Bryce rang the doorbell and Pen answered it, with Bishop and Ann right behind her like overprotective parents.
“Come in.” She smiled and held open the door.
Bryce hesitated, looking adorable in a plum-colored sweater and dark jeans. His hair was artfully tousled, and a slight blush tinged his cheeks as he stepped inside, looking warily from Bishop to her.
Penelope grinned. Norman Rockwell couldn’t have chosen a more all-American college date for her.
Bryce stuck out his hand. “Professor Cole, it’s good to see you again. Thank you for allowing me take out your, uh, Penelope.” His voice faltered.
Bishop clasped the boy’s hand, a savage look in his usually ashy eyes. “My Penelope.” He repeated Bryce’s blundered phrasing, and Pen didn’t miss the quick glance Bishop threw in her direction, their eyes meeting and reacting like a stinging spark of static electricity against metal.
Bryce seemed to encounter some difficulty extracting his hand from Bishop’s, whose body language looked like he’d just been challenged to a duel rather than respectfully greeted and thanked.
After Ann had been introduced, Penelope sidled up to Bryce, linking her arm in his and leaning into him. She smiled wide at Bishop, wondering if he’d even noticed what she was wearing, but he was still staring down her date.
So, she turned her attention to the boy she was hanging on. “Let’s get going. I haven’t been out once since I came to town.” She threw a pouty look at Bishop. “My guardian’s been neglecting me.”
Bishop’s brows slammed together and his jaw ticked. “Be home by midnight.” His words carried a warning, like the tone of an overly-strict father.
Her jaw dropped, and a very unadult gasp came out of her mouth, the kind that was usually followed by a foot stomp. “A curfew? Are you serious right now? I’m not a child.”
Bishop’s words were precise, his tone ominous. “As long as you live under my roof, you will follow my rules.”
That was rich. He was the one so insistent she date other men, and then when she does, he wanted to strangle the guy before they can get out of the house.
“Okay, Daddy.” Penelope’s smile was sugary sweet. If he wanted to be an intimidating jerk, she had some tricks of her own.
Bishop scowled. Ann backed away, pretending to straighten the mail on the hallway table. Bryce shifted nervously from foot to foot.
“Your house, your rules,” Pen confirmed. “Don’t wait up.” She stepped close to Bishop and hugged him, like a daughter might hug her father before leaving the house. Only this hug wasn’t filial. She practically wrapped herself around Bishop’s side.
Bishop tensed, standing as if he was a statue while Pen kissed him on the cheek. She made sure her lips pressed the scruff on his cheek just a little too long.
Stretching up, she whispered right against his ear. “You should see the ridiculously skimpy panties I’m wearing under this skirt.”
Maintaining her sweet smile, she sidled back to her date, noting Bryce’s face had gone from blushing pink to blanched white. Slipping her arm back through his, she delivered one more blow to her guardian. “I forgot to check the weather, Bishop. Do you think I’ll get cold in what I’m wearing?”
He glared at her before glancing down, his eyes growing rounder when his gaze reached the very high hem of her skirt.
Her guardian jabbed a finger toward the stairs, his voice stern. “Go to your room and put some pants on, Penelope.”
She giggled. “I’m wearing tall boots. I’ll be fine. Besides,” she squeezed her date’s arm, who looked as if he might get sick, “Bryce will keep me warm.”
Bishop’s face looked as if he might murder one of them on the spot. She pulled Bryce toward the door. Her date awkwardly said goodbye to Bishop, but it came out as more of a squeak. Bishop slammed the door behind them.
Bryce looked at Penelope, his face nearly ashen. “Uh, i-is everything okay?”
She beamed her brightest smile at him. “Of course! Let’s have some fun. Where are we going?”
He gave her a strange look, as if he didn’t quite believe her, then shook his head and held her car door open. “There’s a gastropub in town that has great food, and I thought we could play pool or darts afterward.”
“Sounds great,” she responded when he settled into the driver’s seat. “I haven’t played much of either, so you’ll have to help me. I’d love to learn.”
They drove in silence, with Pen turned toward the window, staring at the campus as they passed through it. She knew her body language was off-putting, but she rolled her eyes. What did she care? The only reason she was participating in this charade was just to check off Bishop’s “normal life” checklist he’d insisted upon for her.
“So…” Bryce began, in a faux casual tone. “Professor Cole is your guardian?”
Pen made a noncommittal hum, not wanting to discuss Bishop with Bryce.
“You two seem to have a weird relationship.” He gave a forced chuckle.
A ferocity to protect Bishop rose so quickly in Pen’s chest, that she didn’t have time to think. “Shut up,” she snapped, whipping her head toward Bryce, her words a verbal strike. “He loves me.”
She froze, blinking. She’d never said that out loud before. Had never even thought it. Nevertheless, she heard the profound truth in it. Felt it all the way to her toes. It rooted her to the ground. Every day, his love saved her, just as it had when she’d come home from school a wreck—failing, lonely, rudderless. “He just wants me to be happy,” she whispered.
Bryce’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “Sorry, I didn’t mean… Uh, just sorry, I guess.” He gave her a shy smile. “I’m really glad you changed your mind about going out with me.”
He had such an honest, open face. And he was handsome, and smart, and when they bantered before and after class, he even made her laugh. If her heart didn’t already belong to the most fucked-up man she’d ever met, she would’ve had cartoon hearts coming out of her eyes on the date.
She softened. Bryce really was a great guy, and she enjoyed his company. She was being unfair to him. “It’s okay.” She sighed. “I’m sorry too. Professor Cole and I are both new to this guardian-ward thing, and you’re right. Things do get very weird sometimes.” If he only knew. Her lips curled at the thought of how others might react to the things that actually went on behind the doors of Sullivan Manor between Professor Sullivan’s barely-legal daughter and Professor Cole.
She squirmed, the naughty thought dampening the crotch of her skimpy panties.
She turned her attention back to her date, touching his arm. “Let’s not talk about him anymore.”
After that, Penelope had fun. The dinner was tasty and she and Bryce laughed and chatted like good friends. The only dark spot occurred when Bryce excused himself to the bathroom and Pen was left gazing around the restaurant alone. She noticed three tables of couples on dates. The partners cuddled, looked into each other’s eyes, one pair even leaned together for a slow kiss.
Jealously seeped into her bones. She wanted that with Bishop. The sexual things they’d done had been incredible, and their nightly reading was her favorite thing in the world, but a date… That’s what she wanted now. One evening to feel like his girlfriend.
Girlfriend.
The word moved straight from her thoughts to lodge in her throat, choking her with longing, making it hard to breathe.
Bryce returned and she blinked back her emotion.
“Ready to hit the pool table?” he asked.
“Sure,” she turned away from him to hide her face, not knowing what it might give away. She stood and grabbed her purse. “Just let me use the ladies room first. I’ll meet you there.”
She practically ran to the bathroom, bursting through the door with her chest heaving. She thought maybe she was having a panic attack. Luckily the bathroom was large and tricked out with a bench for ladies to lounge on while they waited for their friends. She sank down onto it and practiced the breathing technique her therapist had taught her until she had calmed herself.
Looking down at her purse, she realized Bishop might have texted her. She pounced, digging her cell out of her bag as if she meant to call 911. Sure enough, she had messages.
The first came in only thirty minutes after she’d left. Little Pen, I hope your date is going well and my behavior didn’t ruin it.
She raised her eyebrows and pulled back the side of her mouth in a mental shrug. Her behavior had been worse.
The next text came in forty-five minutes later. Thinking of you. Hope you’re having fun.
She frowned, considering his words. Did he really hope she was having fun, or was he texting her because he was obsessing about her out with another man, and was desperate to hear back from her?
The last message had come only minutes before, and seemed to have a decidedly different tone. I know how impetuous you are. Take things slow.
As the evening went on, concern had starting to turn to irritation, it seemed.
She smirked as she responded. Worried I might actually like him? But isn’t that your goal?
She waited, but he sent no response. She’d been in the bathroom almost long enough to cause concern. There was no more time to wait for him to text back. She looked up from her phone, an idea sparking in her head. Just because she was following Bishop’s rules and going on a date with another man, didn’t mean she couldn’t still do things her way.
Luckily the bathroom was empty. She stepped into a stall, and after some impressive contortion and four deletions, she achieved a pretty sexy picture up her skirt of her bare bottom, the lace of her thong just peeking out from between her butt cheeks.
She sent it to Bishop. I should have taken your fatherly advice, because my ass is quite chilly. Should I let Bryce put his hand up my skirt to warm me up?
This time Bishop’s response was almost immediate. What I think is that you need to come home. NOW.
You made me promise I give this a real chance, she replied. I’ll come home when I have.
Smiling, she turned her phone off and dropped it into her purse. The be careful what you wish for in her message was implied, but she hoped Bishop heard it, loud and clear.