Page 28 of On a Fault Line

“This is from you?”

She props her hands onto her hips. “Who the fuck else would send you a cock cake, Collins? Hmm?”

“Good point.”

Penny trails her finger along the skin-colored icing at the base of the box, gathering chocolate sprinkles. “Look how realistic the hair stubble looks with these chocolate shavings.”

“Genius,” I deadpan.

“It really is.” She pops her finger into her mouth and sucks off the icing. “It’s so good. Let’s cut some slices.”

“Are we going to continue to ignore the question of why this was sent to me?”

“Oh, I sent it.”

“Yes, I know that. We’ve already established that part. But why, Penelope?”

She shrugs. “Oh, because you were being a giant dick.”

“Was I now?”

She nods. “Pretty much.”

“And this is your way of drawing attention to that one moment in time?”

Pulling out her phone from her bag, she snaps of picture of me with my cartoon penis cake before I can protest.

“Oh, I’m sure it was multiple times. You are excessive like that.”

“Am I now?”

She clicks her tongue. “Yup. And this was the most mature of all my options for telling you so. So count yourself blessed. It would have arrived sooner, but the bakery was having supply chain issues. At least I got to see your authentic reaction in person.”

I look at the enlarged eyes made of fondant that are staring at me. And then I do the unthinkable…

I castrate my cartoon replica for the sake of having dessert.

6

PENNY

If there ever was a moment where time sped up, it would be at this point in my life.

Every time the sun sets and rises, I mourn the loss of another day spent with Collins.

He brings a joy to my life that I didn’t know was lacking.

He’s beyond anything my mind could conjure up with words. There’s just no explaining it, and my body certainly can’t deny its magnetic pull toward him. It’s so strong that I sincerely doubt I’ll ever again be able to enjoy a healthy sex life like I have with him thus far.

Bending down, Collins kisses me on the forehead, hovering over me with his rock-solid body.

It’s moments like this, when his clothes are completely discarded, that I’m able to fully comprehend the magnitude of this man. He is gorgeous. Sculpted. Tattooed. And a towering force above me, who I never dreamed would be able to prove to me that not all men are assholes.

Last night he proved that to me, and right now I know he’ll do it again—and continue to do it until I learn the differences between a boy and a man.

Collins is one of the good ones.

I trust him implicitly to not hurt me—even during discipline.

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