Page 89 of While the Sun Shines

“Only if he’s a competitor next time. I can’t wait to whoop his ass.”

“As long as there are pants covering it?”

“God, please, yes.”

“I’m going to finish their room.” Drew pulls in a deep breath. “I know I’ve told you that a hundred times, but Abelardo and I got a ton done on it today, and he said he can get the windows and trim painted tomorrow.”

“Good.”

“I just—I needed help. And I’m sorry I didn’t realize that until Abelardo was already halfway done with priming the walls,” Drew says.

This is it, them talking. The beginning, and shit, this conversation is going to end up somewhere and he can’t predict where that’ll be. Together, dating, agreeing to be friends, taking a giant step back—his stomach clenches.

But fuck it—onward.

“I should’ve asked Cooper and Whit to help me all spring,” he continues, “or just bit the bullet and hired someone, but I didn’t, and that was a mistake.”

“Thank you,” Penny says. She sounds more serious than she normally does, none of the evening’s laughter in her voice.

“Well, you deserved me figuring that out weeks ago, but I can try to get it done as quick as I can now. And—well, uh—”

Can I touch you? he wants to ask. Pull her against him, hold her, kiss her. No, he tells himself. Wait. Get her answer and go from there.

But oh God, it’s awful to have to see this conversation through. He wants to duck away from the burning heat in his cheeks, his heart hammering in his chest, and good lord, his palms really are sweating.

Do it, Drew tells himself. Now, before he can back out. While she’s standing here, listening, her head tipped up to look at him. Before he loses this chance.

“I’ve had—Penny, I’ve had a thing for you—I’ve been in love with you. For years. Like, forever. But listen, Pen, you’re my best friend, and I don’t want that to change, okay?”

Yes, there. What he practiced—you’re my friend and no matter what, that’s the most important piece of this whole puzzle. He sucks in a breath. He can do this.

“I heard what you said the other night, about wanting someone who would be there for you. If there’s any chance at all that person could be me, I’d, shit, Pen. If there’s literally any chance, any tiny, slim possibility—you know me—I think you know me by now. There’s always going to be part of me that’s a total worrywart, but you’re right that you should be with someone who puts you first. And if you wanted, I would love to worry about spending enough time and energy on you. I wouldn’t get it perfect, but I’d try and I don’t know, maybe that wouldn’t be enough for you, but I’d really, Pen, I’d try so hard, okay?”

Penny runs her tongue over the corners of her lips. Stares past his shoulder, her eyes shining.

“Penny, I’ve wanted this forever, okay? For years, for a stupidly, embarrassingly long time, since we were kids. I wanted to have our first kiss together, figure out sex together, all of it, everything from every movie. But honestly, Pen, I’d rather do it this way, as adults so we can do it right.”

“If you tell me now that we could’ve gone to prom together and spared me having fucking Whit come back—”

“C’mon, how cute was that?” His chest squeezes so tight his heart can barely beat, but he still laughs when she tries to smack him with the trophy. “I didn’t ask you. I—I should’ve. I wanted to go with you and I never said anything. I thought—I thought if you wanted to go too, you’d bring it up. Which was wrong, because I was there too, that whole time. But I was terrified and I’m still terrified but you’re—Pen, you’re worth how scared I am.”

“I have standards,” she says softly.

“I know. And you should.”

“And I know what I want from life.”

“I know you do. It’s—God, Pen—there’re so many awesome things about you, but that’s one of the best. I have no idea what I’m doing half the time. I’m just spinning in circles, and you’ve got this way of just, eyes on the fucking prize.”

“I’m serious. It’s all good now,” Penny says. “Sure, you can focus tonight, but what about next week, when the baler’s fixed? And when you’re busy making cheese and the sheep—?”

“The sheep aren’t more important than you are,” Drew says and she looks away, sniffs once, hard, then touches her finger to the corner of her eye. “I’ll deal with them while you’re working. Or when you’re going for a run. And if you tell me what days you have off, I can write it on my cheese schedule.”

“You’d remember to do that?”

“Yes. I’ll fucking tattoo it on my forehead, Pen.”

“Don’t.” Penny brushes his hair back. “I like your face how it is.”