Page 15 of My Brother's Roommate (Frisky Business 2)
But before I can decide on which task to tackle first, a hollow knock echoes through the empty house, snapping my attention toward the door.
What the hell?
I hold my breath, listening for any other sounds of life. Was it just an animal? I’m certainly not expecting anyone tonight.
When I hear the knocking again, it’s followed by a soft, sweet voice pleading, “Open up, Wolfie. It’s cold out here.”
My chest tightens. I know that voice.
It’s Penelope, which can only mean one thing—I’ve officially lost my mind and started hearing voices. Because there’s not a chance in hell that Penelope Blake just so happened to be in the neighborhood of a tiny West Michigan town.
When I reach the door and tug it open, a pink-cheeked, shivering Penelope stands there staring back at me. Her black wool coat is tied tight around her waist, her honey-blond hair whipping in the wind.
“Hi.” She gives me a big grin, one gloved hand tucking a loose blond strand behind her ear, only for the wind to undo her work. “Can I come in?”
“What are you doing here?” I blurt.
Smooth, Wolfie. Real smooth.
“Thought it’d be the perfect night for a beach vacation.” She laughs at her own joke, a low, nervous laugh. Just the sound of it warms me up more than any amount of whiskey ever could.
“Seriously, though,” she says, her gaze darting between me and her car, which is parked behind mine. “It’s starting to snow. If you don’t want to see me, I can just get back in my car and—”
“No.” I cut her off sharply, stepping out of the doorway and motioning her inside. “I’m sorry. Come in and warm up.”
When she steps around me and enters the house, I scan her from head to toe, still not believing she’s actually here. I follow her into the living room and get her set up on the couch with a gray wool blanket, which wraps twice around her slender frame.
When I’m satisfied that she’s comfortable, I head to the kitchen to find her something hot to drink. After digging around for a minute, I manage to locate a mug and a handful of tea bags from the back of the pantry. By the time I bring a steaming mug of hot tea to her, pleased to see the redness has faded from her cheeks, replaced with her usual glow.
“Hope chamomile is okay,” I murmur, handing it to her.
She looks adorable, all cozied up on the couch, pursing her lips to blow slow streams of air through the steam of her tea. It just makes it that much harder to take my spot all the way on the other side of the couch.
Distance is a good thing right now. I have to remember that.
“So, want to tell me what you’re doing here?”
She lifts a shoulder beneath the blanket, her fingers absently fiddling with the string of the tea bag. “Maren mentioned that you were coming up to winterize the place.”
“That’s true. That’s why I am here,” I say, raising a brow in her direction. “But why are you here?”
“To talk to you,” Penelope says, dodging my gaze. “To apologize.”
She can’t be serious. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“We both know I do,” she says, meeting my eyes. “I shouldn’t have, um, you know, said what I did last weekend. I made you uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” I say, but she doesn’t look like she’s buying it, even if it’s true.
“At the very least, I made things uncomfortable between us.” Her gaze is resolute, like this conversation is as normal as discussing the weather. Her bravery is admirable.
I nod. “Fine. I’ll give you that. You just surprised me is all. It was the last thing I would have ever expected you to say.”
“Why?”
I scratch my jaw. This is where I usually shut this shit down and step away from going too deep into my head. Remember, feelings? Yeah, it’s not my thing, but the way Penelope is looking at me, I can’t help but give her what she wants, even if it makes me uncomfortable as fuck.
“I’m not big on intimacy, and I was shocked that you wanted that with me. I was under the impression for a long time that you weren’t a fan of mine, so hearing you wanted to have sex surprised the fuck out of me. I thought I was just your brother’s friend who was doing you a favor.”
Penelope blushes. “Maybe I’m a better actress than I thought.”
Before I can ask her what that means, she leans forward and sets her tea on the coffee table, pulling the blanket extra snug around her shoulders. “It’s not like I’m looking for a relationship or anything. Just something casual and, well . . .” She widens her eyes, one hand gesturing up and down at me from head to toe. “You look like that, okay? Can you blame me for trying?”
