Page 12 of Punishing Penelope
I say it before I regret it, before I can think twice.
“So, does this mean we’re together now?”
Peter flinches, and a huge oh, no racks my insides before he intertwines his fingers with mine, holding up our hands and studying them against the light. He opens and closes his mouth, then pulls me under him and catches my mouth with his, holding my hands in one of his above my head.
“Yes. You’re all mine now.”
“You’re mine, too.”
“Forever.”
“And fucking ever.”
“Romantic girl.”
“Romance is dead,” I scoff. “Give me more of the fucking.”
I tingle. He’s hard. I wanna go again.
His hand is on my thigh, stroking higher. I spread my legs, and he finds his way between my thigh and my shorts, pushing a finger inside. It stings so bad, I jerk and scoot away.
“Ow.”
“I think…” he says.
I fill in the sentence. “We should try again tomorrow.”
Peter pulls me back into his arms and hugs me so hard, I almost can’t breathe.
“For fucking ever,” he says.
I melt.
It’s hot as hell, the sun heating the inside of the car to unbearable levels, but that’s not why.
He makes my insides go mush, and I’m never letting him go.
That night we meet the gang at the café, and we hold hands. Everybody stares. I almost pull away, self-conscious and vulnerable in a way I don’t care for, but Peter isn’t having it. He clutches my hand harder and puts his mouth to my ear.
“Mine, remember.”
I’m instantly filled with that particular warmth I only feel when I’m with him.
The others whistle and hoot as we find seats next to each other.
“We’re all... all… couply,” Sandra says and looks around.
I think of Stephan, wondering if he’ll find it as funny as the others seem to. Oh, well. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. In a few years from now, probably… or never.
A few weeks later, he walks through the cafe door. His long hair is wild and looks as if he hasn’t brushed it since the last day of school, and he has a beard. He’s wearing dirty jeans and a leather vest with nothing under it, and a huge tattoo adorns his left arm.
“Hey, guys! Thought I’d find you here! What’ve I missed? Who’s doing who?”
I discreetly extract my hand from Peter’s, and he lets me.
Cole and Liam dart up and slap Stephan’s back and hand, respectively. Sandra pulls an extra chair to the table. The sweet smell of pot surrounds him, becoming stronger the closer he gets.
“Dude! Thought you were gonna be gone for like a year!” Liam says. “Or never even come back to this shithole.”