“So, why aren’t you fucking this guy?” Amy asked.
“Amy!” I groaned.
“Seriously, Nat. I don’t get it. Look at him!”
And I did. I really, really did. Because dear fucking god, it wasn’t even just that he was gorgeous—because he was. It was that he had given up a day of writing to make my sister feel better. He was in the fountain in the beginning of October, probably freezing his ass off in the water. He was doing all of this…for what? For me? I didn’t have an explanation. At least not one that made sense to me.
“I know,” I finally said.
“I mean, you’re here for another month, right?”
“Pretty much.”
“I think a month of really hot, casual sex sounds incredible.”
“Amy, I can’t.”
“Why not?” she hissed at me, turning the camera to video and calling at them, “You need umbrellas!”
“Ahh! We need umbrellas!” Melanie said through her laughter.
“You know why not,” I hissed back at her. “Our history.”
“Just think about it, Nat. You’d get that for a month.”
And oh, now, I was thinking about it.
I thought about it when they got out of the fountain and when we went back up to his apartment and as we got dressed to go out clubbing that night. Thank god Amy had something I could wear and Melanie and I had the same size feet.
Penn Kensington had gotten under my skin.
He’d crawled beneath the surface, and there was nothing I could do about it.
I thought he was hot. I clearly remembered how good he had been in bed. I even realized that everything that had happened that night so long ago wasn’t a lie. But I never really gave him the benefit of the doubt that he could have actually changed. That he wasn’t just some affluent manwhore looking to get his dick wet.
Up until this point, I’d had no reason to believe that he wanted me for anything more than sex. But today seemed…different. In his element, in his city, he was the king, lord, master, ruler of all. And still…funny, kind, and down to earth. It was a conundrum.
One I didn’t know how to face.
“Ready?” Penn asked, appearing in the doorway to the guest bedroom.
“Yep.” I pulled my hair over one shoulder. “Where are you taking us again?”
“Club 360. It’s a rooftop bar on top of a Percy hotel.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Camden Percy is hardly my favorite person.”
“Join the club. But 360 is the best that money can buy. So, that’s where we’re going.”
“Oh my god,” Melanie said, veering out of the bedroom in a skintight blood-red dress. “Did you say Club 360?”
Penn nodded.
“Celebrities go there. It’s on Page Six all the time.”
“You do know that Penn is kind of a celebrity, right? His mom is the mayor.”
Melanie waved her hand at him. “Yeah. But, like, fashion icons. I can’t wait!”
She ran back down the hallway and called out Amy’s name. As if Amy cared about fashion icons. The woman who liked poor, starving artists.
“You’ll be able to get her in?” I asked hesitantly.
He just smirked. “I’m Penn Kensington.”
“Right. Ye who opens doors.”
“Shall we?” he asked, dramatically bowing at the waist.
“Who are you?” I couldn’t help but ask. It was part-joking and part-serious.
My eyes bored into him, trying to discover the secrets buried down deep. Who exactly was Penn Kensington?
He straightened and opened the door. “Why don’t you stick around and find out?”
I arched an eyebrow but didn’t respond as Amy and Melanie filed out. We took a cab to Percy Towers, and good to his word, Penn whisked us straight to the top of the building and into Club 360. Everyone already apparently knew who he was and didn’t care how old the three beautiful women he was escorting inside were. Melanie, to her credit, sauntered inside like she owned the place. All long legs, dancer’s grace, and confidence.
Amy shook her head. “She is going to be a hellion when she goes to college without a boyfriend.”
“Tell me about it. I don’t know how my parents keep up.”
“I’m pretty sure they’ve resigned themselves to Melanie’s over-the-top personality and expensive tastes.”
“Tastes they can’t afford.”
Amy shrugged. “Doesn’t seem to stop her.”
“No, it doesn’t.” I pulled Amy into a hug. “Thanks for coming. I know this isn’t your scene.”
“Well, I thought that I’d be lying on a beach all weekend with my bestie, but, eh, I’m with you. That’s all that matters.” Amy glanced around the glitzy locale. “I do wish there were at least a few artsy types here. In Paris, you get them at these sorts of places.”
“Ah, Paris, where a girl can have a different deadbeat artist every night.”
Amy sighed. “Living the life.”
“I love you. Let’s do some shots.”
Penn touched my elbow and leaned into me. The music was already loud enough that Amy and I had to raise our voices, but Penn just put his lips against the shell of my ear. I shivered all over at the touch.