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I’ve got my weight training class at six, but I should be done by 7:30.
Don’t shower after, he texted back. Don’t even change your clothes.
Chapter Eighteen
“You don’t have to push me,” Caleb protested as Penny herded him out of her apartment on Sunday morning. “I’m going.”
They’d spent the last four nights together at her place. In fact, they’d spent almost every free minute they had together.
It was a dangerous game Penny was playing, but she’d moved beyond caring into the sweet embrace of nihilism. She’d be crushed when Caleb left no matter what, so she might as well soak up every second she could until then.
Her one concession to rationality and common sense was maintaining all her usual activities, even when it meant kicking Caleb out of her apartment so she could go to yoga or her weight training class. Or, like today, to volunteer at the nursing home for two hours.
“I’m going to be late if we don’t hurry. You have your phone, right?” As she dug in her purse for her keys, the plate of shortbread cookies she was juggling started to tip precariously, and she let out a squeal of alarm.
Caleb deftly relieved her of the capsizing baked goods, which he’d helped her make this morning. He was surprisingly handy with a rolling pin and cookie cutter for someone who looked like he should be modeling underwear for Calvin Klein. “Yes I have my phone,” he said with an indulgent grunt, “and ten dollars in my pocket that says you’ve never been late for anything in your life.”
Penny fished her keys out of her purse and opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.
“And arriving on time doesn’t count as being late, Amy Santiago.”
She twisted her head to beam at him as she locked the door. “Did you just make a Brooklyn Nine-Nine reference? I’m so proud of you, I’m going to let that dig about my punctuality go without comment.”
They’d made it through another season over the last few days and only had three more to go. Caleb didn’t know it yet, but she already had plans to make him watch The Good Place next. They should just have time to get through it before he left.
Penny felt a pang of unease at the thought of the drop-dead date looming over them, but pushed it to the back of her mind as she started for the stairs with Caleb following behind with her cookies like a dutiful footman.
“But I’ll have you know my punctuality is admirable,” she added.
“Is this you letting it go?” he asked in sardonic amusement.
“It’s good manners,” she said. “For the record.”
“I’ll have the court reporter make a note.” They reached the bottom of the stairs and turned in the direction of her car. “What time will you be back from entertaining the elderly?” he asked, drawing abreast of her on the sidewalk.
“Two-thirty.”
“Perfect. That’ll give me time to do a load of laundry while you’re gone.”
He didn’t even have to ask anymore. It was just assumed he’d come back to her place later.
They’d conveniently avoided the subject of how much time they were spending together. Penny lived in constant fear that Caleb would suddenly feel the need to back off again in some sort of misguided attempt at gallantry. As if anything could protect her from what was coming.
“You know, I’ve never seen where you live,” she said as they approached her car.
“It’s not much to see.”
She opened the rear hatch of her little white Kia. “I don’t care. I want to see it.”
He leaned into the car to set the plate of cookies in the cargo area. “No, you don’t.”
“Why?” She arranged her yoga bag up against the cookies to keep them from sliding around and turned to face him.
“Because it’s a dump.”
“It’s where you live.”
He shook his head. “You’re going to be disappointed.”
