Chapter 8

Penn

Now that I know this one hundred percent isn't a date and that Lana wouldn't be interested in me anyway, it helps to take the pressure off. The flustering over her assumption about me and Madden has passed, and now we can talk . Become friends, without all that added bullshit my brain likes to throw at me.

Turns out that Lana came out to her parents a few months ago. It didn't go well, so she grabbed her cat, jumped in her car, and left. She didn't know where she was going or what she'd do once she got there, but after googling for the closest queer-friendly cities, she ended up in Seattle.

Good choice on her behalf.

Terrible choice by her parents.

"Tell me about Madden," she says suddenly.

It takes me a second to catch up to the conversation change, like it has for most of the time we've been together. "What's to tell? He's my best friend. "

"How long have you known him?"

"We met in high school, early on. We were both on the baseball team, good enough to play college level but not much after that, and for some reason, from that first day, we … clicked."

"It must be nice to have a friend like that."

"Yeah. It's easy. Now, we have a business together that we're getting off the ground."

Lana smiles and takes a sip from her coffee. "I had a best friend once. But I mistook her friendliness for affection, tried to kiss her, and unleashed the queer kraken on my life."

"Is she why you came out?"

"Yep. Everyone in town knew, so I had to get to my parents first."

"I'm sorry."

She shifts uncomfortably. "It's done now. Hopefully, I can meet some awesome queer women out here and get to be myself. Finally." She gives me a cheeky grin. "Until then, I'm stuck with you."

I laugh, relieved that this coffee date is going well enough that she can joke with me. "I might not be a lesbian, but you can still be yourself around me. Despite my impression before, I'm really not a bigot. I love Madden, and all the guys he lives with are queer too. I don't care who people are into."

"You love Madden?"

She's nudged at our relationship a few times now. "Platonically."

"And he only feels platonically about you as well."

"Exactly."

"And definitely wasn't jealous when I showed up?"

"Like I've been saying, he was in a weird mood this morning."

"Right." She props her chin in her hand. "Then that isn't his eyes glaring at me through a ficus? "

"What?" I go to spin around, but her hand lands on mine.

"Don't look."

Don't look? That's easier said than done. "What ficus?"

"I'll tell you when he looks away, but there's a fake wall of them in the middle of the room, and he's on the other side. Definitely spying on us."

I rub a hand over my face. "I might have told him last night that I've been lonely, and so now he's determined to help. I don't know what part of killing me with yoga and stalking us is helpful, but I'll bet it makes sense in his brain."

Her eyes flick over my shoulder again. "Should we go and say hi?"

"Hmm … do I want to go and say hello to my best friend, who's massively overstepping boundaries and probably doesn't even realize it?"

"It'd serve him right."

It would, but the thought of purposely embarrassing him doesn't sit right with me. Yes, I bought him a chicken costume a few days ago, but that joke was between us. He chose to wear it inside his place. If I go over there, Lana will follow, and then he'll be put on the spot and forced to explain.

Neither of us wants that.

"Better to ignore him."

"If that's what you want. But can we at least please agree that he's a tiny bit jealous? Maybe not over us dating, but even having me as a friend. You just said you don't have any outside of him."

For some fucked-up reason, that gives me a thrill. That Madden might actually care about me not always being here to hang out with when he feels like it. I know it isn't like that—in reality, he spends more time with his brothers because they live together, but when I'm home by myself, it can feel that way sometimes.

"I'm not agreeing to anything," I say through a smile .

"Fine … fine."

We stand and take our mugs back to the counter. "It was a rocky start, but I really enjoyed myself," I say.

"Me too. I like you, Penn."

"I have a full workday ahead, but give me your number, and we'll hang out again this week." I hand over my phone, and Lana punches her number in, then calls herself and hands it back.

"You heading home first?" she asks, nodding toward the door.

"You can go ahead. I have a feeling there's someone who might want to talk to me."

Even though I haven't actually seen him for myself, I'll take Lana's word for it that Madden is here. It's a very Madden move to pull. He might be laid-back, super personable, and have big ideas about a lot of things, but he's also protective as hell.

I love when that protective side is being focused my way.

Lana leaves the cafe, and I wait a moment before leaving as well. Once I'm past the windows, I find a stretch of wall to lean against and wait.

It only takes a minute for Madden to show his face. He hurries out of the cafe, brow scrunched, and almost jumps out of his skin when he looks up and finds me standing there.

"Penn."

It's so fucking hard not to laugh. "You sound surprised to see me here. At the cafe. Where I told you I was going before work."

"Ah. Yeah. I ducked inside for a coffee before work too."

"Weird that I didn't see you. We were right by the register."

He shrugs, tucking his hands into his pocket in a way I'm sure is supposed to look casual. "Must have been busy with Lana. "

Was that tone ? I shake myself, because no. Lana has obviously taken over. "She's really cool."

"I'm happy for you."

Even though I should call Madden out for being here, I … don't. No need for him to feel awkward, and if I say something, it's a definite way to make sure he never looks out for me like that again.

"Happy for me?"

He looks determined. "Yeah. She's pretty. Seemed friendly."

"So friendly you didn't say a word to her this morning?" The question slips out, but while I might be okay with him low-key stalking me, I'm not okay with him being rude to people.

"I was tired."

I give him my most skeptical look. "Tired?"

"Yep."

"Well, I suggest you make sure you're not tired the next time you see her."

Madden slumps. "Well, that's setting me up for failure. I have no idea when I'll see her again."

He might be an idiot, but he's my idiot. I sling my arm around his shoulders. "I'll make sure you get lots of notice, but we hit it off, and she lives two doors down from me, so it might be safer to assume she'll be around a lot."

"Like …" He swallows. "A lot a lot?"

"Who knows?"

"Is she your girl friend?"

"No, she's—" I cut off because I don't actually know if I can say. Lana never said her sexuality was a secret, but Madden's ranted about celebrities enough that I know outing people isn't cool. She told me, but that doesn't mean she wants to tell everyone.

Anyone who knows me and Madden knows that there are no secrets between us. The problem with that logic is Lana doesn't actually know us. This might be one of those things I need to clarify with her first.

"I think she'll be a great friend," I tell him.

Madden tilts his head until it's resting against mine. "I really want that for you."

And walking along the street with my arm around him and his head against mine feels very, very coupley. How many other things do we do without thought that are giving people the wrong impression? How many other people actually have that impression?

That's a deep dive for later.

I ease away from him and hope he doesn't pick up that my thoughts have swung in a wildly different direction.

"What did you talk about?" he asks.

"Her family. Where she grew up. Her cat. You."

"Me?"

I laugh and give him a gentle nudge. "Of course you. Why is that surprising?"

"Because you're trying to impress her. You're supposed to be talking about yourself."

"I'm not trying to impress anyone," I grumble. "And I did talk about myself. You're a big part of who I am."

Madden watches the footpath as we walk, then suddenly breaks into a wide smile. "I like that. You're a big part of who I am too."

"I know that already." But it's still nice to hear. I've been getting anxious about our friendship lately for no good reason. Things are shifting, and he has his own life, but we've always been there for each other, and we always will be.

One day, I'll be old, and my kids will be grown up, and I'll be able to look over and find him still right by my side. Probably with kids of his own.

Fuck it. We reach the building, and before Madden can turn toward the parking lot, I grab his T-shirt and tug him into a hug. He always feels so big and solid, and his arms immediately pull me closer. Our hugs are the best hugs. The ones that you can sink into and feel like you're safe.

He's the first to pull away. "Gotta get to the site. You've got that meeting today, don't you?"

"Across town? Yep. It's just an initial conversation, but we were highly recommended to her by a friend." Those are usually the easier customers to book because they've already got that initial trust.

"You've got this."

I fucking hope I do. As the person who's first to meet potential clients, I'm always terrified I'll mess up. This business is Madden's everything, and I want to see it succeed. I might have a fallback, but he doesn't, and I'd love for us both to be doing this full-time and making a great living out of it.

He gets to spend his days outside.

I get to design.

It's perfect.

Plus, it means we're together. And that might be the most important part of it all.