“I am her friend,” she said more aggressively than necessary.
“Wonderful, then, if you’d be so kind as to follow….”
“Stop talking about me. I’m right here, and I won’t be told what to do,” Bonnie growled at both of them.
“Ha! I would never dream of such a thing.”
Penny was surprised by the laughter that erupted next to her. But the lips she was suddenly so infatuated with were smiling again, and that was a pleasant turn of events.
“Then you’ll let me go back….”
The man in question stepped forward gently but firmly, catching Bonnie by both arms and leaning in until she looked him in the eye. “Shivon, my dear, it’s time to go home,” he said in his clear, melodic voice.
Something happened then that Penny had never seen before. All at once, Bonnie’s body went limp as all the fight went out of her. She meekly nodded her head, then moved to lean up against Penny, who quickly tucked her arm around her for support.
And just like that, the man with the lovely lips stepped out to the street, hailed them a cab, tucked them safely inside, took a moment to speak to the cab driver, then stepped back and shortly disappeared from view.
Chapter 5
Penelope woke to a darkened room and the sound of rain gently tapping against the windowpane. She moved slowly from her tightly curled position, stretching her arms and legs, luxuriating in the feel of clean sheets against her skin. She drew in a deep breath, then gasped, choking momentarily, throwing her whole body into a coughing fit. The air was different—damp and heavy, and apparently hard to breathe.
When she could finally take in a breath with regularity again, she haltingly opened her eyes, unsure of what she’d find. Blurry visions came slowly into focus, bringing memories of the day before, as well as a dull pounding in her head.
The king-sized four-poster bed, with the canopy that now floated above her like a low-lying cloud, held her comfortably, though. The blankets were thick and soft. If she didn’t move, she could almost ignore the iffy feeling in her stomach. Tilting her head slightly, she noted the light gray walls. Combined with the dark blue curtains she hadn’t managed to close, they gave a very calming feel to the room—something she appreciated.
Still, it felt better closing her eyes as she slowly sifted through recent events: the flight, their arrival, the house, lunch, Cork City, and… the pub. Penelope’s eyes snapped back open as she grabbed the covers, flinging them off.
“Bonnie,” the name came out in a strangled voice as her vocal cords struggled to function and her body fought for balance.
Flashes of the bartender kicking them out, the cab ride home, getting Bonnie to the bathroom before she threw up, and thentucking her into bed with a glass of water beside her flooded in now.
Penny struggled to remember which room was Bonnie’s as she careened into the hallway, suddenly facing a multitude of doors. Fortunately, she’d left it ajar in case Bonnie called for her in the night. She stumbled in, finding Bonnie spread starfish under her covers, only her eyes, nose, and a mass of strawberry blonde hair sticking out. She clocked the empty water glass and found some relief in that. Stepping further into the room, she shut the thick, velvety red curtains, surprised by how much darker the already dull room became. Retracing her steps to the bed, she lovingly smoothed back Bonnie’s messy hair before slipping out.
It was then, in the drafty hallway, that she realized how cold she was, her bare feet in particular. “June,” she grumbled as her body shivered. “It’s June. And it’s freakin’ freezing.”
Lacking motivation to face the day, Penelope returned to bed. Climbing back under the thick, warm blankets, she snuggled into them, searching for heat, comfort, and some sense to the slowly returning details of the day before.
It was when she came to their time at the bar, and Seamus in particular, that she stopped. While many things were fuzzy, she could still distinctly see his blue-eyed gaze, flirtatious smile, and well-built physique. Her body convulsed again from something other than cold. The image of a different boy with smiling eyes leaned in towards her, about to kiss her, when his lips turned to a sneer, and his eyes turned cold with disgust.
“Stop it,” she scolded herself, needing to hear her voice. She rolled over in the bed, forcing the image away, reminding herself she was in the here and now. That boy would never hurt her again.
She ran her hand reflexively down her belly, feeling the flat, muscular surface there, the result of months of workouts and dieting.
But there had been more. She pushed her brain past Seamus, trying to remember. There had been lips, not Seamus’s lips. Someone else’s, that had curved up to smile back at her. And then Seamus had been angry. She cringed as she remembered Bonnie, pint in hand.
Then the other man… it finally clicked. She remembered him tuning his guitar. He was probably about to sing before he came to their rescue. The sting of guilt hit as she hoped they hadn’t ruined his night.
That was enough. Penelope didn’t want to relive any more. She crawled back out of her blankets determinedly, heading for her suitcase. It was time to remember what exactly she had packed.
She had to give her Irish-born friend credit. While there were clothes for hot summer days in her suitcase, she was grateful for the many cozy-looking things Bonnie had insisted she bring.
First things first, though. She needed a shower and, if at all possible, something for her headache. Counting the hours between the time change and the amount of travelling they’d done felt like an impossible task, but she concluded she hadn’t showered in at least two full days. She felt grimy and gross just thinking about it, especially after all they’d been through.
Pulling out her bag of toiletries, she found her toothbrush. Exploratively, she ran her tongue over her front teeth, cringing at the palpable fuzziness. She hadn’t used that in two days, either. She made her way to the ensuite, looking longingly at the shower as she applied toothpaste and took care of the most easily remedied problem first. Opening the cabinet door, she was delighted to find a little plastic bottle labelled Nurofen. Scanning the uses and seeing headache among them,she popped two in her mouth, hoping they would kick in fast. Then she set out her shampoo, conditioner, moisturizer, and everything else, deciding that if she was going to be staying for a while, she might as well make herself at home.
Stepping into the shower, she stared at the knobs in confusion. For something that should be straightforward, she hadn’t seen anything like it before. She began pressing and turning things and eventually had the water running, which, disappointingly, hit with much less pressure than she’d hoped. It was more like a heavy trickle than the solid blast she was used to. For all her fiddling, it refused to come out any stronger. Even more horrific was the fact that nothing she did produced heat.
It was disastrously agonizing. She flinched repeatedly, forcing herself to stay put, bracing herself against it. Reasoning that she was already soaked, she rushed through the motions of what should have been a refreshingly luxurious experience. With more urgency than when she’d started, she pressed and turned all the things until the torturous experience came to an end.
