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“Fuck, Penny, I… I don’t know what to say.” Blake leaped up and started pacing the length of my small bedroom.
I thought I would feel a deep sense of embarrassment, but part of me was relieved.
Relieved that I’d shared this with him.
But then he stopped with a look of alarm on his face. “Does this have anything to do with what he did?”
All of the air was sucked from the room.
“Yes… and no,” I answered honestly. “What Derek did left scars. The kind you don’t just get over, but it wasn’t just that. I’ve just never found anyone who I felt truly comfortable with.”
Blake’s brows furrowed as he whispered, “But I’ve touched you. We’ve kissed.” He dragged one hand over his face, clearly struggling to put all the pieces together.
I offered him a weak smile.
I couldn’t explain it either—why I came alive when Blake touched me, but when others touched me, I wanted to run.
To wither and hide.
Neither of us spoke. Blake came to stand next to me and dropped to his knees. He grabbed my ankles gently and pulled me around until my legs were hanging over the edge, and he was resting between them.
Everything was silent except for the beating of our hearts.
He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind my ear, and I blushed. It was such an intimate gesture.
Something had changed between us.
It was scary and intense, and yet, despite all my better judgment, it felt right.
This was our chance; I felt it with every fiber of my soul.
I’d lost him once, but destiny had brought us back together.
Blake opened his mouth to say something, but this time, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.
If one of us spoke now, this moment would pass.
And we might not get another.
“Penny, what are you doing?” he murmured as I parted my lips, urging him to kiss me.
Ignoring every seed of doubt I had, I touched my head to his and replied, “I’m making a choice.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
Blake
Age 18
The square envelope taunted me.
Today was my eighteenth birthday. The day I would have aged out of foster care. But here I was, hiding in my room while crowds of people partied in the rooms below in my honor.
I could hear their laughter and the drunken conversations. Uncle Anthony and Aunt Miranda had gone all out for me. A DJ was set up in the garden room, food and kegs filled the kitchen, and my whole class at Wellington was present.
But it could all go to hell.
Until my uncle wished me a happy birthday this morning and handed me two cards, I was ready to pack my shit and go find her.
