They didn’t go back to Caleb’s house anymore by mutual agreement. Now that Penny had seen it for herself, she could understand why he preferred to spend his time at her apartment.

When they weren’t having sex like it was going out of style, they watched a lot of television together. For someone who didn’t own a TV or even have an internet connection at his house, Caleb seemed to like television an awful lot.

His things started collecting at Penny’s apartment. His toothbrush and deodorant moved into her bathroom. A gargantuan tub of protein powder squatted on her kitchen counter. The second of his hoodies joined the first in her closet, along with several of his shirts. Then on Thursday, he brought his laundry over to use the machines in her building, and now those clothes lived in her bedroom as well. His shirts and jeans hung on her hangers, his underwear and socks occupied the basket which became a semi-permanent fixture in the corner of the room, and his dirty clothes mingled with hers in her hamper.

They seemed to be failing miserably at the no-strings thing.

Not that Penny was complaining—but she’d had serious, long-term relationships that hadn’t moved this fast. Caleb had effectively moved in with her, and the ease and speed with which they’d integrated their lives rattled her whenever she stopped to think about it.

So she chose not to think about it. As a strategy, denial was working pretty well for her.

Penny continued to be astonished by how much she and Caleb had in common. Besides having enough physical chemistry to power the next SpaceX launch, they’d read a lot of the same books, laughed in all the same places at the TV shows they watched, and shared the same political views. She wasn’t just wildly attracted to his body; she actually liked him.

Plus, Caleb knew how to cook and cared about eating healthy. In her previous relationships, balancing her food preferences with her boyfriends’ unhealthy ones had been a perilous minefield that frequently resulted in Penny settling for a dry chicken breast or wilted salad at whatever burger joint or wing place she’d been wheedled into patronizing. But meals with Caleb were an entirely different proposition. Rather than undermining her good habits, he reinforced them.

She’d sworn never to cook for a man again, but cooking with a man was different. They compared favorite recipes, planned and shopped for meals together, and prepared the food side-by-side in her small—but immaculately clean—kitchen. Caleb didn’t just pull his own weight in the kitchen; his proficiency even surpassed hers in some areas. A stint working in the kitchen at Applebee’s had left him with some impressive sous-chefing skills. The man diced onions with a dexterity that was downright sexual.

Penny loved to watch his hands as he worked. The gentle precision with which he held the knife handle as the blade flashed left her lightheaded and drooling. More than once they’d had to put their meal prep on hold while she dragged him into the bedroom.

At present, he was pounding a trio of chicken breasts into submission with a meat tenderizer—which was also weirdly a turn-on—while Penny sliced tomatoes for the caprese salad. The fabric of his plaid shirt pulled tight across his broad shoulders as he worked, and he had the sleeves rolled and pushed up to his elbows. The sight of his forearms tensing as he hammered the meat presented an unfair distraction. Instead of paying attention to where her blade was going, she was ogling the man in her kitchen.

“Fudge nuggets!” Penny exclaimed as the knife cut into her index finger. “Son of a biscuit.”

“Did you cut yourself?” Caleb asked, abandoning his tenderizer to rush to her side. “How bad?”

“It’s fine,” she said, squeezing her injured finger to stanch the bleeding.

“Let me see.”

She pulled her hand back, cradling it against her chest. “You’ve been handling raw chicken.”

“Come on, then.” He nudged her toward the sink with his elbow and washed his hands thoroughly with antibacterial soap before reaching for her. “Put it under the water and let’s see how bad it is.”

It wasn’t too bad, but it was right next to the fingernail and hurt like the dickens. Caleb’s fingertips gingerly prodded the area around the wound as he examined it, and once again Penny was impressed by how gentle his big, rough hands could be.

“No stitches necessary.” He shut off the water and tore off a paper towel that he pressed against her finger. “Hold this in place while I get you a Band-Aid.”

While he headed off to the bathroom in search of first aid supplies, Penny tried to remember the last time someone other than her mother had fussed over her like this, and came up blank. It felt nice to be the one taken care of for a change.

Caleb came back and peeled the blood-soaked paper towel away from her finger, frowning in concentration as he tended her injury. As she watched him, an unfamiliar sensation unfolded in her chest. It expanded, filling up all the empty spaces, and making her feel lighter than air.

I love him.

She’d thought she’d been in love before, but she’d never felt anything like this for any man she’d dated. She’d exchanged I love yous and pictured weddings and children down the road, but she’d never once felt this sort of desperate, possessive urgency. This certainty. This pain.

“You all right?” Caleb asked, peering at her with worried eyes. “You look a little dazed. You’re not phobic about blood, are you?”

She shook her head, too shaken to form words.

“There,” he said softly, kissing her finger once he’d finished wrapping the bandage around it. “All better.”

“My big, strong hero.” She leaned forward to kiss him, her lips lingering on his. Savoring every breath while she still could.

He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close. “You sure you’re okay?” He pulled back to look at her with a frown. “You’re shaking.”

“I guess I scared myself a little.” She tried to give him a reassuring smile.

His eyes crinkled with concern and he reached up to trace a finger over her lips. “You should be more careful.”

She wound her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his chest. “I know.”

Sunday was Mother’s Day, and Caleb had gone back to his house to work out while Penny was at the nursing home. The administrators had planned a party for the residents, and Penny brought cupcakes decorated with pink buttercream roses. Despite the attempt at cheer, it was a melancholy occasion for the mothers whose children hadn’t visited, and others who were remembering mothers who had long since passed.

As soon as it was over, Penny FaceTimed her mother from the parking lot of the nursing home.

“Happy Mother’s Day!” she said when her mother’s face appeared on the screen. Margaret Popplestone was round and soft with short brown hair mostly gone to gray and Penny’s hazel eyes. Her hair was done and she was wearing makeup, but she’d already changed out of her church clothes and into an old T-shirt—one Penny got her five years ago that said I’m silently correcting your grammar. “How was brunch?”

Penny’s siblings had taken Margaret out to a Mother’s Day brunch buffet after church, like they always did. This was the second year in a row Penny had missed it.

Her mother’s face moved out of frame for a moment as she pulled her legs up under her on the couch. “Dana’s baby is teething and Cassie’s oldest dropped her father’s iPhone into the fountain at the restaurant.” The smile that lit her face was absolutely sincere. “It was lovely.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” Penny said.

“Your presence was missed, as always. Have I mentioned lately how proud I am of you for sticking it out in Los Angeles on your own?”

“Not in the last seven days, no.” Penny lowered the phone to rest it on the steering wheel. The angle was dreadful—she probably had four chins from this perspective—but it was too uncomfortable to hold it higher for any length of time.

“Well, I am.” Margaret leaned out of frame again and reappeared with a bundle of knitting. “You took a bad situation and you made lemonade out of it.”

Penny made a wry face. “That’s me. Out here on the West Coast, swimming in sour water.”

Her mother glanced up from the knitting she was arranging over her lap. It looked like it might be a sweater, or possibly a blanket. “Oh, dear. Someone’s got a case of the mopes. What brought this on?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to your mother.” She directed her patented disapproving teacher look at the camera. “Especially on Mother’s Day. You earn triple demerits for that.”

Penny shook her head. “I didn’t call you to complain about my life. Tell me what’s going on with you.”

“You already know what’s going on with me. It’s the same things that are always going on. Now tell me what’s got my baby down in the dumps.”

“A boy,” Penny admitted with a sigh.

Margaret nodded as she arranged the stitches on her needles. “Are you still upset about Kenneth?”

“No, definitely not. I’m way over him. This is someone new.”

“Oh!” Her mother’s eyes lifted in excitement. “A new boy! Do tell.”

“Technically, I’ve known him for a while. I just got to know him recently.”

“Who is he? What’s his name?”

“Caleb. He’s a barista at that coffee shop by my house.”

“Interesting,” her mother said, looking back down at her knitting.

“He’s not just a barista,” Penny said in response to her unspoken critique.

“I wasn’t judging.” She was a little, but Penny let it go.

“He’s about to start medical school. You’d like him, actually.”

Margaret had never liked a single one of Penny’s boyfriends—which, in fairness, had turned out to be justified in every case. She’d never come right out and said so, of course, but Penny could always tell. When her mother disliked someone, she became even more polite than usual. Thank goodness she’d never had a chance to meet Kenneth, or she might have smothered him to death with good manners.

Margaret lifted an eyebrow. “A younger man, eh?”

“He took a gap year, but yeah. A little younger.”

“So what’s the problem with this young doctor-in-the-making? Why does he have you feeling sad?”

“He’s moving away. In less than two weeks.”

Her mother’s lips pursed. “Hmmm. How far away?”

Penny was glad Margaret was knitting. It was easier to talk about it when she didn’t have to look her directly in the eye. “Mississippi.”

“Oh no. That’s fairly dire.”

“It’s where he’s going to med school.” Penny bit her lip. “He told me up front that we only had a month before he left and it would be better not to get involved.”

“And?”

“And I thought I could handle it. I thought I could spend time with him without getting attached.”

Her mother looked into the camera, her head tilted to one side. “Oh, Penny. My sweet girl, you get attached to disposable food storage containers.”

“I liked him, Mom. He’s gorgeous—like seriously, unbelievably gorgeous—and really sweet once you get to know him. And he actually liked me back. I just wanted…” She looked down at her lap, too embarrassed to say the words aloud.

“You wanted to feel liked by a cute boy,” her mother supplied for her. “Particularly after Kenneth bruised your self-esteem, I’d imagine. That’s all right. It’s what rebound relationships were invented for.”

Penny clenched the steering wheel with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone. “That’s what I thought at first, but it’s not like that with Caleb. It’s not like anything I’ve ever felt before.”

Margaret’s sharp eyes shifted to study the digital image of Penny’s face on her screen. “You love him.”

“Yes.” Penny’s shoulders sagged. “I didn’t mean to, it just happened.”

Her mother smiled faintly. “That’s usually how love works.”

“And now he’s leaving and I can’t do anything about it.”

“No.” Her mother’s tone was somber and compassionate. “You can’t.”

“I never should have let myself get close to him. It was a huge mistake.” Penny’s fingers were getting pins and needles from squeezing the steering wheel so hard. She pried them off and shook out her hand to get the blood flowing again.

Her mother clucked sympathetically. “Sometimes you have to follow where your heart leads you.”

“Even if it's headed straight to heartbreak town?”

Margaret shrugged. “A little heartbreak builds character.”

“You mean scar tissue.”

“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to,” her mother said lightly. “No one’s ever died of heartbreak, is my point.”

“Romeo and Juliet did.”

Margaret’s lip curled as she let out a derisive snort. “Romeo and Juliet died from being insufferable idiots. They'd have been much better off if they'd built up a little more scar tissue.”

Penny smiled despite herself. Her mother had always hated that particular one of Shakespeare’s plays—and the fact that it was a required part of the district’s curriculum. “So what you’re saying is it’s actually a good thing I’ve fallen in love with a man I’m going to lose in twelve days.”

Her mother’s expression softened, causing a knot of homesickness to form in the pit of Penny’s stomach. “Love is never a bad thing, sweetheart.”

Penny shook her head to cover her emotions. “As if there were ever any doubts where I get my optimism from.”

“Pfft. I’m a realist, thank you very much,” Margaret said. “I’m not trying to sugarcoat this: it’s going to hurt like the devil. But you’ve got a sensible head and a strong heart. You’ll come through it tougher than you went into it.”

“And tough’s supposed to be an improvement?” Penny asked uncertainly.

“For a sweet soul like yours? Tough is a critical survival skill.”

“What about a going-away party?” Penny asked Caleb that night as they were eating dinner. She was great at planning parties, and it would give her something to focus on besides his imminent departure. A way of building up her armor.

His face twisted into a scowl as he stabbed at his turkey meatloaf. “Hell no.”

“Why not?”

“I hate being the center of attention. Besides, who would even come? It’s not like anyone’s going to miss me.”

“I’m going to miss you,” Penny said.

Caleb looked up and their eyes locked across the table for a moment before he looked down at his plate again. “Besides you.”

“Roxanne will miss you.”

“Only until she hires my replacement.”

“Malik and Elyse, then.”

“They’ll miss that I’m usually the one to take the trash out to the dumpster.”

“Your roommates?”

He snorted. “Yeah, nope.”

“Your regular customers will miss you. Charlotte, and Anita with the baby, and that lady who brings her dog. Not to mention everyone in my knitting group.”

Caleb wasn’t buying it. “They’ll all forget about me as soon as I’m gone. The only person besides you who might care is George, and he’s leaving too. Stop trying to make a party happen.”

“But—”

“I’m serious,” he said, starting to sound annoyed. “No party. Promise me.”

“Fine.” So much for Operation Distraction. She turned her attention back to her mashed sweet potatoes, trying not to pout, but pouting a little anyway.

“Hey,” Caleb said softly, and she looked up to find his expression had gentled. “It’s a sweet thought and I appreciate the offer. I just don’t want a party. Okay?”

Penny nodded, her sullenness fading into understanding. “Okay.”

After dinner, they did the dishes together and watched another couple episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine—only thirteen left before they finished—until snuggling in front of the TV turned into making out in front of the TV, which eventually turned heated enough that they retired to the bedroom.

It was their usual routine, one they’d fallen into as easily and naturally as breathing. Penny could barely even remember how she’d spent her evenings before Caleb. It was like she’d been holding a spot open for him in her life, and he’d come along and slotted himself into it. A perfect fit.

Hours later, when they both should have been asleep, Penny lay on her side staring at the digital clock on her nightstand. Watching the minutes tick away into hours, which would turn into days, which would be gone before she knew it.

She felt Caleb shift in bed behind her, and then his hand glided over her hip. “Why aren’t you asleep?” he asked, his voice low and raspy.

“I don’t know.”

His hand trailed along her arm and played with her fingers. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she lied.

“Really? Because you’ve seemed sort of…” He hesitated like he was searching for the right word, finally settling on, “sad.”

She was sad. Ever since the realization she loved him, it felt like a weight had settled on her chest. One that grew heavier every day. “I’m fine,” she said, trying to force lightness into her voice. It wouldn’t do any good to ruin their remaining time together by dwelling on how little time they had.

“Penelope.” He nuzzled his nose against the back of her neck. “You can talk to me.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a breath. “I know I promised I wouldn’t get attached, but…” Her courage failed her before she could go any further. Bringing the word love into the conversation was like going nuclear. It would change everything, and she didn’t want anything to change.

“Easier said than done?” he supplied softly.

“Something like that.”

There was a long pause—lengthy enough that she had time to fear she’d admitted too much. Then his arm tightened around her, pulling her against the curve of his body. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry.” She understood now why he’d tried to hold himself back. He’d been right; she wasn’t equipped for a no-strings fling—at least not with him. They’d clicked in a way she’d never imagined possible, and it had left her wanting a lot more than the simple good time she’d offered him.

But if she could go back and make the choice over again, knowing what she knew now, she wouldn’t change a thing. It wasn’t even worth considering. She’d pay any price for these stolen, impermanent moments.

Caleb propped himself up on one elbow and turned her over onto her back. His eyes glinted warmly in the darkness above her as he brushed a strand of curly hair from her temple. “I wish I could—”

“Don’t.” She shook her head and his fingers stroked over her face to cup her cheek. “I wouldn’t trade a second of the time we’ve had together.” No matter how much it’s going to hurt. “No regrets, okay?”

He bent to kiss her, with such gentle intensity it left her shaking in his arms.

“No regrets.”