Page 77 of Penny & Royce

Penny opened her mouth, but he held up a hand and muttered, “No. I’ve got a question for you. And I don’t want to hear anything else until you answer it.”

She gaped at him, unable to find the words to retort as he brushed past her and entered her apartment. Flustered, she shut the door and spun to face him. “Mathew, what?—”

“Tell me the truth, Penny. Who are you dating?”

If he knew, why was he asking?

At least he didn’t know she was married. This confrontation would be so much worse if he knew that little detail.

“Mathew—”

“Who are you dating?”

She swallowed and wrapped her arms around herself. “No one.”

His expression tightened. “Don’t lie to me.”

Her eyes snapped up to meet his. Technically, she wasn’t lying. But she couldn’t exactly tell him that.

“His name is Royce.”

He shut his eyes, and his nostrils flared. “Royce…”

“Meyers.”

He muttered something under his breath, then opened his eyes and stared at her like he was trying very hard to stay calm. “Penny, please tell me you’re joking.”

She didn’t.

There wasn’t anything she could say because this was as real as it got.

“Penny.”

“How did you find out?” she whispered.

“How—” He shook his head and gripped his hair. “How? Aiden asked about your boyfriend. Wanted to know how you were doing after you came in the night of Jason’s wedding.”

It was Penny’s turn to be shocked. “Aiden… as in…”

“Yeah, the guy I work with. He saw you at the hospital. He said your boyfriend was in bad shape—that he got in some kind of motorcycle accident.”

She nodded, but her gaze had shifted to the floor.

The way she’d acted that night had been reckless. Anyone could have seen them. Anyone could have heard the way she spoke to him. There would be no denying they were a great deal more familiar with each other than anyone was supposed to know.

That dread returned with a vengeance, turning her whole body cold. In the back of her mind, she registered the telltale signs of her anxiety attack coming on. The nausea. The shaky breath. The need to run to the bathroom before she lost the contents of her stomach all over her living room.

“Penny, are you listening to me?”

She lifted her head slowly. Mathew was slightly out of focus, and she reached for the back of the couch to hold herself steady. “What?”

“You have to break up with him before Uncle George?—”

“No,” she whispered.

“What?”

“No.” This time, she said it firmer, with a conviction she didn’t think she was capable of. “I know why Uncle George hatesthat family. I probably have more details than you. And I still think it’s ridiculous.”