Bad Penny

by Staci Hart

  I lay there on my side with my back to the door and my heart full of shrapnel. It burned — my chest was shredded and smoldering and elated and aching. I didn’t know what it meant. I didn’t want to think about what it meant. I just wanted him back in bed with me. I wanted my name riding his breath and his arms around me and his lips against mine.

  I wanted simple and easy. But we were past that.

  He came back a minute later with a warm washcloth and cleaned me up like he always did but without the intention of more. Something in him was reserved, contained, like he was trying to separate from me.

  The thought made me want to hang onto him more.

  He stood and began to collect his clothes, and I felt my heart break.

  “Stay,” I said simply, holding my breath in the hopes that he would say yes, the word hanging in the air as he turned to me.

  I had never intentionally spent the night with anyone — I’d never wanted to. But the last thing in the whole world I wanted was for Bodie to walk out that door.

  His face was soft and cautious as he asked, “Are you sure?”

  And when I smiled and nodded, relief washed over him, and he slipped into bed next to me, holding me in his arms, whispering my name as we drifted off to sleep.

  13

  BEAR TRAP

  Bodie

  I poured a ladle of pancake batter into the pan with a sizzle, smiling as it spread into a perfect circle.

  It was a little late for me — I had to get home to work, the impending meeting looming over me like a dark cloud — but still I’d crawled out of Penny’s bed, wishing I could stay there all day.

  There were a lot of things from the last eighteen hours I’d never forget, but Penny curled up in bed, swathed in fluffy white bedding in the morning sunshine, her tattoos and purple hair bright against the crispness of her sheets — that was almost at the top of the list. Dancing with her to The Cure and pushing her on the swing were up there too. But the very top? The number one?

  Her eyes locked on mine when she’d given herself to me.

  A jolt of happiness and pleasure and anxiety shot from my stomach to my throat at the thought. As much as I wanted to talk to her, that moment had been enough for me. She didn’t need to say anything.

  I just knew. I knew how she felt and what she wanted. That line of communication was so much deeper than words could ever express.

  At the same time, I had to let her lead. So I’d tried to tell myself to go like I knew she always needed me too. And when she’d asked me to stay, it was all I could do not to confess my feelings on the spot. Instead, I’d slipped into bed with her and told her in all the other ways I could that I needed her.

  I slid the spatula under the flapjack and flipped it just as her door opened.

  She shuffled out, yawning, her hair in a purple bun on top of her head. And she was wearing my dress shirt, the hem cutting her mid thigh and only the tips of her fingers visible past the sleeve cuffs.

  I could have died a happy man.

  She smiled at me, her eyes blinking slowly as she sidled up next to me and wrapped her arms around my bare waist.

  “You cook,” she said in wonder.

  I laughed and picked up the box of Bisquick. “No, I follow directions.”

  She laughed. “If I’d known I’d wake up to you making pancakes in dress pants and no shirt, I would have asked you to stay over a long time ago.”

  I wrapped an arm around her back. “If I’d have known you’d wear my button-down like a nightgown, I would have begged you to let me stay.”

  She nuzzled into me, but I felt the wall crumble a little, felt her uncertainty behind it in the small sigh that left her.

  So I kissed her crown and changed the subject. “There’s coffee.”

  She kissed my chest and slipped away. “You are just too good to be true.”

  The words held double meaning, and I knew it. But I kept my eyes on the task at hand, moving the pancake onto the stack I’d been building and poured another.

  She poured her coffee in silence and took a seat at the table. When I snuck a glance at her, she was cradling her mug with both hands, bottom lip between her teeth and her brows together, sending my heart off a bridge.

  I set down the spatula and strode over to the table. The worry in her eyes was so clear when she met mine, and I knelt next to her chair, grabbing the seat to turn her to me.

  “Get out of your head, Pen.”

  She didn’t say anything, only watched me with the question Why? shifting in her irises.

  “Hey.” I cupped her face with my heart hammering a warning. “It’s okay. This can be easy,” I soothed, smoothing my face, smiling gently with a handful of oats and Penny stamping her hooves in front of me. “Nothing has to change, okay? I … I feel it too, but we don’t have to name it or label it. Let’s just do what we feel like doing, just like we have been. Call me when you want. I’ll do the same. It can be easy, Penny.”

  She took a breath and touched my cheek. “Promise?”

  And I sighed, the easy smile on my face now one hundred percent genuine from relief. “I promise.” And I sealed the lie with a kiss.

  She melted into me, winding her arms around my neck and squeezing to bring our bodies flush, her legs parting to make room for my waist. My hands traveled from her cheeks to her breasts to her ribs to her hips, and then I grabbed her ass and held her to me, using every muscle in my core and thighs to stand.

  She wrapped her legs around me and hummed into my mouth as I turned for the bedroom.

  Penny broke away, lips swollen. “What about the pancakes?”

  “Fuck the pancakes,” I whispered before pressing my lips to hers again.

  * * *

  Penny

  I watched Bodie washing dishes in his white button-down and dress slacks as I sat at my kitchen table with my chin propped on my hand and a dippy smile on my face.

  I didn’t even know who I was anymore.

  Bodie had spent the night, and I’d slept better than I had in my whole life. He’d made me pancakes and fucked me senseless and danced with me and made me laugh and made me happy. And as freaked out as I was, I kept telling myself that it was going to be okay, just like he’d said.

  He’d promised. And I believed him, which was probably naive. In the moment, I couldn’t have cared less.

  He turned with a smile, drying his hands on a dishtowel before striding over to kiss me gently.

  My eyes were still closed for a second when he broke away, and he chuckled.

  I sighed and pried my lids open, chin still on my hand. “I hate that you have to go. How much work do you have?”

  His smile fell, and he looked a little tired at the thought. “A lot. Too much. I’m not even sure how we’re going to get it done in time.”

  “You will. You’re a mathmagician.”

  “Ha. If only I had a magic wand.”

  I waggled my brows. “Oh, but you do.”

  He leaned down to kiss me again before backing away, his blue eyes searching mine. “Hit me up, Pen.” The words were soft and edgeless but with a hidden request in the shadows.

  So I smiled, having heard him and understood, and said, “I will.”

  He pressed another small kiss to my temple and walked away, and I watched him until the door was closed.

  The second it clicked shut, Veronica threw open her door with her eyes like a couple of fried eggs and her hair a mess, striding into the room.

  She pointed at the door. “Oh my fucking God. Did Bodie spend the night?”

  I smiled with my lips closed and nodded, making the bun on top of my head bob.

  She squealed and did a little Flashdance before swooping into the chair next to me. “I thought I heard him, but I was afraid it was someone else. And if it was someone else, I was prepared to brain you with a frying pan.”

  I frowned, offended. “You thought I might have come home from the wedding with someone besides Bodie?”

  She huffe
d and rolled her eyes. “You’ve done it before.”

  “Not true. I always go home with my dates, asshole. But yes, that was definitely Bodie. And he definitely spent the night. And he definitely made me pancakes this morning.”

  Her cheeks flushed, and she giggled. “God, he’s such a fucking catch, Pen.”

  I eyed her. “Why are you so happy?” I scanned her face and body and lit up. “You got laid!”

  Her blush deepened. “No, I didn’t.”

  This time, I pointed. “Oh my God, you did! You got nailed! Finally. I was worried your junk was gonna dry up. All dust bunnies and mothballs and shit,” I said, wagging my hand at her nethers.

  Another eye roll. “You are such a drama queen. We’re talking about you and Mr. Math. Penny, he spent the night. Like, what the fuck does that even mean?”

  I shrugged and drew a little circle on the table with my finger. “It means I got pancakes and morning sex.”

  “Don’t do that. I’m serious. This is a big deal.”

  “I know, but we’re not … I dunno. Calling it anything. We’re just letting it be what it is,” I said simply.

  “And how long do you think that’ll last?”

  I chuffed, my emotions bubbling and steaming and hissing with uncertainty and anxiety. “God, why are you being such a dick about it? I don’t know what it is. I just know that I like him. I like him a lot. I want to be around him all the time, and I want to tell him stuff and let him sleep in my bed. And the whole thing freaks me the fuck out without you on my ass, so maybe just lay off a little.”

  Her face softened. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I just … I want you to be happy and okay, and I’m a little scared for you.”

  I sighed and sagged in my chair. “Me too. Ronnie, I don’t know how to do this. Like, I have no chill when I really like a guy.”

  “In fairness, the last guy you really, really liked was in high school.”

  “And he made me crazy. Courtney Love, rip-down-the-curtains, where-the-fuck-is-my-man crazy. For two years. And through the whole thing, he treated me like shit, and when I lost my mind, he’d just press his finger to my forehead, and I’d calm down and give him whatever the fuck he wanted.” My chest ached at the memory.

  She sighed. “But he was manipulating you.”

  “Fuck yeah, he was. You know, one time, he called me at two thirty in the morning just to say hi. I thought it was so cute and sweet that he was thinking about me, and I asked him where he was. And you know what he told me? That he was at Anna Dorf’s house — that skank. Motherfucker knew I hated her — she had the biggest thing for Rodney and didn’t even pretend to hide it — and he straight-up told me that was where he was. He told me to stop being crazy. So of course, I’m upset trying to figure out if he was fucking with me, and we’re going back and forth, and he’s getting meaner, and I’m getting more and more pissed. And then I heard him ask someone for syrup.”

  “Syrup?”

  “Yeah, because he wasn’t at Anna’s house. He was somewhere getting breakfast food. So I hung up on him. I got dressed and got in my car. There were two places he could get pancakes at that time in Santa Cruz.” I held up two fingers for dramatic effect. “IHOP, where he wasn’t, and House of Pie, where he was. I marched into that motherfucker, stomped over to his table, stuck my finger in his face, and told him never to lie to me about where he was because I’d fucking find him. He looked at me like he was scared to death of me, and he was probably wise to be afraid because I was in a full-blown psychotic break. And just like that, he pulled me onto his lap and laughed and told me he was only joking and that he loved me. The worst part is that by the time he got to the apology or diversion or whatever it was, I wasn’t even mad anymore.”

  Veronica blinked, surprised, and I felt ashamed.

  “I told you. Crazy. Psycho. I don’t want to go psycho on Bodie. I don’t want to wig out and scare him off, but all of this is … it’s happening, and I don’t know if I can even stop it. I don’t want to stop whatever’s going on between us, but I’m scared.”

  The admission spilled out of me, and the truth of it dragged my high down to the bottom of the ocean.

  But Veronica reached for my hand and squeezed it. “Pen, listen, that’s Peggy talking.”

  “Ugh, fucking Peggy!” I groaned.

  “Exactly. She’s trying to sabotage you, but don’t let her. Fuck that bitch.”

  I didn’t respond — I was too busy feeling sorry for myself — so she kept going with more determination.

  “You are the toughest chick I know, and the very last thing I expect from you is to let fear stop you from doing anything. Jump out of the plane, Pen. Because Bodie isn’t Rodney — he’s not going to manipulate you or hurt you, not on purpose. Plus, you aren’t sixteen; you’re twenty-six. You’ve lived and learned, and you can do this. Bodie’s worth the risk even if you fail.”

  I dropped my eyes to the table.

  “You aren’t going to fail.”

  I still didn’t say anything.

  “Okay, how about this? Let’s come up with a … safe word of sorts. If you feel the psycho coming on, you just text me the safe word, and I’ll save you. I’ll be your shot of whiskey. I’ll be your fucking life jacket.”

  I perked up a little. “Maybe that’ll work. Can I pick the safe word?”

  She laughed. “Of course.”

  I smiled as filthy words rolled through my head, but it didn’t feel like a Dirty Sanchez sort of a safe-word situation. “Hmm,” I hummed, thinking. Then I snapped my fingers. “Bear trap.”

  Her eyebrows shifted; one went up, and one went down. “Bear trap?”

  I sat up a little straighter in my seat. “Yeah, like I’m skipping through the forest, minding my own shit, and then — wham. Bear trap. Totally derailed, chew-my-own-foot-off crazy.”

  Veronica chuckled. “I like it. So you just say the word, and I’ll spring the trap so you won’t have to eat off an appendage.”

  I sighed, feeling relieved. “I like this plan. Plans are good.”

  “Plans are great. And you know what?”

  “What?” I asked hopefully.

  She smiled with knowledge and understanding, and I felt a zillion times better.

  “You’re going to be okay.”

  And I was dumb and desperate enough to actually believe her.

  14

  #THINGSTHATARELIES

  Bodie

  Phil shook his head and pushed away from his desk. “I can’t fucking figure this out, man.”

  I rubbed my bleary eyes with the pads of my fingers and rolled over so I could see his monitor, scanning the code, looking for errors.

  “Here.” I tapped the screen. “You divided by zero, and it’s terminating.”

  Phil groaned. “I’m so tired. We can’t keep going on like this.”

  I nodded. “Look, we’ll get caught up tonight if we can keep our shit together. And tomorrow, you can sleep all day.”

  Angie appeared behind him with a plate of brownies, her big brown eyes shining. “Sounds like it’s time for a break.”

  “Oh, sweet,” Jude said, leaning over to swipe one. “Man, I’m starving,” he said with his mouth full.

  “Maybe we could order another pizza,” Phil offered.

  I glanced around at our desks — a graveyard of plates, coffee cups, napkins, and empty cans of Red Bull. “We had pizza yesterday.”

  “And the day before,” Jude added.

  Angie lit up. “Let me make you guys dinner.”

  Phil rested a hand on her hip. “You don’t have to do that, babe.”

  She shrugged and smiled. “Oh, I don’t mind. I’ll make something easy. How does spaghetti sound? I’ll run down and grab a salad and some French bread too, and make it extra fancy with sausage instead of beef.”

  My mouth watered at the thought. “So much better than pizza. You’re an angel, Angie.”

  She blushed and waved a hand, giggling; the sound was like tinkling bells. All
three of us smiled back at her.

  Jude jerked a chin at Phil. “You picked a good one, Philly.”

  Phil just smiled.

  I ran a hand over my face as I yawned, hoping I could stay up for another eight to twelve hours so we could get back on schedule. We were less than a week from the meeting, and the demo was so close to being ready. We just needed to spend the next week spit-shining it and working out the kinks.

  And honestly, Jude had the most work cut out for him, getting the graphics where we wanted them. Because graphics would be the first thing that would sell it. Then story, then usability. And we were ambitious enough to want all three to be of such quality, there would be no way they could tell us no.

  My phone rang from my desk, and I picked it up, smiling at a photo of Penny and me, a selfie we had taken at the wedding.

  I hadn’t seen her since I burned her pancakes two days before. And I hated the eight to twelve hours that stood between us.

  I answered and sat back in my chair. “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself,” she said on a laugh. “How’s it going in the cave?”

  “None of us have showered in days, we’ve had pizza for the last three meals, including breakfast, and our coffeepot has had hot to warm coffee in it for forty-eight hours straight.”

  “So, productive?”

  “Very. We’re almost caught up.”

  “Thank God. I miss you.”

  “I miss you too,” I said, warmth spreading through my chest.

  Jude flapped his hands and made kissy faces at me. I turned my chair so he was behind me.

  “What are you up to?” I asked.

  “The usual — just working a lot, thinking about you. You know, normal stuff. Can I see you tonight?” She was nervous and hopeful and a little cagey, and it broke my heart.

  “I wish I could. We’re right on the edge of the deadline, and it’ll take us until the middle of the night, I’m sure.”

  “Oh. Okay. I figured, just had to ask.”