At Sea
What the hell had I done?
At what point had I turned every ounce of my self-control over to my dick? Hell, at what point was I going to admit that my attraction to Penelope wasn’t just physical?
I was so entirely fucked.
She blew out her candles, looking every ounce X-Treme Sports Magazine’s sexiest athlete of the year—yeah, I’d googled her—while I stood against the wall, simultaneously despising myself for what I’d just let happen and reliving every second that I’d had her mouth under mine.
It was her birthday. Her birthday, and I’d just hurt her. Sure, she’d responded with fire—I was learning to expect nothing less—but I’d seen the hurt in her eyes and immediately hated myself for putting it there.
God, I’d been so fucking stupid. I’d nearly let us get caught, so lost in her taste, the feel of her skin under my hands, that I didn’t hear the door until it was almost too late.
What if her friend said something? Would Penelope confirm her story? Would I lose my job—lose everything I’ve worked for?
A couple hours later, the dateline crossed and February sixth restarted like Groundhog Day, I stood in my room, hands braced on my desk as I looked over the contents of the file I’d spread out on the surface.
This was why I was here. This was why I’d given ten years of my life in pursuit of an opportunity just like the one that had finally fallen into my lap last week. This was why nothing else mattered.
This was a chance I’d never get again, and it could work. Everything could fall into place as long as I planned carefully, executed perfectly, and kept the hell away from Penelope Carstairs for the next three months.
You can’t stay away from her for a few days, and you think three months is going to happen?
I took the glossy 5×7 and stared into soft, innocent brown eyes. She was the reason I had to stay away from Penna. I had one chance to give her the life she deserved, the one she’d already worked so hard for. I couldn’t let her end up like my mother—broken, beaten…dead.
“I’m coming, Elisa,” I vowed to her.
And I never broke a promise.
…
The sun streamed in through the windows of my classroom the next afternoon, making it feel a hell of a lot warmer than the twenty-two degrees it was outside. We’d be pulling into Dutch Harbor, Alaska, tomorrow—our first real stop since leaving Japan six days ago.
As the class filed in, I arranged my notes, mostly to keep from looking for Penelope. Not that I needed to look for her. I’d felt her walk in. There was a subtle change to the air, a shift to my center of gravity.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her take her seat, and my fingernails bit into my palms. God, if I’d only met her a year ago, or a year from now.
Timing was a bitch.
“Happy Birthday, Penna!” the Wilder kid said, presenting her with a box.
I looked up just in time to see her say, “Seriously? I don’t want one birthday and now I have two? Like yesterday wasn’t bad enough.”
“Just say thank you,” he said, ruffling her hair like she was three.
The urge to smack his hand away from her head was immediate and overwhelming. She wasn’t a child, she was a full-grown woman. You’re just pissed you can’t give her a birthday present.
Like I’d even know what to get a girl who literally had everything she could want.
“What is this?” she asked, and I blatantly stared at the key she held, forgetting about the papers in my hand.
“You have to agree to come with us tomorrow to find out.”
I saw the debate play out on her face in the way her eyebrows scrunched, but then a look of yearning took over only to be consumed by a deep sigh. She was conflicted on every level a person could be, and the key seemed to be a symbol of that.
Her complicated nature was one of the things that pulled me in. Something told me whomever Penelope chose to love would never be bored.
“Dr. Delgado?” Macy Richardson called from the first row.
“Yes, Macy?”
“Are you really leading the snowshoe expedition tomorrow? I was trying to decide on a shore excursion, and I waited until the last minute.” She blinked at me, and I half expected to see words written on her eyelids like I was Indiana Jones.
“I am,” I answered. “But don’t feel like you have to come. You’re not required to attend my excursions until we reach Mexico.”
“Oh no, I’m sure it will be super fun!” She shot me a perky smile.
Great.
“I certainly hope so.”
Penna looked up at me, and our eyes locked, a million unsaid things passing between us before her eyes iced over and she looked back at Wilder. “Yeah, I’ll come. Nothing to lose, right?”
He grinned, and I wanted to vomit. He couldn’t seem to understand that she wasn’t making the choice out of want but out of anger at a situation he had nothing to do with.
“You won’t regret it!” Leah, the girl behind Wilder promised.
Did they even realize what had put her on that Ferris wheel? Did they see the pain she struggled through every day with her sister, her injury, her guilt? Or did they just push her for another stunt, another appearance? If they were her friends, why weren’t they taking care of her like she needed?
None of your business.
Damn, I needed to run off this frustration.
“Let’s get started, shall we? Who wants to tell me what they thought of the assigned reading?”
Penelope’s hand shot up, and I faked a glance down at my roster before I called on her. “Yes? Penelope?”
“It’s Penna,” she said, like it was some privilege to call her by the nickname her friends gave her.
Penna was the girl who put on fake smiles for her friends and those damned cameras that followed her around relentlessly. She was the outer casing that guarded the woman I knew was underneath.
That one line seemed so innocuous to everyone else in the room, but I knew the truth—she’d just shut the door on Penelope.
“Penna,” I repeated dutifully.
Then I tried to feign moderate, appropriate interest as she told me her insightful interpretation of the text. Of course she’d be smart, too. The only flaw the woman had was that she was currently untouchable.
I got through class, definitely not missing the way Rachel watched me through narrowed eyes. Yes, I’m an idiot. Yes, I took advantage of her—just not in the way you think.
After class, dinner with Westwick and some of the other teachers, and catching up on grading from my one-hundred-level class, I headed to the gym. I made damn sure it was after Penna’s preferred time and that I was alone.
Then I ran until I was too tired to regret what happened yesterday.
If I could figure out which damn part I regretted.
