Chapter 3
Natalie
Penn’s fingers reached for the satin ribbon of my mask, but I held him back.
“Not yet,” I breathed.
A question lingered on his lips. I wanted to answer that question. The one that said we didn’t need to wait. He’d already found me.
But there was a sensuality…and anonymity to the mask. It made me daring. It brought me back to the giddy feeling I’d had when I was young and innocent and sitting on top of the world. I needed that tonight. I needed it now and every night after if I hoped to survive the Upper East Side.
“Later,” I assured him.
“Now,” he said, stealing another kiss.
I indulged in the sweet taste of him. “Make it worth my while.”
His hand slipped into mine. Our fingers laced together.
“Then let’s get out of here.”
I didn’t have to nod. He could read the answer in my eyes.
Yes.
We glided out of the party as quickly as I’d come. I had no concept of time. Only that the city was packed with New Year’s Eve revelers, spanning out from Times Square and filling the already-crowded streets. Penn flagged down a cab. If I’d been in anything other than a one-of-a-kind Elizabeth Cunningham and Christian Louboutin heels, then I would have said we could brave the walk to his place on the Upper East Side. But it seemed pretty impossible at this point.
The cab crawled inch by inch through the traffic and away from the mayhem. Away from the center of the Big Apple and the ball that would drop in front of the entire world. For years as a girl, I’d stay up late with my sister, Melanie, and later Amy to watch the musical talent and celebrities grace the stage. Now, I was in New York City for the spectacle, and I had no interest in being surrounded by a mass of people in the freezing cold.
Everything looked more glamorous through a lens. The reality was much more lackluster. Like finding out your idol was just a person after all. Making all the same mistakes you’d always made.
“Finally,” Penn muttered once the cab stopped in front of his apartment.
He paid the outrageous fare and then helped me out of the cab. My nerve wavered for a split second. The last time I’d been at his place, I’d found myself there after an argument with Lewis. It should have been one of the many clues that Penn and I couldn’t escape each other. Even when we hadn’t been expressly sexual, I’d still gone to him. He’d provided a means of safety. A circle of trust. Or at least, a semblance of it.
But I couldn’t stop now. And, frankly, I didn’t want to.
There was a reason I’d come here that night. There was a reason I was here now. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure where all of this was heading. I wasn’t sure if I was even ready to make the next move. But I’d be lying to him and myself if I said that I didn’t want something. Despite the anger and pain…I still wanted to find out what that was.
We took the elevator up to his penthouse suite overlooking Central Park. Penn immediately stepped in front of me when it dinged on the top floor.
“Totle!” he called.
And then a ten-pound gray Italian greyhound puppy bounded toward us across the living room. He was all long limbs and awkward proportions. His tail whipped back and forth, and his eyes lit up at the sight of us together.
“I’m going to try to save you from him. He’ll ruin that dress,” he said, snatching up the puppy before he could jump onto me. Penn cradled Totle like an overexcited baby.
“Hey, buddy.” I scratched his head and gave him a big kiss. “You’re just so cute, aren’t you? Is your dad taking good care of you? Or are you deeply neglected and need some time with me?”
Totle answered by licking my face. I laughed and scratched his floppy ears.
“I’m going to take him out real quick. Make yourself at home.”
I nodded and stepped into the apartment while he grabbed Totle’s leash and descended with the puppy. Penn’s place was how I remembered it. Though slightly less messy than the time I had unexpectedly turned up. His worn leather notebook rested on the wooden coffee table next to a fountain pen. His philosophy journal articles had been straightened into a neat pile on the other corner. Nothing was out of place. Which was crazy since he was inherently messy when he was working. He liked to leave coffee cups and whiskey glasses all over the place. Loose paper lying haphazardly across his desk. Books strewn in some order that only his brain could comprehend. Because that brilliant brain of his worked best in a cluttered environment.
For it to be this meticulous, he must have been anticipating taking me home. I’d let him know to meet me at Trinity. A smile quirked on my lips that he’d been so presumptuous. But what could I say? He wasn’t wrong.