Page 26 of Somebody To Love

“Penny, wait.”

But she didn’t. She flung open his office door and rushed out faster than he could blink. He started to run after her and explain…hell if he knew what. But he stopped when he realized he was sporting major wood. The night was already outrageous enough. No need to add running through a bar full of people—including his siblings—with a very obvious erection.

Damn it all to hell!

He turned, heading back into his office instead, slamming the door. Pacing over to his desk, he placed his palms on the top and tried to figure out what in the world had just gone on. He had no idea. The mix of emotions rolling through his body right now did nothing to help. He was worried, upset, and horny all at once. And he had no idea what to do about it or Penny.

CHAPTER 12

Vodka made people do a lot of stupid things; dance topless on a bar, call their ex, post idiotic things on social media…kiss their best friend!

“Oh, crap on toast!”

Penny smacked her head on the table for the fifth time that morning. Every time she thought of last night, her face heated, along with other, more intimate body parts. What the heck had she done? How she wished she could blame it on the booze, but she only had one drink. True, she didn’t drink very often, but even she wasn’t that much of a lightweight. Everything would be much better if she were.

BJ might have started the kiss, but she’d jumped in with both feet. Come to think of it, she distinctly remembered copping a feel of her BFF’s luscious backside and giving it a very appreciative squeeze.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid, Penny!” Each condemnation punctuated with a sharp smack. She’d give herself a migraine at this rate.

Good. Something else to focus on so she didn’t have to think about how she KISSED HER BEST FRIEND!

Last night her brain had done a giant error 404: intelligence not found. She hoped BJ hadn’t changed his mind about the donation after her pathetic jump-his-bones lip lock. But who could blame her? Bravo Jackson had kissed her. Her! Penelope Williams. Nerd extraordinaire. Dateless wonder till she was twenty-two. Member number one of the all-brains-no-boobs club.

He didn’t seem to mind your lack of assets last night.

Point one for her brain. If she remembered correctly, BJ had been very enthusiastic in his journey toward her breasts. Good thing he hadn’t gotten a good hold of them, or he would realize she’d been wearing a push-up bra since senior year. Not merely for vanity’s sake. Stupid clothing companies didn’t believe grown women could still sport an A cup. She’d had a heck of a time finding tops that didn’t gape without some help from a little extra padding.

Worse than kissing BJ would have been him finding out she still essentially stuffed like a pre-pubescent middle schooler.

“I can’t believe I kissed BJ.” Her empty kitchen didn’t reply. It also didn’t answer the burning question that had been eating away at her ever since she ran out of Jacks like her butt was on fire…

Why the hell had BJ kissed her?

Had he wanted to shut her up? Make her feel better? Prove a point?

As high as her IQ was, she simply could not figure out the very odd and totally out of left field actions of her best friend.

Not so far out of left field.

Okay, if she was being totally honest with herself, she had noticed a…shift in their dynamic ever since this baby stuff came up. But that didn’t mean BJ suddenly had the hots for her. Maybe he just wanted to make her feel like a desirable woman. Since she’d been blubbering about her ex. If that was the case, it had worked. Holy flipping cow, did it ever!

She pondered the motives of last night, going over every detail in her head. A sharp knock on the door shattered the morning silence of her apartment. Penny didn’t have many friends. She couldn’t remember the last time someone from her family visited her at her place, and she hadn’t ordered anything lately. There could only be one person on the other side of the door.

“Penny? You awake?”

She smacked her head on the table one more time as the deep rumble of her best friend—and the man she’d most recently tongue-tangoed with—sounded through the thick wooden door.

“Coming,” the word croaked out past dry lips. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m coming.” There, that sounded better.

Calmer. Not like she was internally freaking out. She hoped.

“BJ,” she said, pasting on a bright smile as she opened the front door. He stood there in dark, faded jeans that clung to his muscular thighs. A dark blue t-shirt with the Colorado state symbol on it made his impossible blue eyes stand out even more. His hair had been swept up in his standard manbun today. Tiny flyaway strands blew at his temples in the slight air-conditioned breeze of her complex’s hallway, reminding her how soft they had been when she had her hands full of them last night. Dang it! Did he have to look so darn yummy? “Hey, what are you doing here?”

Please don’t let him say he came here to talk about last night.

He lifted a hand to reveal a green canvas bag dangling on two fingers. “It’s Sunday.”

Right. On Sundays they went to the farmer’s market together. How had she forgotten?

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