My brothers roommate, p.18
My Brother's Roommate, page 18
She chuckles softly, rolling her eyes. “You don’t have to do that, Wolfie.”
“You’re right.” I shrug. “I’ll just prove it instead.”
And I will prove it. Every second of every day. Because that’s what you do when you find a once-in-a-lifetime girl like Penelope Blake.
EPILOGUE
* * *
PENELOPE
“Good morning, Penelope!”
My coworker Reagan waves to me from her cubicle as I walk past her on my way to my corner desk. I wiggle my fingers back, shooting her the brightest smile I can muster at seven in the morning. Because despite all my efforts, I’m still not a morning person.
It never fails to surprise me how early she gets to the office every day, and how she manages to have so much energy before she’s even finished her coffee. Still, her cheerful smile is the best way to start a busy workday. Which, according to the very full calendar on my phone, today is shaping up to be.
“Morning, Reagan. Happy Friday.”
I shrug out of my wool pea coat and hang it on the hook next to my desk, then slip out of my snow boots and swap them for the sensible flats I have tucked in my purse, completing my transformation from Commuting Penelope to Office Penelope.
I couldn’t have asked for a better location for my new place of employment—just a few blocks from a Brown Line stop. I don’t have to be out in the cold for too long, and the building tucked back just far enough from the busiest part of Michigan Avenue that I don’t have to push past too many tourists on my commute. As a bonus, the window next to my desk provides a million-dollar view of Millennium Park, which feels like a sign that I’ve officially made it in Chicago.
“You ready for our eight a.m. call?” Reagan asks, her hazel eyes peering up at me from over the side of her cubicle.
This call is the reason I’m here a little early this morning. I wanted to make sure I was prepped.
“As ready as I can be to talk shop with the president of a Fortune 500 company,” I say with a laugh. “But actually, I spent almost three hours going over their annual report last night. I’ll send you my notes.”
I turn on my computer and forward her the document, waiting for the ping from her cubicle that tells me she’s received it.
“Wow, this is impressive,” Reagan says. “They’re going to be thrilled with this work.”
I can’t help the proud smile that breaks out on my face.
What can I say? Going above and beyond is sort of my thing. I’ve made that perfectly clear in the short few weeks I’ve been working for the Glenbury Group. And by the way my boss keeps whispering about upward mobility around me, I’d say it’s paying off in a major way.
After a quick scan through my inbox and a refresher on the correspondence we’ve had with this client since last week, I roll my chair back from my desk, glancing at my watch.
“I think I’m going to swing by the cafe in the lobby for a latte,” I say. “Do you want anything, Reagan?”
Before I can stand up, the top of her head pops up over her cubicle wall, her hazel eyes doubling in size. “Wait! I almost forgot. Stay put for just one second, okay?” She scurries off to the kitchen, returning moments later with a beverage carrier holding two extra-large caramel-colored iced coffees. “Ta-da! Happy one month working at the firm!”
I laugh, shaking my head in disbelief as I push to my feet. “You didn’t have to do that. It’s just a month, not a birthday or something.”
She lifts a shoulder, holding the tray out to me. “I know it’s silly, but I figured we should take whatever little celebrations life gives us, right? Plus, since we’re both iced vanilla latte girls, it just felt right.”
“You’re crazy.” I laugh, although whether she’s sane or not doesn’t change the fact that I could definitely use the caffeine. I shimmy a cup from its spot in the beverage carrier and take a slow sip from the straw. “You’re the greatest. How do you keep track of stuff like this?”
“I’m good with dates, I guess. Plus, I put a note in my calendar so I wouldn’t forget. I feel like you need things to celebrate to get you through a Midwest winter, you know?”
I laugh in agreement. “That’s for sure. And by the way, thank you for supporting the lifestyle of drinking iced coffee, even in the winter.”
“It’s always iced coffee season,” she says with the same gravity she brings to the most important client meetings. “Thank God we both know that.”
It’s so nice to have a coworker I’m not going to be constantly competing with. Reagan is a couple years older than me, but she’s made it clear she’s perfectly happy being an office assistant for now. When the time comes and she’s interested in more responsibility, I vow to never be like that jerk Spencer. I’ll show her the ropes, teach her everything I’ve learned in this role, and help her get any promotion she desires.
I settle back in at my desk, sipping happily on my iced latte as I reply to a few quick client emails, only to be distracted moments later when my computer pings with an instant message. It’s from Wolfie, and just seeing his name appear on my screen puts a fluttery feeling deep in my chest.
We’ve been official for almost two months now, but that new-love feeling still hasn’t worn off, and my fingers are crossed that it never will. I glance at the time in the corner of my screen—okay, I have a couple of minutes to chat before this meeting. Let’s make it count.
When I open the message, I’m surprised to see it’s really not a message at all. Just a link to a website with a URL I don’t recognize. For a second, I’m suspicious, but the link doesn’t appear to be spam or anything.
With a double-click, I’m whisked off to a real estate page boasting lots of bright, airy pictures of a two-bedroom condo for sale, right on the lake. I swipe through the pictures, impressed by the rich brown hardwood floors and the modern kitchen appliances.
When I get to the pictures of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the sparkling blue lake, my jaw almost hits my keyboard. It’s gorgeous, but I’m not really sure why he’s sending it to me.
We haven’t discussed the whole moving-in-together thing since we made our relationship official, and even then, I thought the condo daydream was a few more years down the line. Then again, my lease is ending pretty soon. It’s about time for us to be more serious about what comes next.
This condo is way out of my price range, but I know Wolfie makes a great living with Frisky Business. My brother hasn’t exactly been shy about getting my advice about the business or showing me the books over the years. All the partners have been making seven figures for a while now.
My fingers fly across my keyboard, typing out a quick response.
Are you thinking about buying this place?
Almost instantly, my computer pings with Wolfie’s reply.
I’m looking at it. If you don’t like it, there are a few others I have in mind. I think any of them could be excellent for our first home together.
There’s that fluttery feeling in my chest again.
I reopen the website and take another more serious look at the listing, trying to imagine myself inside each beautiful, spacious room. Ideas start rushing to my head quicker than I can talk myself down from my daydream. We could put the couch there, the kitchen table here. The second bedroom would be for guests, with a crib ready for Connor’s baby girl when they visit.
It all seems too good to be true.
And then there’s the very best part—the thought of coming home to Wolfie at the end of every day.
It’s beautiful. Even the location is perfect. But isn’t it a little fast for us to share a mortgage?
His response makes my head swim.
Then I’ll buy it and you can live with me, rent-free. It’ll be half yours anyway once there’s a ring on your finger.
This time, the butterflies aren’t just in my chest. They’re in my stomach, and my fingertips, and even my freaking armpits. I can’t believe this man sometimes.
You’re too good to be true, you know that? And I’m helping with the payments!
No way. You know I come with baggage. I’m just lucky enough to have a girl who sees past it.
When I don’t respond right away, he messages me again.
The realtor can get us in for a showing tonight, if you’re free after work.
Tonight? Already? I didn’t know this would move so fast. This all feels so crazy.
I never expected things to move so quickly with Wolfie, but much to my surprise, I’m not afraid. Just excited. Sometimes life moves a little faster than we could have planned, and all you can do is throw your arms up and enjoy the ride.
Opening my calendar again, I scroll through the back-to-back meetings and phone calls filling my day. It might be a race against the clock, but I think I can get out of here by six, if I focus. Starting, like, now.
Tonight sounds perfect. Meet me at the office after work? Six o’clock?
Perfect. Just like you. I love you.
I bask in the glow of those last two words for a good long moment. Wolfie loves me. I’ll never get tired of hearing it. Or reading it on a screen, in this case.
Either way, those words leave a floaty feeling in my belly that even the most exhausting of workdays can’t take away.
By the time six o’clock rolls around, I should be completely drained, but the excitement of seeing this condo with him has me riding a high.
When Wolfie texts me that he’s arrived, I slip back into my snow boots and take the elevator down to the lobby, where he’s seated on one of the black leather couches near reception. Waiting patiently for me, he scrolls through his phone, just like I waited patiently for him, all those years and diary entries ago. But this reality is far better than anything I ever could have put on paper.
I walk toward him, and when he sees me, his gray eyes light up like he just spotted his favorite thing in the world. I love those expressive eyes, the ones that always shine when they lock with mine. Even at the end of a long workweek in the dead of winter, one look from him could warm me up from the inside faster than a shot of bourbon.
He shoves up from the couch, gathering me in his arms for a quick kiss hello. His lips are as soft and sweet as ever, although a little cold from the winter weather. But the heat in his gaze when he pulls back is absolutely undeniable.
“Hi, gorgeous,” he murmurs. “Ready to check out our future home?”
I roll my eyes and give his shoulder a pat. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, babe. It’s a showing, not a closing. How was work?”
“Good,” he says with a nod. “And you?”
“Good. Long, but good. I’m starving, though. Do we have time to pick up a snack on our way to the showing?”
His laugh is a low cackle, barely audible through the lobby noise. “Way ahead of you, babe. I picked up dinner on the way here. It’s out in the car, if you don’t mind using your lap as a table.”
My stomach answers for me with a grumble. “Um, that’s a yes,” I say with a blush, lacing my gloved fingers through his and following him toward the revolving doors. “What’s on the menu?”
“Pasta,” he says, his smile wider than a city block. “Just like our first date. When you cooked for me.”
I smile at the memory. That was the start of us . . . back when I was so unsure how it would all unfold, but couldn’t stop myself from falling hard and fast.
It’s been an incredible ride, and I wouldn’t change any of it for a single second.
I hope you enjoyed Wolfie’s story. Up next in this series is Connor’s story in The Stud Next Door. Turn the page for a sneak preview!
What to Read Next
1
* * *
CONNOR
Sunlight pours onto the front porch of the three-bedroom home I bought a few months ago. I gave up my apartment in the city for a suburban zip code, a lawn I don’t have time to mow, and nosy neighbors who want to know why my baby’s mom isn’t in the picture.
It’s . . . a lot.
But at this moment, lawn mowers and property taxes are the least of my concerns.
The stress I’ve been under for the last few months, ever since my daughter was born, has been beaten into temporary submission by the warmth of the sunshine, good company, and the cold beer in my hand. It still lurks just below the surface, in the tension in my shoulders, in the dark thoughts that linger, but for now at least, I’m relatively at ease. Summer has finally come to Chicago, and I’m parked in a lawn chair on my porch with three of my best friends.
“Just like old times. Right, man?” Hayes leans back in his chair, kicking his feet up onto the brick ledge.
Hayes is the easygoing one, always able to put people at ease. I used to be that way. Friendly, fun-loving. Always down for a good time. Now it’s a mixed bag. The stress of becoming a single father has done a number on me, and I’m still fighting for breath on what feels like a sinking ship at times.
“Something like that,” I murmur, lifting the bottle to my lips for a sip. The beer goes down with a bite, hoppy and full-bodied.
To my left, Wolfie grunts his approval. In contrast to Hayes, Wolfie is a bit of a handful. Complicated, but loyal. Unpredictably moody, yet reliable. Although his foul moods have improved drastically since he started dating my younger sister—a story that I have no intention of getting into right now.
“Thanks for the beer, man,” I say, raising my beverage in Caleb’s direction.
“Fuck yeah. Anytime,” he says before downing what I can only assume is half of his beer and releasing an enormous belch.
Caleb is a bit of a wild child. I keep waiting for the guy to grow up, but so far, that hasn’t happened. He’s still the same shamelessly immature guy I met in college.
“Chill, man,” Hayes whispers, nodding in my direction. “Boys’ night isn’t just for the boys anymore.”
Ah. That’s my cue to acknowledge that “one of these things is not like the other.” The reason I’ve been working from home for the past two months. The elephant in the room that’s less of an elephant and more of a . . . well, a newborn baby.
A baby girl named Marley who has my eyes and my ex’s creamy skin.
“Oh, come on. She’s dead asleep.” Caleb leans forward in his chair. “Hey, Marley! Maaarley. Marzipan!”
My two-month-old daughter doesn’t wake, nestled peacefully against my chest, her plump little fist clutching my T-shirt.
We all take a moment to watch the rise and fall of her back, the cutest little poop-and-puke machine you ever did see. Even when she’s pooping and puking, she’s the most beautiful thing in the world, and you can fight me on that. I’ll die on that hill.
“How’s she been?” Wolfie asks, tipping his chin toward the sleeping baby with a deep line etched between his brows.
I smile. I’ve missed my old roommate’s perpetual frown.
Paternity leave has been . . . interesting. A bit isolating, but I’m starting to realize it doesn’t have to be that way.
“Good. She’s good.” It isn’t a lie. Marley is a good baby, usually low maintenance with only the occasional meltdown. Kind of like her dad.
“How about you?” Hayes frowns as he studies me.
Damn, I must look as exhausted as I feel.
“I’m alive.” I chuckle, but the humor in my voice sounds forced. That’s a new one for me.
“You’ll feel better once you’re back.” Caleb nods sagely, as if my returning to work will somehow restore the balance of the universe.
“If I come back,” I remind them, only half joking.
My partners graciously gave me six weeks of paid paternity leave, with a little leeway in the budget to sneak in another week or two.
Together, my friends and I own a sex toy business named Frisky Business, both an ecofriendly line of toys that we manufacture, as well as a retail store in the heart of Chicago. Despite the shop being a second home to me for years, I haven’t set foot in the place in six weeks, and part of me can’t picture myself going back. At least, not without some reliable child care, which has been hard to come by.
“What about the day cares you were researching?” Wolfie asks, and I can see him crunching the numbers in his head.
I’m well aware that Frisky Business can’t afford to keep me on paternity leave for much longer. It’s already been two months.
“No luck. Did you know there’s a government website where you can look up safety violations and infractions of any licensed day care? It’s terrifying. All of the day cares within a five-mile radius have too many accident reports to even count.”
“Shit, seriously? Well, what about Beth?” Hayes asks.
Ah, yes. Beth. Part-time mother of my child, full-time med-school student alongside her med-school-student boyfriend.
They certainly don’t have the time to care for a child 24/7. We share joint custody, but a lot has been falling on me lately, not that I’m complaining. I love spending time with Marley, and I want Beth to be able to build her career. She’s a good mom, juggling school, a new relationship, and Marley with relative ease.
“When she finishes her residency next year, she’ll have more time to care for Marley. For now, she and Brett have her two days of the week. Beth wants more, but she can’t quite swing it right now.”
The guys nod, trying to understand this new life I’ve found myself living.
One day at a time . . .
Let’s rewind. Thirteen months ago, I was happily single without a care in the world. The only unknown in my life was the familiar and somewhat amusing panic of waking up next to a woman whose name I couldn’t remember. Back then, I was going on a minimum of three dates per week, some of which ended with a satisfying hookup with whichever lucky lady could keep up with me.
