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Maybe, I never even crawled out of it. I never stopped loving her. I don’t think there was a time in my life I wasn’t in love with her. I don’t think there is a force on this earth or above that could’ve ever stopped me from falling in love with her.
I think I loved her the day I was born. Maybe even before.
I think I’ll be falling in love with her until the day I die. Maybe even after.
Chapter Eleven
Penelope
THESUNDIPPEDBEHINDTHE ROOFTOPS, beginning its descent on this quiet Sunday.
For the first weekend in at least six months, I didn’t volunteer at the museum, or frantically research graduate programs, or obsessively check my inbox for an acceptance. I watched my sister's softball game, the first one I’ve attended this year. I had dinner with my family for the first time in weeks. I went to the fucking Saturday market. It was glorious. I was fearful of my parent’s reaction to seeing me take a break, to briefly halt the repentance of my sins. To my surprise, it seemed like they were genuinely happy to see me relaxing for the first time in a while. I almost believed they weren’t pretending. My mother thanked me for going to my sister’s game, and for carrying her bags to the car at the market. My father smiled at me when I helped him with dinner. For the first time in a very, very long time, I felt content with just being in my own skin.
I have spent the better part of the last year watching my life unravel at my feet as I frantically tried to hold it up. I was exhausted. So exhausted that I simply couldn’t muster the strength to do anything but exist. What surprised me was that doing nothing but just existing over the last few days was a welcome relief. It was wonderful, actually.
I knew that eventually this carefree attitude would come back to bite me in the ass, and of course, it did. I leaned back against the exterior wall of my bedroom and closed my eyes. Trying to absorb the last of the sunshine as it warmed my face, ignoring the book in my lap. The rumble of the truck’s engine chugging down our street broke me from my moment. I watched Carter’s Bronco as it lurched to a stop in front of my house. He’d been gone most of the weekend. His truck wasn’t in the driveway yesterday morning when I woke up (not that I had been payingthatmuch attention), and it appeared he was just now returning. Wherever he’d been, he stayed overnight.
My heart stopped, dropped, and rolled right off the roof at the sight of the brunette in his passenger seat. Long, cascading, beautiful dark locks covered the face of the petite woman who was opening his passenger door. I tried to fight the urge to stare until I saw her face. I tried harder to ignore how sick it made me feel.
Especially once I realized it wasCharliestepping out of Carter’s Bronco. I was about to become physically ill with jealousy, and it was his sister.Get a grip, Penelope.A moment later Carter himself stepped out. He handed Charlie a bag and hugged her, planting a soft kiss against her forehead before she hopped across the street and into their house.
I was afraid Carter would feel the singe of my heated gaze, but I couldn’t will myself to look away. He stood next to his truck with nothing but a tank top and a pair of shorts, his bare arms staring right back at me as if it wasn’t fifty degrees outside. A camera slung around his neck, just covering bits and pieces of the sprawling tattoo that covered his upper arm and broad shoulder. The design of it flowed across his body like rays of sunshine as they snaked out across his shoulder and his chest. Inside each ray held a detailed and intricate artwork of abstract flowers, waves, swirls, and triangles. I never cared for tattoos much. I wasn’t against them, either. It just wasn’t something I found particularly attractive.
Until now. His was different, that much I could already tell. Just as he mentioned in the water on Friday morning, I could see his soul within it. Exceedingly beautiful.
“Howdy, neighbor.” His silky voice pulled me from the trance his body had me in. He was watching me with a knowing smile, silently acknowledging the fact that I had clearly been checking him out.
I cleared my throat. “I just haven’t seen your tattoo before.”
I sound like an idiot.
He chuckled deliciously, “Do you like it?” I gulped, hoping he couldn’t see it from here and nodded. “What’re you doing?”
I flashed the book in my hand. “I’ve got to present a lesson plan on this tomorrow and I haven’t finished reading yet.”
“Penelope Mason…procrastinating? I thought I’d never see the day.” He laughed, wiping a fake tear away from his cheek. “I’m so proud of you.” I flipped him off to hide the wince I felt inside my bones. He found it funny, but I found it an unwelcome reminder that I was no longer living up to my potential. “What’s the book?”
“The Alchemistby Paulo Coelho,” I called out.
He paused. “You’ve never readThe Alchemist?”
I shook my head.
“I’ve got something for you, then!” he shouted as he jogged from his truck and toward his house.
I hit my head against the wall behind me and sighed. I couldn’t believe how easy it was for me to fall back into the old patterns. Watching his every step, hanging onto his every word. Watching his parent’s house from the spot on my roof, hoping he’d walk out. Knowing that I would make an absolute fool of myself just to hear him laugh.Stop, Penelope. Stop, stop, stop.I’ve got to stop looking at his body. Fixating on his eyes. Staring at his lips.
God, those lips.
I reminded myself that he isn’t mine, he never was. I don’t even know him anymore.
Except, I do. I know the parts of him I’ve always known, the parts that still remain. He still smiles the same. Still laughs the same. His eyes still light up when he makes a joke at my expense, and I not only take it, but throw it right back. His devil-may-care demeanor and go-with-the-flow style hasn’t changed either. He still surfs. He still loves the ocean. He’s always loved the ocean. All nature, really. I could see he still felt most at home when he was outdoors. It was also clear that his protective instincts hadn’t diminished. Macie told me how defensive he got over me at the bar. The way Marshall had supposedly looked at me like I wasa snack, but not in the good way.
Pushing all thoughts of Marshall far, far from my mind, I thought of the way Carter brought me home and let me sleep in his bed while he slept on the couch. So stereotypically gentlemanly of him. Exactly what I would’ve expected. He even left me a damn glass of water in case I got thirsty in the night.And I’m not supposed to fall in love with that?
Deep in thought, I must’ve missed him as he crossed the street because the next thing I heard was the sound of my bedroom window sliding open. I looked over to find him crawling out of it and sitting down beside me on the roof. He got comfortable, matching my position and leaning against the side of the house. I’d always been particular about my spot on the roof. I didn’t allow my siblings up here, I didn’t even really allow my friends. Carter never tried to come out here before though, he’d never tried invading this space until now. For the first time ever, I didn’t feel like I was being invaded. I was happy to share my place with him.
He plopped something down at my feet. I glanced over to find a worn copy ofThe Alchemistwith dozens of post-it tabs sticking out the sides. I picked it up and flipped it open. It was annotated all the way through. Some sentences highlighted, others underlined, notes written all throughout the margins. “I left your clothes on your bed too. I would’ve returned them sooner, but I was out of town yesterday.”
