Teacher's Pet
Reassured that Penn hadn't gotten me completely out of his system, I stepped back and flipped my hair. "Too bad. I was willing to give you a private show."
I tried to walk away, but Penn tugged me back. "What are you trying to do to me?"
I blinked and tried for Ginny's wide-eyed innocent look. "What do you mean? I'm just trying to be nice."
"Nice?" Penn's voice was gravelly, his lips just inches from mine. "I have a conference call in five minutes. Nice would be leaving me some use of my brain before I go to work."
I broke his embrace and stepped back. "Well, lucky for you, you got me out of your system. Good luck with work."
Penn growled and caught me back against his chest. He brushed my hair aside and leaned down to speak into my ear. "Stop pretending, Corsica. Just tell me what you want."
I twisted to face him. "I'm not pretending. And for the first time in a long time, I'm not limiting myself to what I want."
"I wish that were true," Penn said, the air squeezing out of his voice. "God, how I wish that were true."
"Why don't you ever believe me?" I arched back to stare him down.
Penn ground his teeth. "I can't believe you because I can't figure out what you want. I can't understand what you actually love. I don't understand you at all."
I walked my fingers back up his chest and tangled them in his beard. Then, I pulled his dark eyes close enough that I could see the gold flecks ignite.
"I want to be happy. I want to sing on that small stage with that heavenly jazz combo again. I want to see the audience smiling, to know their hearts are swelling like mine when the chorus comes. I want to lie back in the quiet night and see the stars above me. And you beside me."
"Beside you?" Penn asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.
"You know what I love?" I asked, my lips almost brushing his. "I love that when I'm with you, I don't want anything but you."
Those words seemed to chase every other sound out of the room. We stood there locked in a vacuum until my lungs screamed for air. I was holding my breath, hoping that Penn would answer me in kind.
Then his phone rang. "The conference call," he rasped.
I let go and stepped back, but his hand closed around my wrist in an iron grip. "Wait," Penn said. "It's my mother. She just got out of her appointment."
I only heard one side of the conversation, and Penn's responses were mostly monosyllables, but his expression was loud and clear. I forgot about teasing him, forgot about the interview I turned down, and forgot about all the wild hopes I had for my future.
"Is she okay?" I asked when Penn hung up his phone.
"She wouldn't say, but her voice sounded strange." Penn blinked and wrapped an arm around me. "She wants us to meet her at Pinnacles as soon as possible. My father's on his way with his helicopter."
I slipped my arms around Penn's waist and squeezed him tight. "There are going to be ups and downs. It doesn't mean the fight is over. Don't worry until Alice has told you everything."
Penn pressed his forehead to my hair. "She sounded so faint. My mother has never sounded faint in her life."
I pressed my cheek to his chest and hugged him closer. "Don't worry before you know everything. You have every reason to still be hopeful."
Penn's muscles were jittering as if he was trying to hold himself together and the strain was too much. "Were you hopeful right up to the end?" he asked in a breaking voice.
I nodded against his chest and squeezed my eyes tight. I drove away the final images I had of my mother and pictured her in her Sunday dress on our sunny front steps. That memory of her all bright and beautiful helped me answer his question.
"I kept my hope right up to the end because it was all I had. And it helped. It really did, Penn. Don't give up," I whispered.
He held me, one hand smoothing over my hair, and we comforted each other. Then the front door slammed, and we both jumped. Xavier stormed down the stairs before we could untangle from each other's arms. When I saw his face, I held fast to Penn.
Xavier looked dead pale except for his bloodshot eyes. He blinked hard to chase away the remaining tears, and his jaw clenched. "Did your mother call?" he bit out.
"Yes," Penn said, "but she didn't tell me anything. What did she tell you?"
"Nothing. Goddamn, I need a drink." I started forward, but Xavier held up two hands. "I haven't touched a drop, but it's making me feel like tearing my skin off."