Page 72 of Rival Season
The emcee goes through several more questions, and I know the answers to all of them. Ally is amazed because she’s never heard of half of the movies.
When the emcee announces the next category I’m relieved. “Next up we have capital cities! I hope you’ve all brushed up on your geography.” He chuckles.
Penn groans from beside me. One of his arms is draped across the back of my chair, so I lean back until we’re touching. Penn looks down at me. “You might be slightly older, but at least you’re not dumb like me.”
My stomach tightens at the way he’s talking about himself. Penn Matthews might be a lot of things, but he is certainly not dumb. Sure, he and the guys have a silly sense of humor and joke around a lot, but Penn is more emotionally intelligent than any man I’ve ever met. And that counts for so much more than being able to answer stupid trivia questions.
I reach a hand up and cup his jaw. “You are so far from dumb, Penn. Don’t talk like that.”
He closes his eyes, leaning into my touch, but he doesn’t say anything.
Sure enough, the first five questions are about various state capitals in the U.S. I know all of them, but Ally, Noah, and Fisher also answer them all easily. Right when we’re getting bored of how easy this category is, the emcee switches things up.
“Okay that was too easy! Let’s try this one. What’s the capital of Uruguay?”
My head falls back with a laugh. “I don’t have a clue about that one.”
“Miss Smarty Pants finally doesn’t know something?” Penn teases.
Fisher writes down a random word but it’s totally wrong.
“All right, that was clearly too challenging.” The emcee chuckles after every team gets it wrong. “Let’s stay in North America. What’s the capital of Canada?”
Everyone at our table turns and looks at Penn, and I love the smile that stretches across his face. “You guys don’t know this…do you?”
Ally, Fisher, and Noah all shake their heads from side to side. Penn glances at me, and I laugh. “I’m embarrassed to admit I don’t know this, either. This one’s all you, Playboy.”
He grabs the board and writesOttawain big letters, a confident smirk plastered on his handsome face. Penn holds up the board, and of course, his answer is correct. We all erupt into cheering and clapping for him, and he laughs. “It doesn’t count because it was about Canada, but at least I can finally say I got a trivia answer right!”
I lean in and kiss his stubbled jaw, unable to hold back. “It counts. You’re smart, Penn.” He reaches a hand behind my neck and pulls me close before pressing his lips against mine.
“You make me feel smart,” he says when he pulls back, his beaming smile tugging at my heart.
The affection in his eyes takes me by surprise, and before I can stop myself, I press my mouth to his again. He hums as he kisses me back, and I soak up his scent, his touch, the overwhelming feeling of being desired…I’ll soak it up for as long as I can.
CHAPTER 27
PENN
“Come on in, it’s open!”Hazel calls, and I ease through the door of apartment 2B. I love that we are at that stage of our relationship where we’re walking into each other’s places. It’s familiar. Comfortable. Like it’s always been this way.
As I step inside, I’m instantly greeted with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sounds of clanking silverware…but the first thing my mind registers is Hazel. My eyes are drawn immediately to her like she’s magnetic. She’s standing at the kitchen counter with her back to me, silhouetted by the Sunday morning sunshine streaming through the window. I take a moment to admire her. She’s barefoot and wearing plaid pajama pants and an oversized hoodie that I recognize as mine. Her curly hair hangs loose down her back, and she shimmies her hips in time to a Shania Twain song playing from her phone as she slices a strawberry.
She looks completely in her element—happy, content, and cute as hell. All I want is to go and wrap my arms around her. To walk up behind her, pull her close, and feel the way her back would tuck perfectly against the front of my body. But an action like that would be too familiar; would almost feel more intimate than our kisses. This fake—but maybe not fake—relationshipstuff gets more confusing by the day. I’m not sure where the boundaries are anymore, but I do know I don’t want to cross them without consent.
“Good morning,” I murmur as I walk up beside her and wrap an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a friendly side hug that seems safe.
Hazel leans her head against my shoulder, exhaling a happy little sigh that makes me wish I would’ve gone for the full hug. She sinks into the side of my body and embraces me with her left arm like she missed me as much as I missed her. I left yesterday morning for LA, where we played—and lost—an away game before flying back late last night. It’s only been a couple of days since I’ve seen her, but it felt way longer. She turns her head to peek up at me. “Welcome back! I thought you’d be hungry, so I made us both acai bowls.” As if on cue, my stomach rumbles, which makes her smile. “I thought right, apparently.”
“You know me well.” I pull back and jump up to take a seat on the counter next to where she’s working. She has two white bowls piled high with fresh fruit, granola, and chia seeds. I reach for a strawberry slice, but she slaps my hand away.
“Manners, Playboy,” she mock-scolds me. “We’re going to eat at the table, not straight from the cutting board like barbarians.”
“I thought you were into barbarians,” I say with a wink, sliding off the counter and placing my hands on her waist to tickle her.
She squeals and moves to duck out of the way, but I hold onto her arm and spin her around ’til she’s facing me. Hazel goes still, looking up at me with those gorgeous eyes, and then she surprises me by planting a hand in the center of my chest and kissing me.
Surprised but thrilled she took the initiative, I wrap both hands around her waist and pull her body against mine like I wanted to all along.
