Page 41 of The Hallows Queen

Me:

on my way

She responds almost immediately.

Penelope:

Bring a blanket

I change into shorts and a black t-shirt, grab a blanket from the hall closet, and then run downstairs to look around for the keys to the Mercedes G-Class my father left here. I find them hanging in the garage with ten other sets of keys that haven’t been touched in months, so once I’ve gathered my weed, cigarettes, wallet, and phone, I unlock the truck and jump behind the wheel.

Rolling down the windows, I press the button to open the garage and light a cigarette. I turn up the radio, check Penelope’s location one more time so I know exactly where to meet her, and pull out of the driveway.

It takes me ten minutes to get out to the beach, and I park on the side of one of the residential streets before I turn the car off, grabbing the blanket from the passenger’s seat and getting out.

The sun has long dropped from the sky, and shadows stretch over the road.

I head down the little makeshift path through the trees that people have stomped into existence, and when I’m on the sand, I kick off my Nikes and pick them up. I can’t see anyone on the beach since it’s starting to get darker, so I just hope I’m in the right place and I’ll stumble upon Penelope.

I find her sitting at the edge of the ocean, her feet in the water and the waves crashing just before her so they rush underneath her body.

Tossing the blanket down in the sand, I empty my pockets onto it and join her, dropping down in the wet sand.

She looks at me and smiles. “Hi.”

I can’t help the smile that pulls up my lips in response. She’s messy again, her dark hair wet and thrown on top of her head in a bun that’s falling down. Her face is makeup-free, and all she has on is a little black bikini. She’s gorgeous, and I want to kiss her.

I clear my throat, stopping myself from touching her. “You don’t text me back all day, and then you randomly send me your location?”

She laughs. “Careful, you’re sounding like that upsets you.”

I lick my lips. “What if I had been busy?”

“Then you wouldn’t have come, and I would have spent the evening out here by myself without caring,” she answers, looking out at the water.

I don’t like how much she doesn’t seem affected by me; it’s making me want to grab her, bend her over, and smack her ass until she confesses that my presence is important to her. I realize I’m gritting my jaw when she looks at me again and concern passes over her features.

“You look mad,” she observes. “Why?”

“I’m not,” I answer, looking away from her and trying to pretend my muscles aren’t tingling with an unfamiliar feeling of possession.

Her hand comes around my face, and she turns my head to look at her again. “Hayden.”

I grin, lifting my brows. “Penelope.”

She smirks back at me, shuffling onto her knees and straddling my waist. My hands find her hips, and she puts both hands on either side of my face.

“Did I say something to piss you off?” she asks, leaning forward to put her nose against mine.

I squeeze the flesh of her hips, breathing through my nose. “No.”

“You don’t like that I said I wouldn’t care if you showed up tonight or not, right?” she muses, humor touching her tone. I don’t say anything, instead I just look into the green of her eyes and stare, waiting for the moment to pass.

She laughs and continues, pulling back to study me. “I told you that you couldn’t handle me.”

I clench my teeth, running one hand up her body to circle the column of her throat. “I think I handle you just fine, Penelope.”

She swallows against my palm. “You’re used to women begging for your time and attention, and you don’t like that I don’t need either from you.”

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