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“Yeah?” I answer.
“Can I stay the night?”
“Why?”
“Because you have a pair of compression boots that I like to use on Thursdays.” She looks confused. “Remember?”
“You can take them with you and go back home if you like.”
“No, I’m good.” She walks past me before I can say anything else.
As usual, she sets up camp on my couch and slides her legs into the compression boots. Like I’m instantly wired into what’s become our routine, I go into the kitchen and make her a vanilla protein shake.
I sit next to her on the couch, and she leans against my chest.
“I met the cutest guy at the grocery store before coming over here,” she says, looking at me. “I think you’ll be super impressed with how I handled approaching him.”
“I’ve told you countless times to let the guy approach you.”
“That’s what I meant,” she says. “Anyway, I took a page from ‘The One That Was Shy’ and made direct eye contact and smiled. It took him a minute to ask for my number, but we hit it off pretty well after that.”
I listen as she talks about this guy for another hour while begging for advice, and I start to think that my ill-timed moment on the park bench may have meant nothing at all.
It’s probably all in my head.
Thirty-Three
Present Day
Hayden
The devil was lighting up a room in preparation for my arrival. Forget fire and brimstone; my punishment was bound to be a nuclear detonation that would leave an acre-wide hole in Hell.
I couldn’t stop falling for Penelope if I tried, and I wasn’t concerned with any of the consequences or repercussions right now.
We were toeing the line between reckless and insane—hanging out in public more often under the ever-snapping gaze of the photogs. The headlines had yet to reflect that, though; they were still distracted with my apology letters—still unassuming.
“Have you picked out a dress for your brother’s fight?” I pressed a kiss against the back of Penelope’s neck as we sat on my balcony.
“No, but now that you’ve brought it up, you can help me choose.” She moved out of my lap. “I stuffed a few options into my bag the other day, but you can pick out the lingerie that I’ll wear underneath the dress first.”
“You don’t need to wear anything underneath it at all.”
“We’ll see.” She laughed. “Go wait in the living room.”
I kissed her one more time and headed down the hallway. I was halfway to the living room when someone knocked on the door.
Lawrence.
I grabbed a few apology letters from my table before walking over to open it, finding myself face to face with Travis instead.
What the fuck? “Um, hi.”
“Um, hi?” He laughed. “That’s all I get?”
“Shouldn’t you be in Vegas?”
“My plane leaves in a few.” He held up a bottle of thousand-dollar champagne. “I can’t pop up to see you for a quick celebratory glass?”
“You haven’t fought the match yet, Travis.”
“I already know the results.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and ushered him inside. Then I sent a quick text to Penelope.
Me: Your brother is here. Stay in my bedroom.
“Do you still have that contact at Top Modeling?” Travis walked into the kitchen.
“I do, but she no longer talks to me.” I pulled two glasses from the cabinet.
“Is she still mad about you never calling her for a repeat?”
“Probably so.”
“Well, I won’t bring up your name when I call,” he said. “I need to hire a few more replacements for my grand entrance.”
“Good idea.” I tapped my screen and sent him the contact info.
I was about to ask him how long he planned to stay, but the sound of heels clicking against the floor made me turn around.
Shit.
Penelope walked into the room wearing a short, nude-colored dress that left nothing—fucking nothing, to the imagination. The thin fabric exposed her hardened nipples and the intricate lace imprint of her panties.
“Hey there, Crown.” Travis looked her over. “I see that you’re currently searching for the rest of that dress. Try calling to the store and asking why they only sold you half of it.”
“Funny.” She hugged him. “Hayden is helping me pick out an outfit for your big event.”
“You don’t need his help if you’re considering that one,” he said. “It’s a fuck no, so pick another.”
“I’m twenty-five-years old, Travis. I don’t value your opinion on much of anything anymore.”
“Don’t you dare wear that to my fight,” he said.
She groaned and attempted to change the subject. “Are you excited about the big five-million-dollar payday?”
“I don’t want even you to pack it into your suitcase.” He narrowed his eyes at her.
Then he shot me a “You better back me up on this” look.
I could only nod. I was too speechless at how fucking sexy she looked, far too turned on.
“Anyway, yes,” he said to Penelope. “I’m excited about getting five million for showing up to fight this clown, and even more for winning. My rider is all set for everyone and—” He stopped talking once his phone vibrated in his pocket. “Yeah, Graham? Right. I’m on my way.”
