Chapter 25

Madden

"What on earth have you done to this poor, little princess, Pennwick Beaverington?"

My head snaps toward Penn's front door at the shriek from out in the hallway.

Pennwick Beaverington?

The voices are muffled this time, but I still pull on some shorts and pop my head out into the hall, mostly because I'm nosy but also because I want to make sure everyone is okay. I'm met by the sight of Lana in a shower cap and slippers, while Penn is struggling to keep a drunk Lisa on her feet.

"What's going on out here?"

"Help?" Penn squeaks.

I hurry to join him on her other side, and we guide Lisa into Lana's apartment while Lana holds the door open for us to pass.

Even though the place has the same layout as Penn's, it looks completely different. There's bright-colored furniture everywhere, art on all the walls, and what looks like lumps of clay spread out over her kitchen counter.

Penn's place has its own style, but he's a minimalist.

As soon as we get close to the dark orange suede couch, Lisa lets go of us and slumps down into it.

"Feel so yucky," she mutters.

"There, there," Lana says, pressing a bowl into her lap and a glass of water into her hands. "I've got a spare bed and pulled out some pajamas for you, so why don't we get you in the shower and rested for tonight?"

Lisa nods, looking terrified. "Okay. Will you stay with me?"

"Ah, yes, of course. First, you shower, then I'll … I'll sit by your bed and sing you nursery rhymes or … something."

Lisa lets out a cute laugh and, with help from Lana, makes it into the bathroom.

Lana pulls the door closed behind her and turns on us.

"What the fuck, Penn? You did not mention that your favor involved bringing the hottest woman I've ever seen in my life into my apartment for a sleepover."

"She's hot?" Penn asks.

Lana face-palms. "She's basically the female version of Madden. Genetically perfect, big sweet eyes, and that kinda dopey vibe that makes you want to protect them forever."

I tilt my head, trying to figure out if I'm still getting compliment vibes from her. "Genetically perfect, I'll take. Dopey?"

Lana waves her hands, something she does a lot when she's talking. "Not dopey, like dumb. Wrong word, sorry. More like … this aura. Of sweetness. You both look like you'd be good at cuddling."

I'm liking Lana more and more now that I know she's not fucking Penn, and her complimenting me is helping things. "I am good at cuddling. "

"But that's not the problem here." Lana pitches her voice lower. "The problem is that I want to know if she is good at cuddling, but she won't want to know if I am good at cuddling because there's no way in hell a girl like that isn't straight."

"You shouldn't assume," I say. Though, when I first met Lisa, I got very Southern belle vibes from her, despite the fact she's not Southern. She looks like a wholesome blond-haired, blue-eyed missy whose daddy is guarding her virginity with a shotgun.

Nothing creepy about that.

Lana plants her hands on her hips. "I didn't assume with my best friend, and it led to my entire world crashing down around me. I don't think I'll be doing that again, thanks. A woman can dance naked in front of me, and I'll still ask her if she's straight."

I screw up my face. I don't have that kind of queer trauma, but it's all too common. Especially for women who have to navigate overly affectionate straight friends.

"There's one difference now though," Penn says, stepping forward to hold Lana's shoulders. "Your world won't crash and burn. You can take a chance on people, and it will be okay. We'll still be here, no one's kicking you out of your apartment, and as long as you don't go after anyone from your work, it's not their business either."

I'm surprised by the "we'll still be here" part, considering I barely know Lana, but I like that Penn makes that assumption. That he knows I'll support anyone he considers a friend, and judging by how they're both leaning into each other, they are friends. I didn't even need to help him with it.

I wait for the jealousy to hit, but it doesn't. It feels good.

Lana lets out a shaky breath, and something about getting to witness this moment has me softening to her some more.

"Penn's right," I say as the shower cuts off. "In the morning, if she's feeling better, see how she feels about getting coffee. While you're out, you can tell her that you're attracted to women and would like to see her again if that's something she's interested in."

Lana's face has gone pale.

"The worst she can say is no," Penn points out.

"I feel sick."

"Considering I thought my best friend was straight the entire time I knew him, I get how you feel," I say. "But he's also a testament to the idea that taking chances might turn out okay."

Lana glares from me to Penn. "Tell me you both don't think she's straight?"

I try not to assume anything about anyone, but in this case, I don't think Lisa is the kind of girl to think of anything else as an option.

Penn gets in before I can. "She probably is. Or, at least, she probably assumes she is. I don't know much, if anything, about her except her family wants her to move home, and it sounds like there's some gentle pressure there. But that's our point. No one is a sure thing. Lisa's probably straight, and you'll probably have to get okay with being told no, but you said you want to find someone. You want to know what it's like to live as an out woman. This is what it's like. Navigating friendships and relationships."

Hearing Penn talk tells me he's remembering all the conversations we've ever had about the differences between straight and queer people. Everyone assumes straight. Straight people can be attracted to others and know they have a good shot at something, but when you're queer, it's all a crapshoot unless you're somewhere specifically designed for you.

"For what it's worth," I add, "I have my fingers crossed for you."

"Thank you. Argh, okay. I can do this. Just have to get her into bed—the spare bed! Get her into the spare bed so she can sleep off the alcohol, and then maybe tomorrow, we can get talking. Maybe she has a boyfriend already, and if she does, that's okay."

"Exactly." Penn lets her go and steps back. "We're going to leave you to it, but if you need anything, call."

She nods, and we back out as Lana tugs off her shower cap and rapidly undoes the two braids her hair is in.

As soon as we're back in Penn's apartment, he tugs me into a hug.

"I didn't know you were here."

"Just thought I'd stop by. I had a great talk with Damien, and I wanted to fill you in in person rather than over the phone."

Penn eases away from me. "Anything wrong?"

"No way." I push my shorts back down and then hang them on the hook. "Everything is right. We talked for hours about this place, and, fuck, Penn. If it's anything like I think it could be, it's going to be fantastic. We didn't get into too many details about the place, just talked about working hours and money and what Damien expected from me." I'm not sure whether to mention that he was disappointed Penn wouldn't be joining us. I'm disappointed too, but the last thing I want is for Penn to feel guilted into something—I've been there, done that, too many times. That said, I don't want him to think he wasn't wanted there either. "I also mentioned it was really important to us both that we didn't lose momentum with our own business, and he said we can talk about any days off that I need to keep things running there." I pause. "He said the same for you."

"Me?"

I get the rest out as fast as I can. "He still says he wants us both there but understands why you said no. But he wanted me to let you know the offer is there if you change your mind and that he's open to talking about different structures that could work."

Penn doesn't look as relieved as I thought he would. Instead, his face falls.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I … nothing." He looks up and smiles at me. "I'm so fucking glad you're enjoying it."

"I really am. He wants me to start right away, but I said I'd have to help you find a landscaper first. I'm used to the grunt work, not whatever happens in an office, so this is going to be different."

"It will, but I have no doubt you'll impress him."

Penn goes to step away, but I pull him against me again.

"I impress you too, right?"

"What are you talking about?"

While Lana might not have meant to call me dopey, and I'm all for her thinking I look cuddly, I don't want that from Penn. I want him to think of me as so much more than an attractive face or a cute personality he needs to protect. "I want to make sure you don't only see me as the guy who carries the turf, like some pretty-boy version of the troll under the bridge."

"You don't need to worry about that because I've never thought of you that way."

Relief sweeps over me. "Good. When it comes to you, I want to be equals."

"I'd hate for you to let yourself go like that."

I pinch his ribs because he's being ridiculous now. Penn is everything I wish I could be and everything I've ever wanted in a partner.

Everything.

Because Penn is the only one I've ever wanted.

It almost doesn't seem real that he doesn't get that, and while I know it's too early to scare him with how deeply my feelings go, I still want to be able to show him that side of me .

"Stop fishing," I tell him instead. "If you want me to tell you how smart and sexy you are, I'll do it. No need to twist my arm."

"Do it, then."

"Fine." I press a kiss to his jaw. "You've got this cute little dip in your chin that your bottom lip curls over, like it's tempting me to suck it into my mouth." So I do. "Every time you talk about design and color palettes, I completely tune out because I don't know what it means, but I like watching you go off all passionate and shit." My hands run down to his lower back. "And every time your ass is within view, it gets me so hard, and all I can imagine is burying my face between your cheeks." I slide my hands further down and grab the ass in question. Penn might not work out like he used to, but I won't believe him for a second if he says he's not doing squats or something. This ass is fucking divine.

He clears his throat roughly. "B-between my cheeks?"

I nod, catching his eyes. "Even the thought of feasting on your hole is enough to get me hard."