Page 67 of If Our Hearts Collide

Or the wall…

Or the table…

Or the mattress…

Or the shower.

I know Penny is fearful of men, but I’d show her great pleasure at the work of my hands. But being with me means pushing limits, as I’m a demanding partner. And I know she would never be ready for all that I’d have to give.

Rolling to her side, she takes in my stance, trailing her gaze up my body until it settles on my eyes. She looks like an angel, and her innocence is even more reason to keep our relationship fucking professional.

Penny is my client.

I am her bodyguard.

Her giggle pulls me back to the present.

I clear my throat. “What are you doing?”

“It’s good luck to make floor angels in a new place. It’s a ritual.”

“I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Oh, I just made it up. But doesn’t it sound fun? Come join me,” she invites.

How do I saynoto that? We’ve been fighting for most of the day, and now that things are finally back to an equilibrium state, why would I want to rock the boat again and risk drowning in drama?

So I comply by lowering myself to the floor, lying opposite of Penny. I wave my arms and legs around, until she’s laughing so hard a snort comes out.

“What?” I ask. “Am I that entertaining?”

“No, I mean yes. But you’re doing it wrong.”

“How so?”

“More enthusiasm. Get passionate. Think drunk quadropus.”

“What’s a quadropus?”

“An octopus but with four tentacles—obviously.”

Her words make my eyes twitch. Penny’s so stinking cute that I’m certain she is unaware of the effect she has on men. But I do what she requests. I lay my head back, and I go all in.

Snap.

Snap.

I lift my head and see Penny’s eyes twinkling with mirth. She clutches her phone to her body, as the realization that she’s taking pictures of me acting a fool come to light.

“Pennnnny…” Her name on my lips takes up more syllables with how I drag it out. She is playing with fire now.

“Hi.”

Hi? Don’t hi me.I sit up and edge toward her. “Delete them.”

Moving to her knees, she scoots backward a few inches. “No.”

“No?”

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