks genuinely sorry. "I didn't hear you come in, or I would have caught you first."

Too busy making out? I don't ask the question. My gut has enough bitterness and jealousy going on.

"Anyway." I throw Lana a quick look, and with her back still to me, I pull up a stool and give Penn my full attention. "I thought tonight we could visit a few social media accounts. You can let me know who you think is attractive, and we'll go from there."

"What social media accounts?" Lana asks.

I guess I'm giving her the CliffsNotes, then. "Penn wants a girlfriend?—"

"I never said I want a girlfriend?—"

"Since he struck out with you," I probably shouldn't have added that part, but I'm being dramatic about my suspicions toward them. "I'm helping set him up on a couple of dates." I turn back to him. "All gorgeous and smart and funny women. You'll like them."

"I dunno." Penn shifts on the spot. "Blind dates are awkward."

"You've never been on one."

"Because I don't want to go through the awkwardness."

I understand where he's coming from, but if he wants to find someone, it's something he's going to have to get over. "You know Marissa. We did her front garden last summer. She lives in George Park District, a few blocks back from Bertha."

"I vaguely knew Marissa in a professional capacity."

"But that already gives you a talking point."

"Madden, I?—"

"You said I could help," I remind him. And maybe if I get this moving and it's with someone I like, it'll be that much easier to accept.

Penn spins his bottle around and around in his hands. It's something he does when he's anxious, and I totally get why he might be apprehensive about this, but I don't want him to be. I want to make everything easy.

"Hey." I reach out, pluck the bottle from him, and take his hand instead. "What are you so afraid of?"

"Nothing, I'm just not so sure I want to dat?—"

"But it will solve your problem."

"Maybe, or?—"

I don't let him finish that thought either. Penn has a tendency to get in his head about things, and I can't let this be one of those times. He needs this. And so do I. "There's nothing for you to stress about. I've got it all worked out."

"And do I get a say?"

"Of course you do. I just said we'll narrow down my list."

"Right."

"You're a very attractive man with so many options."

"Okay. "

"Aren't you excited?"

"Well—"

"Wait a minute," Lana says, interrupting our moment. "What do you mean that Penn struck out with me?"

"You guys didn't hit it off. Obviously."

Her eyes widen, and she turns to Penn. "You didn't tell him?"

"I didn't know if I could."

"Tell me what?" Neither of them answers. "Feeling left out over here."

Lana looks from me, to Penn, and back to me again. Then she reaches for Penn's free hand. "We're together."