Page 11 of My Grumpy Valentine

There’s no way in hell I’m not going to walk her to her door. Even if she sees this as a friendly outing, I’m treating it like what I want it to be. A date. I’m secretly hoping she’ll realize we can share nights like this every day of the week if she could just see me as a potential option.

Right now, she doesn’t look like she wants to see me as anything. From the way her brows pinch together, she looks unhappy.

Did I do something wrong? The drive was quiet. Though, I think we were both lost in our thoughts.

I’ve never had to try to woo a woman before. Normally, they come my way without any effort and melt in the palm of my hand. With Penelope, I’ve always fought the urge to chase after her. Now that Ican, I feel like a newborn calf on wobbly feet. If I take one wrong step, I’ll crash down and look like a fool.

I’m not good at this. Seeing as I didn’t think I could fuck up the very first date, this woman easily humbles me. I’m no longer the man I used to be. I should’ve known better.

Unsure of what’s upsetting her, it’s difficult to know how to begin fixing it. Where do I even start?

As she bites down on her lip and leads me to her apartment, I follow close behind. Her place isn’t too far from the parking lot. From the way she shivers as white puffs of air leave her lips, I’m all but ready to shove her inside her home so she can warm back up.

However, she doesn’t dig out her keys. Instead, she stares at the door.

“Did you forget your keys at work?” I joke, hoping that isn’t the case. Then again, I’d have the excuse to let her stay the night at my place or extend this by driving back to that drive-in.

She remains silent. In just two seconds, she turns to face me. The uncertainty has vanished. The distant gaze in her eyes isnow focused. A look of determination emerges on her face as if she’s resolved something I can’t even grasp.

“Pen?” Barely getting her name out, I watch the way she steps forward. For a moment, I can’t think. Hell, I can barely register what she’s doing before her fingers are grazing my cheeks as she stretches to reach me.

She’s short—she’s always been short—which makes looking at her without being noticed easy. It’s always been a tick on my list of things I love about her.

I’m being an ass by not bending down, but I can’t.I can’t.

I can’t do anything. Not when she’s looking up at me with those wide eyes while pursing those plump lips together. The same lips I’ve fantasized about kissing over and over in my head more times than I can count.

When Penelope realizes how useless I am, she stands up on her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine. It’s hardly a brush, and her lips tremble.

She’s nervous. Why is she nervous?

It’s because I’m not kissing her back.

The air is still. Everyone is either sleeping in the complex, or they share an understanding not to disrupt this moment between us.

Snow crunches beneath my boots as I remember how to use my limbs. The moment she puts an inch between our lips, I’m swooping down for more.

The gasp that leaves her lips when I wrap an arm around her frame to pull her flush against my body is delicious, and I don’t think twice about devouring the sound.

A minute ago, thanks to these cold temperatures, I was freezing. Not anymore. Not when the fire in my chest is growing like someone sprayed gasoline everywhere. Penelope was the match needed to set me ablaze.

Mine.

One word is all it takes to solidify my feelings. This woman is the only one for me; my heart belongs solely to her.

I want to marry her and give her whatever she wants. A kid, for starters. Pen’s always wanted to be a mother.

Look at me planning the future. I should stop before I’m ahead of myself.

It’s hard to do when she’s double-fisting my shirt and keeping me pulled close to her.

The sound she creates when my tongue slides past her eager lips is one that can make a sane man go mad. A low whine that shoots straight to my cock and leaves it pressing against the zipper of my fly. The ache is one worth feeling even more when she lets out a sigh of relief next.

She tastes so fucking sweet and salty from all that popcorn.

I don’t know when I bury my fingers in her hair, but once I realize where they are, I’m tipping her head back to kiss her deeper.

Oxygen is less important than getting my fill in.

---