“Great.” I force a smile. “Let’s find a seat.”
“Let’s,” he agrees, following me down the aisle.
We find an empty row in the middle and quickly take our seats, my parents joining us less than a minute later.
Service is beautiful and while I’m more than a little distracted by the man sitting to my right, I’m also able to appreciate just how much I needed to hear the message today. The sermon is about new beginnings, almost as if it were written just for me, even though obviously I know it wasn’t.
It still sparks something in me. Something I’ve known I needed to do for a while now but have been too afraid to do. To let go. To let go of what I lost. To let go of the life I once thought I would have and to start living the life that’s in front of me.
It feels more possible now than ever before and I’m determined to seize my newfound determination and write a new story, or rather to alter the ending of the one I started many years ago.
I glance to the right, my eyes locking with Penn’s as if he had been staring at me this whole time. And then I feel it, his fingers gently brush the back of my hand, so soft it feels more like a whisper on my skin than an actual touch. My heart stammers at the contact.
It takes me longer than it should to realize he’s asking a question, one that I answer by taking his hand in my own. Instead of pulling away, he intertwines our fingers. And that stammer I just spoke of turns into a full-speed gallop.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Penn
“Hey.” I look up just in time to see London enter the office, her skin flushed from the warm morning sun. Little tendrils of hair that escaped her braids stick to her face.
She’s the most beautiful creature on the planet and I find myself unable to form actual words in her presence.
It started after church last Sunday. She held my hand. Such a small, simple gesture and yet, it has since tilted my world on its freaking axis, and I feel like I’m walking around on uneven ground.
We never talked about it. She just got up, said goodbye, and left with her parents like nothing happened. Monday when she came to work, nothing. No mention of the shift between us, even though I know with complete certainty that she feels it too.
Nothing.
It’s maddening.
“Hey. How’s everything looking today?” I try to seem normal, but I’m not entirely sure I know what normal is between us anymore.
We’ve gone from basically wanting to rip each other’s heads off, to tolerating one another, to... Hell, I don’t even know how to put words to whatever this is.
“Good. Trav and Lou had to cut a tangled net loose last night, so their catch was low.”
“Did you report it to your dad so he can get it replaced?”
“I did.” She nods, taking the seat behind her desk.
“And Travis? Did he keep his lips to himself?” I can’t help but say, realizing I’ve done exactly what she was hoping for by the smile that turns up the corners of her mouth.
“He did. Pretty sure our boss threatened to fire him if he didn’t.” She meets my gaze, humor behind her eyes.
“He’s not good enough for you.”
“Is that why you don’t want him kissing me?” She challenges.
“In part.”
“What’s the other part?”
I open my mouth, fully prepared to tell her precisely why I don’t want him kissing her and just how far I’m willing to shove his head up his ass if he ever does again, when there’s a knock at the door seconds before it swings open and Travis steps inside.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
“Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to see if you’re ready,” he says directly to London.
