Page 56 of Parts of Us


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Motherfucker.

Cam snaked his arms around my neck and bussed my cheek. “Do you need me to protect you, Owner?”

For Pete’s sake, not when he put it like that. Cam was what, 140 pounds soaking wet? And Penelope couldn’t be more than five foot five. I had nearly a foot on her, and I was scared to face her? How much of a coward was I?

“Enjoy your swim with Daddy,” I muttered.

* * *

The downside to having an indoor pool was that I couldn’t shut out our boys’ enjoyment while I paced the kitchen and waited for my doom. And I knew it was coming. Penelope had lost her mother to a heart attack, for which she blamed her hectic job, so one could say Penelope was…sensitive on the matter.

She was the little sister I’d never asked for or wanted. Unfortunately, once she wormed her way into your life, you needed her to stay. And wormed was probably not the right term. We’d met at a kink party some twelve years ago, and we’d just clicked. She was as dry as I was, we shared similar core kinks, and we were each other’s sounding boards for demos, DM duties, events, and creative punishments.

Once we got past her scolding me, I wanted to talk to her about TPE, because I was a bit wary of jumping right back in with Cam. Things had changed. I had to prove myself. I had to show him he could rely on me again.

KC was too close for such a conversation. He’d say something along the lines of us being in this together, and that was how we’d work things out. Which wasn’t necessarily wrong, but I could admit my confidence had taken a hit, and it’d do me no good to lean on KC too much.

Now.

I peered out the kitchen window as I heard the telltale sound of Penelope pulling in with her truck. The driveway was full, so I spotted her between the naked branches of our hedge.

All right, let’s get this over with.

I poured us coffee before I went out to get the door for her.

The moment I opened up, I noticed we both had to give each other a once-over, because she didn’t look like her regular sharp self either. Penelope Darling without high heels and makeup? Hell truly had frozen over.

“Sweatpants?” She wrinkled her nose. “What the fuck, Leroux? It’s worse than Greer warned me about.”

I frowned. “You’re one to talk.” Ratty jeans, All Stars, and an old hoodie?

She jutted her chin and walked past me to kick off her shoes. “We’re not discussing me.”

Perhaps we should. I’d thought she was finally feeling better, but this looked like a cry for help if ever I saw one.

“Is this about Ella?” I had to ask.

You thought you knew someone, and then they just up and left. Penelope and Ella had been a couple for, what, ten years? And then right around the holidays, Penelope had caught Ella cheating, and within a few days, all traces of Ella were gone. She’d left our community, closed her online account, and moved out of the place she and Penelope had shared.

“We’re not discussing her either,” she responded coolly.

I furrowed my brow and followed her to the kitchen.

“For me?” She grabbed one of the mugs, and I inclined my head. She took a sip and closed her eyes. “Fuck, Cam makes great coffee.”

No argument from me.

It was unnerving to see Penelope like this. Her wild copper hair was usually more tamed; now the locks were gathered in a messy bun. Her old college hoodie had some stains on it from paint, and Penelope only painted when she was feeling low.

“I take it we’ve both hit rock bottom,” I said.

She took another sip and eyed me. “I’m on my way up. I’m just…making some changes in my life. You, on the other hand…”

I narrowed my eyes and stood a little straighter.

“If you frown any harder, your face is gonna freeze like that,” she told me.

I barely refrained from rolling my eyes. Picking up my coffee, I gestured for the den where we could speak in private. The living room had a full view of the pool, and I didn’t need the distraction.

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