“Has he texted you since you bolted?”
“Yes.”
“Have you looked at them?”
“Been too afraid.”
She lifts her cup then says, “Read them to me.”
“They’re probably just stupid texts asking where I am.”
Pinning me with her stare, she repeats, “Read them to me.”
Too tired to fight with her, I pull out my phone and unlock it. I click on my messages and on his name. Clearing my throat, I say, “Penny, I’m so sorry. Can you come back so we can talk about this? Where are you? I’m worried. You fell, and I want to make sure you’re okay. I want to make sure we’re okay. Please text me back, Penny. I’m really fucking sorry.” I glance up at my friend and say, “See. He’s predictable.”
But to my surprise, Blakely is sporting an evil grin as she slowly nods her head. “This is perfect.”
“What’s perfect?”
“We have him right where we want him.”
“And where exactly is that? That’s the same sort of thing he always texts. Sorry to say it, but we need to face the facts. I put myself out there, and he rejected me. We need to move on and figure out how to mend this hole that’s burying deeper and deeper in my chest.”
“Sure, he rejected you, but not because he wanted to. There is something . . .” Her eyes widen. “Hold on a second, I have a thought.” She pulls her phone out and starts typing away.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting to the bottom of this.”
“What does that even mean? Are you texting him? I swear to God, Blakely—”
“Cool it. I’m not texting him.” When she’s finished typing, she says, “I have an inkling about why he stopped that kiss.”
“Oh, yeah?” I cross one leg over the other. “And what exactly is that inkling? You’ve been sooo intuitive thus far.”
“It’s obvious that he wants you. I think we all established that.” Still delusional, okay, good to know. “Clearly, he kissed you back and wanted more by the way he gripped you.”
“He could have been falling backward, possibly off-balance from my unwelcomed mouth to mouth. That’s why he gripped me tighter.”
“You and I both know that’s a lie, so cut that out. And from his panic texts, he obviously wants to patch things up with you. We just need to get to the root of all of this.” Her phone chimes with a text message, and she holds her finger up to me. “Hold, please.”
She reads her text and smiles.
“What is it?”
“Bingo,” she says, turning the phone toward me.
Winnie: Yeah, Pacey threatened him not to go near Penny again.
“What?” I seethe, grabbing the phone from Blakely and looking at it closely.
“Just what I thought. All the signs were there. We just had to figure out what was stopping him, and it’s Pacey.”
Humiliation is quickly replaced by rage.
“Where the hell does he get off saying that to Eli?” I ask.
“Well, he’s always said that, but I’m pretty sure he reaffirmed it with Eli once you told him you were pregnant.”
I set the phone on the table. “So what you’re telling me is that my needs aren’t being met because of my brother?”
“Yup.” Blakely smugly breaks off a piece of the cookie that’s on the table. “And now that we know the issue, we set out to break Eli.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“It’s time you get what you want, and that means you drive that man nuts. He wants you. Therefore, make him wish he had you.”
“You mean . . . flirt with him?”
“No, not just flirt, Penny. You need to be comfortable in your own skin, if you know what I mean.”
A light bulb goes off in my head. “Oh . . . I do know what you mean.”
She chuckles. “Show him what he’s missing out on. Accidentally touch him when he’s least expecting it. Have your hand graze him at night. Give him a freaking show.”
The embarrassment I was feeling only moments ago quickly washes away as I think about exactly all the things I could do.
Blakely is right—a scary thing to say. In that small moment, I felt the same level of need from him as I felt on the night of his birthday. The same . . . passion. Desire. If only fleeting. Is Blakely right? Does Eli just need a little—passive-aggressive—nudge?
“This could be fun,” I say.
“Oh, please . . . please make it fun.” She chuckles over her drink as I reach for a piece of the cookie.