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Those Three Little Words (The Vancouver Agitators, #2)(37)

Author:Meghan Quinn

Taters: It pains me to say Posey is right, but he is.

Hornsby: How do you suppose I break it?

Posey: This is Penny Lawes, Hornsby. Not some chick you just met. She lives and breathes hockey, is a master of all things social media, and around anyone else on any other day, she is sweet, funny, and NOT awkward.

Hornsby: So the problem is me?

Taters: Yep, dipshit. But if you’re still lost, it’s called Google. Stock up on questions and ask some. And when she talks, actually listen rather than thinking where you can stick your dick in her.

Holmes: She really is sweet, and listening is key.

Posey: And the not sticking your dick in her is second to the listening.

I’m about to text back when the bedroom door creaks open, and Penny comes in with three suits in hand. When she spots me on the edge of the bed, my shirt undone, she gasps out loud and spins toward the wall where she pins her head against the white surface.

“Oh my God, I forgot to knock. I’m so sorry. You must be horrified.”

I’m really not.

“Penny, you’ve sat on my dick, and I’ve watched you bounce up and down on my lap. Pretty sure walking in on me with my shirt undone is nothing compared to that.”

“Th-That was different,” she says, still shielding herself. “You meant for me to see you naked.”

I exhale loudly. “Can you please just turn toward me?”

Hesitantly, she turns around. That’s when I stand from the bed, walk up to her, and take the suits from her grasp. “We need to learn to live with each other, and acting skittish is not the way to do it. You’re going to see me without a shirt. I like to sleep with it off. Last night, I wore one because I didn’t want to scare you, but it was uncomfortable. I’m sure you’re going to want to walk around in a towel, or well, I don’t know what women do, but I think if we’re going to make this work, we try to act as normal as possible.”

She swallows hard. “I don’t know how to be normal around you without alcohol, and I can’t have alcohol because of Peggy Leggy—”

“Jesus, please don’t call her that.”

“So this is the person you get. Awkward, weird, and someone who steams and cleans when they’re stressed.”

I press my lips together, attempting to figure out how to make this better. Holmes wasn’t wrong. This is Penny. I’ve known her for a few years, and I’ve liked the fuck out of her for just as long. She said I make her nervous, so how can I stop that without alcohol?

“How can I make this better?”

“You can’t. I’m just weird, and this is how I deal with things.”

Right, maybe I can try just talking about all things hockey another night. Tonight is not that night.

“Okay, then, I guess . . .” I look around. “What, uh, what else can we steam? Did you do all of my suits?”

“You don’t want to steam things.”

I really don’t.

I want this nightmare to be over.

I want to be at my house with my favorite sub watching the latest season of Ozark. But instead, I’m in a completely new-to-me apartment trying to navigate the clumsy waters of sharing a space with someone I barely know.

“I don’t have experience in steaming.” Or cleaning, for that matter. “But you can show me. I have some jeans we can steam.”

“You don’t steam jeans.”

“Okay, well, you mentioned my boxer briefs. Do you want to steam those?”

That pulls a smile from her lips, and she finally relaxes her tense shoulders. “I’m actually pretty tired. I think I’m going to get ready for bed.”

“Same.” I clasp my hands together and look around. “Should we, uh, take care of my suits then?”

“Yes.” And then she walks toward her closet, where I hear her hang the ones she just took from me. Without another word, she walks out to the living room and grabs more. Shit. And this is my new fucking normal.

Chapter Nine

PENNY

“Can you stomach a bagel?” Blakely asks while sticking her head through the doorway of my office.

Looking up from my computer screen, I’m relieved this morning’s nausea has subsided, leaving me ready for food.

“Yes, I could really use one right now, actually.”

Bagel bag in hand, she takes a seat across from me in my office, doling out the bagels on the napkins and then setting out the cream cheese and knives. “After your text this morning of suffering over the toilet, I figured I’d grab some food in case you were hungry when you got here.”

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