Page 128 of The Shake Off

“Where’s Murray?”

“He’s meeting us there, and he’s under strict instructions not to blab to Penn,” she replied, and picked up a magazine I’d been reading and flicked through it.

“He’d better be.” I didn’t add that he was probably as scared of Kit as Penn was.

I went back to curling my hair in silence. As I was running my fingers through the fat waves and separating them, I caught Kit frowning in the mirror’s reflection.

“What?”

She looked to the bedroom door. “I dunno. I think I heard the buzzer.”

I reached over, switched off the music, and we both waited. A second later, the buzzer went again.

“Are you expecting anyone?”

I shook my head. “No, it’ll be Mrs. Kellerman. She always picks up my mail by accident and then brings it down.”

“I’ll get it, I haven’t seen her in ages. You finish deciding what to wear.” She wagged her finger at me and ran off, like I hadn’t already told her a million times what I was wearing.

Jeans, sneakers, and my Lions t-shirt.

I looked down at the bed, where Ace’s official Lions shirt was neatly laid out with his name and number on the back. I’d bought it two days ago, after I’d come up with my plan to attend today’s game against The Phillies, but I couldn’t quite find the courage to wear it.

I might be putting myself on the line agreeing to see where things could go between us, but I also knew we hadn’t spoken in ten days, and the last thing I’d done was yell at him. I mean, the last thing if you didn’t include the vomit situation, because, like a normal human being, I was trying my hardest to pretend it never happened.

I was buttoning up my jeans when I heard voices that didn’t sound anything like my eighty-year-old upstairs neighbor, and stopped what I was doing to listen.

No, that definitely wasn’t Mrs. Kellerman.

I yanked my t-shirt over my head from the sudden annoyance causing me to forget about how perfectly I’d set my hair, and stormed out to the living room to find Kit in a standoff.

I wasn’t sure what was funnier – Penn looking wholly uncomfortable, not to mention scared of Kit, or the annoyance on Kit’s face, with her arms rigid across her chest and her foot tapping, which was never a good sign.

Lowe was standing slightly further away, nearer the kitchen, but I think that was only so that Penn couldn’t use her for protection. It was probably why the giant bunch of yellow roses he was holding gave the appearance of a very colorful and beautifully scented bulletproof vest.

Lowe and Penn’s eyes shot to me as the floorboard creaked under my steps.

“Look, Pay,” Kit drawled without turning around. “Mr. Baseball himself has come for a visit.”

I swallowed hard because I didn’t want to crack a smile and give the impression Penn wasn’t sitting in the number one position on my shit list, because he was. But Kit and Penn arguing always amused me, because she was the only person I’d ever met he seemed to be wary of. In the end, Lowe was the one who stepped forward first, crossing the room and pulling me into a big hug.

“I’m so sorry, Payton. I didn’t know about any of this. I’m so sorry. I wish you’d told me when it happened. I would have marched him around here sooner.”

“Thanks.” I offered her a smile, though my eyes narrowed at Penn. “It’s not your fight though, and I didn’t want to involve you. This isn’t personal, right Penn?” I shot at him, and caught Lowe cringing from the corner of my eye. “How’d you find out?”

“My idiot husband told me what he’d done last night,” she gritted out and Penn received another dirty look, which made the girls three for three, before Lowe turned back to me. “It’s indefensible, but in his defense, he feels awful.”

“As he should,” snapped Kit, removing the flowers from Penn’s hand. “I’ll put these in water.”

Without the flowers to protect him, Penn stiffened another degree and stepped closer to Lowe, who rolled her eyes as she muttered under her breath.

The three of us stood in silence.

“Those flowers are for you,” Penn spoke finally. “Yellow roses mean friendship.”

“I know,” I replied, and crossed my arms as Kit had done, though not quite as aggressively.

“Right. Of course, you do.” He looked at his feet, and as much as I wanted to enjoy this weirdly nervous Penn Shepherd, I’m not sure I liked it one bit. It felt like the equilibrium was off.

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