Page 118 of The Mash Up
I wait at the bar behind girls dressed in matching floral jumpsuits until Penn catches my eye and politely asks them to let me through. They step aside, and I drop my elbows onto the bar in front of him, resting my chin in my hands.
“Excuse me, sir. One cup of your finest meat soup, please. Extra-hot.”
He leans against the bar, matching my posture, a twinkle in his eye as his gaze meets mine. Although, to be fair, that might be the reflection of my body glitter.
“Sorry, miss,” he says. “No meat soup tonight. We only serve it on weekdays that don’t end iny. But may I interest you in some rum?”
I shake my head, solemn. “My rum days are behind me. Perhaps a lap dance?”
Penn grins and bends forward to kiss me, and when he pulls back, I smile, wondering how I got so lucky. Wondering, as I do so often, what actually happened to make this dream come true.
He rounds the bar and takes my hands, lifting them to survey my outfit again. “Not gonna lie.” He shoots me a suggestive look. “I’m pretty into this outfit, Ruby.”
Even now, still, the low tenor in his throat when he says my name—it buckles my knees.
I do a little shimmy. “You should see me on skates. I’ve still got moves.”
“Oh, yeah?” He nods at the pairs lined up on the far end of the bar. “Maybe we should take those for a spin after closing.”
“Me? Yes. But you? No. Sorry, Pennjamin. Nobody deserves to see that.”
“Such a menace,” he hisses, pressing his forehead to mine.
We kiss, and the song changes, the shimmery opening notes of “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now” blaring through the bar.
Penn pulls away and laughs. “Ryan queued up quite the playlist.”
“A little much,” I agree. “But that’s kind of what I’m into these days.”
His lip quirks. “What else are you into?”
“You. In these jeans.” I found a pair of men’s bell bottoms and glued a holographic stripe of ribbon along each side. And I may or may not have purposely sized down.
“Good,” Penn says. “Because I plan to wear them all season. They’ll pair well with my flannels, don’t you think?”
“As long as you leave the top buttons undone,” I add. “The chest hair is crucial.”
He laughs again, my favorite sound, then takes my hand and leads me to our table. While everyone settles in, I sneak away and head back to the bar to visit Theo, returning with a tray of bad ideas.
“This round’s on me,” I announce, handing out shot glasses.
“Whoa.” Ryan nudges Ethan. “You know it’s a big night when my sister buys tequila.”
Bridget claps. “Here! We! Go!” With a wide grin, she says, “Happy birthday!”
I glance around at all the loves of my life as we clink our glasses together. After we throw back the shots, I lean in to Penn and say, “Promise you’ll carry me home?”
He tilts down to whisper in my ear. “I’d carry you anywhere.”
I flush, warm from Penn’s words, and from the horrifically cheap tequila burning inside my chest, and as everyone laughs, I think:This. This is where the magic lies.
Because I believe in it now, life’s magic.
Time and time again, it’s led me to exactly where I’m meant to be.
