take me to emotion (i want to go all the way)

by kybridge26

Summary:

Penelope has no idea what to expect when she allows her roommate Sophie to set her up on a blind double date, but it certainly isn't him.

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Polin Week 2026 - Double Date

Notes:

hi friends! it's officially the best week of the year!

this fic is what happens when i go in without a plan and i love it very much. i hope you do too!

a huge thank you to my beta and my friend, wren, without whom i probably would get nothing done 🩵

happy polin week!

much love,
ky 🫶

“I cannot believe you talked me into this,” Penelope muttered as she wiggled her hips and tugged at the hem of the too-short dress her roommate had convinced her to wear for the very first time tonight, trying and failing to cover more of herself while Sophie waved goodbye to the Lyft driver and started to lead her up the path to the little bungalow neither of them had been to before. 

“The date or the dress?” Sophie asked, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk that meant she already knew the answer.

“Both,” Penelope huffed anyway and rolled her eyes, batting her giggling best friend’s hand away when she tried to poke her in the ribs. “It’s my first date in almost four years and I look ridiculous.”

“Actually, you look really fucking hot,” the brunette assured her, wiggling her brows as she added, “Was tempted to keep you home all to myself for the night.”

“Shut up,” Penelope laughed, nearly running into Sophie when she came to an abrupt stop just before the steps leading up to the porch and spun around to face her. 

“I’m serious, Pen. You’re beautiful.” Her voice was softer now as she reached out to adjust the straps on Penelope’s shoulders, grabbing her hands when she was done to stop them from fidgeting with the fabric around her stomach and offering her fingers a tight squeeze. She waited for Penelope to meet her eyes again. “I need you to take a breath with me, okay?”

The redhead nodded and obeyed, inhaling deeply and holding the air in her lungs for a moment before letting it go, immediately relaxing a bit. 

“Good girl,” Sophie teased. “Now, do you want to tell me what it is that’s really bothering you? Because we both know how good you look toni—Penelope Anne, do not even think about fighting me on this!”

Her dark eyes narrowed at Penelope until she snapped her mouth closed, effectively ending her protest before it could even begin. Another time, she might have chosen to be stubborn, but there was no point in arguing when they did, in fact, both know that Sophie was right. 

Penelope did look particularly good tonight; she might have even said she looked sexy—a feeling that was entirely new to her, and one she owed at least in part to the woman in front of her. Her dress, which Sophie had found tucked away in the back of her closet, was one she’d bought three years ago for her first anniversary date with her then-boyfriend; when she’d shown it to him, he’d told her it was way too revealing for a woman like her and she’d never felt confident enough to wear it after that. 

Until now, that is. 

There was something that actually felt really right about wearing something Alfred hated for her first date since they’d broken up, helped even more by the fact that it was the perfect dress. It was a deep emerald green that beautifully complemented her loose, waist-length auburn curls, her pale blue eyes, and her creamy, ivory skin—which was on display tonight more than it ever had been before, as the silk hugged every one of the curves a woman like her possessed. It dipped low on her chest, showing off her full breasts, then cinched in at her waist, clinging to her belly and fitting snugly over generous hips, before it ended just below her ass, skimming the top of her thick thighs.

As she’d looked in the mirror before leaving their apartment, Penelope could scarcely see the woman she was before her move to the west coast—she was glad for it, having never really liked that version of herself all that much in the first place. Having been told for most of her life that she was not skinny enough or pretty enough—or enough in general, really; it had been impossible to please her mother and sisters—Penelope had briefly learned to let herself shine in college, though she was still impossibly shy. When Alfred came along, however, echoing the sentiments of her family, she’d gotten used to hiding behind dull and ill-fitting clothes and trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible while she internalized all their bullshit once again. Gone was the fun and quirky and perfectly Penelope collection she’d so carefully thrifted for herself, replaced by a boring capsule wardrobe that was Alfred-approved. 

Over the past six months, though, it was like a switch in her had finally flipped. 

It started last fall when she’d gotten unceremoniously dumped so her boyfriend could go off on a three-year research trip to the arctic that she didn’t want to join him on; just like that, it was three and a half years of her life wasted on a man she didn’t actually like very much—never had, really—she had simply let herself be convinced that a woman like her could only ever have a man like him. Needing to get out of their shared apartment as quickly as possible, Penelope had scoured listings, but found nothing that she could afford in New York on her own. Frustrated, she’d taken a break and done what she always did when she found herself missing someone she wasn’t allowed to miss—she reread one of his old articles, letting herself pretend for a moment that he was there beside her telling her those stories the way he used to. The article she’d chosen that night was one of her favorites, something he’d written about growing up in San Diego and how it still felt like home on the rare occasions he was around. 

Home. 

It was a concept that had been mostly foreign to Penelope at the time, and perhaps it was the nostalgia or the wishful thinking or the silly dreams of a girl who still hadn’t gotten over the boy she once loved, but before she knew it, she was searching for rooms to rent in a city she’d never been to. Two days later, she’d packed up her entire life in two suitcases and moved across the country and into an apartment to live with a woman she’d met on the internet.

Penelope and Sophie had become best friends almost instantly; in fact, she had only once before connected so quickly with another person, though he had likely long forgotten her—or at least, that was what she told herself every time he crossed her mind. It was much less terrifying to be Sophie’s best friend, however, as Penelope was not falling head over heels for her roommate every time she sent a charming smile her way. And while their stories weren’t exactly the same, Sophie also knew what it was like to grow up in a house that had never much felt like a home, so the two of them had made it their mission to make their tiny apartment the kind of home they’d always wanted and to embrace life in San Diego the way they’d always wanted. Somewhere along the way, they’d started to become the versions of themselves they’d never before been allowed to be, whether by their awful families or their own fears. 

And it might have been obvious to some, but Penelope didn’t think either of them had ever realized how much easier it was to be unapologetically themselves when the voices echoing inside their heads were much kinder than those who had long done everything in their power to tear them down. Penelope’s mother and her sisters and Alfred had been replaced by her sweet and funny best friend and the others they’d met in their adventures across the city, as well as another voice that was still fresh in her mind despite not having heard it for years, and—even more importantly—by Penelope herself. 

It was as if she were an entirely new person, yet she also thought that maybe this was really just the person she was always meant to be—more confident in her own abilities, more comfortable in her own skin, just altogether…more. She knew now that she was the only person who could decide if she was enough, and that had made all the difference. 

Her writing was flourishing. Not only had she started making headway on the novel she’d been slowly working on since graduating, but she’d also had several essays accepted to different publications she’d long admired, including one that had been published just last week that had been all about the journey she’d taken in chasing her own happiness. 

And it wasn’t just her career that was taking off. With her friends’ encouragement, Penelope had begun her journey in learning how to express herself the way she wished. She discovered new ways to dress her body, emphasizing her assets and accepting the parts of herself she’d always been told she should be embarrassed of—sometimes emphasizing those too, just because she could. She found things she liked and rid herself of things she didn’t and at nearly twenty-six years old, she thought she finally understood what it meant to truly love who she had become.

Who she always was, really; she had just struggled to see it.  

She had come to California to start over and for all intents and purposes, she thought she’d done a damn good job of it. There was one little thing, though, that she still hadn’t been brave enough to try—dating. 

She wasn’t entirely certain what it was that was holding her back, other than her nearly complete lack of experience in doing so, of course. Having spent most of her adulthood pining after her best friend and dating the most boring man on the face of the planet, Penelope had never really known what it was to go out on dates with someone new—much less someone she’d never even met, as she was doing tonight. 

A blind date. 

Not even Sophie knew what to expect of the man Penelope was being set up with, having never met her own date’s roommate before. To be fair, Sophie barely knew him in the first place; Reggie was a regular at the coffee shop she worked at and after what must have been the tenth time that he’d asked her out, she’d finally said yes on the condition that it could be a double date. He had eagerly agreed and promised he had the perfect guy for Penelope, who very much had her doubts considering she’d met Reggie a few times and knew he was nothing to write home about. Truthfully, she couldn’t really understand why Sophie had finally said yes. She was gorgeous and brilliant and there had to be less douchey men in this city who would love to take her out; however, she was also going through a dry spell and figured Reggie was a harmless enough option for her to get laid. Whether or not it would be worth it was simply not Penelope's business—though her roommate would absolutely make it so—so she hadn’t argued with  Sophie’s reasoning. She also hadn’t argued when her best friend asserted that she too was in need of a good dicking down, which was how they’d found themselves standing in front of the little bungalow their dates called home, where they were supposed to meet before walking to the restaurant down on the boardwalk.

“This is probably a very bad idea,” Penelope finally admitted, watching Sophie’s expression soften even further. 

“Listen, Pen, I know this is your first date since that blond vegan asshole.” Penelope snorted at both the description and the way her friend’s nose scrunched in disgust for even having to think about Alfred. “But there is zero pressure here at all. That’s part of the reason I chose Reggie for this.”

“Really taking one for the team there, Soph,” she joked. 

“I can only hope I end up taking one,” Sophie said with a wink, beaming as Penelope cracked up. “But I promise if you want out at any time, I’ll be right there with you. All you have to do is say the word, okay?”

“Okay,” Penelope agreed. “Wait, what’s the word?”

“What?” Sophie furrowed her brow, not catching on. 

“I can’t just say this guy sucks, let’s get out of here. We need a word!”

Her best friend giggled and thought for a moment before her eyes brightened with an idea. “Penguin, in honor of–” 

“That blond vegan asshole,” Penelope finished for her with a laugh. “You know, there aren’t actually any penguins in the arctic.” 

“I actually think that makes it worse,” Sophie said with a faux shiver. “Who just goes to the arctic for three years?” 

“Not me.”

“And thank god you didn’t. I needed you right here with me, looking scrumptious as hell for Bill or whatever his name is.” 

“It’s Ben,” Penelope giggled, accepting Sophie’s hand and letting her tug her toward the front door once more.

“Well, Ben is one lucky man. If he’s not careful, I’ll be the one taking you home tonight.”

“You could just take me home right now. We could change into our pjs and order Thai and watch Real Housewives…”

“Stop talking dirty to me, babe. You’re making me blush.” Sophie fanned herself then rang the bell and nudged Penelope’s hip with her own, waiting to catch her gaze before speaking. “Just be you, Pen, and he won’t know what hit him.”

Penelope nodded and squeezed her best friend’s fingers before releasing it and looking back at the front door right as it swung open to reveal Reggie in all his…glory.

“Hey ladies,” he greeted them in what seemed to be a cringy attempt at a croon that gave Penelope the heebie-jeebies.

“Hey Reg,” they said together, humor already evident in their voices. Penelope had no idea how Sophie ever thought this was a good idea. 

She had to bite her lip to stop herself from giggling as he leaned against the doorframe and scanned Sophie from head to toe, nodding his unneeded approval before turning his attention to Penelope. She didn’t bother to hide the disgust from her face as he so obviously checked her out, licking his lips while his gaze loitered over her cleavage for much too long. Glancing over at Sophie to gauge her reaction to the situation and wondering if they would even get into the house before saying penguin, she was surprised to find her roommate paying absolutely no mind to the man blocking the door, her attention focused solely on something beyond Reggie that Penelope couldn’t see. 

“Aren’t you going to let those beautiful women in, Reg?” a rich voice called out from within the bungalow. 

Ah. 

Not something, but someone—a very good-looking someone if the blush rising on her best friend’s cheeks was any indication. Penelope had never seen Sophie look so enamored with…well, anything before. 

Reggie rolled his eyes and held the door open as he waved them inside, spouting off some nonsense that neither of them were listening to as Penelope pulled a frozen Sophie over the threshold. A moment later, she spotted the man who had so thoroughly captured Sophie’s attention—Ben, she presumed; her date, though he appeared to be similarly enthralled by the brunette beside her. 

With very little stake in the game and a complete abhorrence for Reginald Fife, Penelope found herself uncaring that her would-be date seemed to only have eyes for her best friend—in fact, relishing the idea that this night might be ruined for Reggie. However, she was too distracted to think beyond that as her eyes traveled over Ben, searching her mind and trying to figure out why she felt as though she recognized him from somewhere. He was tall and handsome with dark brown hair and striking grey eyes; if she didn’t know any better, she might think he was a–

“Penelope?”

It was a new voice that called out to her. 

No, that wasn’t right. 

It was not new but achingly familiar—a voice that still found her in her dreams at night though she hadn’t heard it since he graduated and left New York for good to travel the world as a journalist, just as he’d always wanted to do. 

“Pen,” he spoke again, his voice a little shakier the second time as he used the nickname that he himself had given her. “Please tell me that’s you.”

Suddenly all too aware that every pair of eyes in the room were focused on her, Penelope wanted nothing more than to run and hide, but she couldn’t—not when she had to know for certain that the voice belonged to him, belonged to–

“Colin,” she breathed as she turned to find him standing not ten feet away from her for the first time in almost five years. 

Colin Bridgerton. 

Her Colin. 

Colin Bridgerton, the first person who had ever truly seen her; the sweet boy who laughed and became her friend when she’d knocked him on his ass her very first day working for the Columbia Daily Spectator, then spent the next three years pouring his easy care and affection into her. 

Colin Bridgerton, one of her favorite writers of all time; the author whose article about his hometown had inspired her to move here, though he hadn’t called the place home in nearly a decade—still didn’t, according to the article that had been published just two weeks ago.

Colin Bridgerton, the boy she had fallen in love with at eighteen years old; the man she had never been able to get over, even if they had lost touch over the last few years—that had been her doing, as she’d decided it would be easier to move on from what had never been and what could never be without the constant reminders of him. 

Colin Bridgerton, who looked to be just as shocked to see her as she was him, his mouth agape as they simply took a long moment to stare at each other. 

His blue eyes bored into her own, as though he believed that if he just looked hard enough, he would be able to see into the very depths of her soul—he could; had always been able to. Heart and mind racing in equal measure, Penelope tore her gaze away as she attempted to catch her breath and find her bearings. 

Because Colin Bridgerton was here. 

Her Colin. 

And because she now knew that she would no longer be able to deny the truth that she’d tried to brush aside. 

She still loved him, just as much as she had when she’d told him goodbye. 

Penelope knew she owed him answers—perhaps not all of them, but answers, nonetheless—but first she needed to reconcile with the fact that he was really here, in all the glory that Reggie thought he possessed. 

Just like the man who was almost certainly his older brother Benedict, Colin was tall and handsome with dark hair and striking eyes, though they were blue instead of grey. But he was also so much more than that; he was beautiful—he always had been. Slightly longer now than it had been in college, his chestnut hair was mussed from the countless times he’d likely run his hands through it today; still, the waves she’d often dreamt of tangling her fingers within looked effortlessly sexy. Five years older now, his sculpted jaw was somehow more defined, evident even through the dark stubble that decorated it. In fact, his whole body appeared to be more…sturdy, for lack of a better word. 

His slightly cropped white tee strained across his broad shoulders, thick biceps, and clearly chiseled chest, and the shorts slung low on his hips showed off his muscular legs and allowed her a glimpse at his tanned and toned abdomen when he reached a hand up to rub the back of his neck as she had seen him do countless times before. 

The familiar movement was enough to finally bring her eyes back to his gorgeous face, expecting his perfect grin at having made her blush, something he had never failed to make her do. Her cheeks flamed even brighter, however, when she caught him doing his own leisurely assessment, his attention lingering over her curves as he drank her in. What had felt so wrong when Reggie had done it now felt incredibly right; she had never felt so at home under someone’s gaze as she did with Colin. That didn’t mean she didn’t squirm, though, as she began to ache for him the way she had the entire time she’d known him. As though he knew she needed relief, he slowly lifted his denim eyes to her face once again, the corner of his mouth turning up in the lopsided smile she loved at the realization that he’d been caught. He shrugged, not even a hint of shame in his sparkling eyes—not that she wanted there to be. 

Only in her wildest fantasies had Colin Bridgerton ever looked at her like that—with love and care and kindness shining in his remarkably blue eyes, certainly; but never like he’d wanted to take a bite out of her—and Penelope was suddenly feeling very grateful for Sophie’s insistence that she wear this dress tonight.

“C’mere.” 

It was a quiet command, as he took a step forward, already reaching for her; with his permission, there was no more hesitation on her part. Penelope practically barreled into him, throwing her arms around his neck as he wrapped his own around her waist and lifted her into the air. When his deep and warm laughter sounded in her ear, she felt tears well in her eyes and buried her face in his neck, inhaling deeply and savoring the comforting scent of cinnamon and vanilla and her Colin, letting it invade her senses and ground her in the truth of them as five years of missing him seemed to finally catch up to her. 

Pressing a smacking kiss to his scruffy cheek and giggling when he tickled her under her ribs in response, Penelope peered up at him after he gently set her back on her feet, watching his brows knit together as his gaze drifted to the floor. When it returned to hers, his confusion had been replaced by amusement dancing in the deep blue as he’d seemingly figured out what was bothering him. 

“Thought you grew on me for a second there,” Colin teased, absent-mindedly lifting his hand to twirl one of her curls around his finger as he had done a thousand times before. 

“Nope,” she said, purposefully popping the p and wiggling her brows. “Just learned how to walk in heels finally…well, kind of.”

“I like them,” he murmured as he continued to play with her hair, giving the ringlet between his fingers a gentle tug and grinning to himself when it bounced back into place before meeting her eyes once more. “Then again, there’s never been anything I don’t like when it comes to you.”

“Colin, I–

“Pen, it’s so–”

They began at the same time, only to be interrupted when someone obnoxiously cleared their throat behind her. Penelope couldn’t help but giggle again at the annoyance written on his handsome face as he glared at Reggie, the sound immediately softening his expression as he looked down at her and stuck out his tongue, holding out his hand for her. She laughed and laced her fingers with his, letting him lead her to where the other three were waiting for them—two looking quite thrilled with the turn of events, while the other was doing a poor job hiding his frustration. Penelope had honestly forgotten they were even there, and given the way Sophie was still subtly sneaking glances at Benedict, she didn’t feel guilty at all. 

“Sorry about that,” Colin said, not sounding sorry in the slightest—and certainly not looking it, as he released Penelope’s hand only to wrap his arm around her waist, his large hand settling on her hip so he could tuck her into his side. Peeking up, she found him already smiling down at her; with a contented sigh, she leaned against him, adoring the way his thumb moved in slow circles at the dip in her waist, dragging the silk of her dress along with it.

His touch soothed her; it had since the very beginning—which was why Penelope was so fortunate that Colin had always been so generous with his affection. With every extra long hug, every kiss on the cheek, every squeeze of her hand in the years they’d had together, he had healed something inside of her, having made her feel truly taken care of and loved for the first time in her life. At the time, it hadn’t mattered that he didn’t love her the way that she loved him, because life with Colin Bridgerton by her side was still so much better than what it had been without him. 

What it ended up being again, as she’d slowly allowed him to slip away over the years. 

Looking back, Penelope knew her reasons for having done so had been entirely selfish—not to mention entirely stupid—but the voices in her head had been quite a bit crueler then, and she’d been convinced that women like her could never end up with men like him—man, really; there was no one else like Colin.

Women like her ended up with the Alfred Deblings of the world—men that came at a dime a dozen; easy to find, easier to disappoint, and even easier still to forget. 

Penelope wasn’t that woman anymore, though. 

She never really had been, she supposed; she was just more aware of it now. 

But Colin? 

She thought Colin had always known who she truly was; had always seen her better than she saw herself. 

Still, she’d let herself lose him, let herself miss him for years as she pretended to be content in the life she’d settled for. 

Yet here he was, looking at her like he always had, holding her like no time had passed; however, there was something new in his navy eyes, something different in the way he all but refused to let her go. 

It was as though he wished he never had in the first place, and even though she knew it was all her fault for having pushed him away to begin with, she deeply hoped he never would again. 

“I take it you two know each other?”

Penelope’s eyes snapped toward the voice that belonged to his brother, finding Benedict’s entire face alight with mirth as he surveyed the two of them. She grinned sheepishly back at him, and felt Colin’s fingers flex ever so slightly around her. 

“Ben, this is my…this is Penelope Featherington,” Colin said, his own voice practically dripping with a devotion that caught her by surprise as he introduced her. She expected him to say more, but it seemed that no more was needed as she watched the other Bridgerton’s mouth drop open in shock before stretching into a wide grin. He hastily closed the distance between them, patting Colin on the cheek affectionately, then holding out his hand for her to shake. 

“Pen, this is my brother–” Colin began.

“Benedict,” she finished for him, and he offered her waist another squeeze as she placed her palm against his brother’s and smiled up at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Ben.”

“Penelope Featherington, as I live and breathe,” Ben beamed back and covered her hand with his second. “It’s an honor.” 

She giggled at his dramatics and he winked at her before taking a step back, a smirk playing at his lips and his keen eyes dipping to where his younger brother had just pulled her even closer into his side. 

“I assume you are supposed to be my date this evening?” Benedict asked. 

Penelope nodded at the same time Colin very firmly said, “Not anymore.”

Glancing up at him, she found his jaw set as he narrowed his eyes at his brother, as though daring Ben to challenge him on it, and while Penelope certainly hadn’t been expecting him to act so possessively after half a decade apart, it was decidedly hot. When Colin looked down with a raised brow to check if she had any objections, she merely bit her lip and shook her head, wrapping her arm around his back and delighting in his little shiver as she snuck her thumb under the hem of his t-shirt, brushing it over his hip. He briefly pressed his lips to the top of her head before turning back to his brother, who still appeared to be nothing but amused by the entire situation. 

“Does someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” Reggie blurted as he moved to stand next to Ben, looking completely bewildered; his outburst was enough for Penelope and Sophie to start laughing while the latter looked between Colin and Penelope with an expression of utter glee. 

“Sorry, man,” Colin grimaced, squeezing his neck again as he glanced between his brother and his brother’s roommate.

His roommate, too? 

Penelope didn’t think so; then again, she also hadn’t thought she’d run into him like this when he spent fifty weeks of the year anywhere but here. 

Had she hoped that maybe someday she would see him again? 

Had she been working up the courage to reach out ever since she’d moved here? 

Yes and yes. 

But she had never expected anything like this.

“Penelope and I…we met at Columbia and worked on the paper together,” Colin explained. “We were best…um, well, she was my best friend, but we haven’t seen each other since I left—she was in New York and I was, well, everywhere else.” 

Penelope thought it would have been less painful to be stabbed than to listen to him correct himself even as he spoke, to hear him not only decide not to presume that he had been her best friend as well, but to have to use the past tense at all. 

She needed to tell him, needed to explain everything, but first she needed to get him alone. Wanting to provide him some semblance of the same care he’d always given her in the meantime, she slid her hand to his back and traced soothing circles into his warm skin, feeling him relax into her touch almost immediately.

“He’s still my best friend,” she told Reggie, though it was for Colin alone that she said it. 

Colin pressed another kiss to Penelope’s curls, then let his mouth brush over the shell of her ear as he whispered, “Always mine, sweetheart.” 

She might have melted on the spot were it not for the stamping of Sophie’s foot; Penelope looked over at her roommate, unable to stop her laughter as she found her pouting with her arms crossed. 

“Oh, come on, babe,” she cooed, batting her eyelashes in an attempt to make her roommate laugh. “A girl can have two best friends, can’t she?” 

“Fine,” Sophie harrumphed as she tried and failed to suppress her grin. “But it’s only because it’s Colin that I’m willing to share.”

Sophie had, of course, been told all about Colin Bridgerton, who likely had no idea that he was currently in the presence of his biggest advocate—she’d been trying to convince Penelope to reach out to him since the very first night she’d heard his name. 

Penelope nodded and looked up at Colin. “It’s a fair deal, I think you should take it.”

“Gladly,” he laughed. 

As though she’d already guessed enough about the man to know that he had no intention of letting Penelope go, Sophie held out her left hand for Colin to shake, and his perfect chuckle filled the room as he did just that. 

“Sophie Baek,” she offered warmly, and Penelope watched as Benedict silently repeated the name to himself, her gaze then flicking to a very annoyed Reggie, who looked to be about thirty seconds away from throwing a tantrum—he really was the worst. 

“It’s very nice to meet you, Sophie,” Colin said. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being willing to share our Pen here, and I imagine for loads of other things, too.”

Sophie’s brown eyes twinkled as she smiled broadly up at him and nodded before dropping his hand and taking a step back toward Ben, the two of them appearing to gravitate toward each other like magnets. 

“Okay, well I’m still not really sure what the hell is happening but our reservation is in ten minutes, so…” Reggie tapped the watch on his wrist and four pairs of eyes rolled in response. 

Penelope was vaguely aware of Benedict pulling his roommate aside, but she couldn’t even begin to guess what was being said as she felt Colin’s hot breath at her ear again. She shivered against him as he murmured a single word. 

“Stay.”

She nodded her agreement—not that she had any plans to go anywhere without him anyways—and looked back at Sophie. “Hey Soph?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s the opposite of a penguin?”

Her best friend cackled as Colin looked between them with a furrowed brow. 

“Gotta be something really cool, something that would eat a blond vegan penguin-loving asshole,” Sophie mused. 

“Polar bear?” Colin offered, though he couldn’t have any understanding of what they were talking about, which only made Penelope love him even more. 

“Polar bear!” Sophie shouted excitedly. “I always knew I would like you, Colin Bridgerton.”

Penelope blushed again as Colin tipped her chin up, preventing her from avoiding eye contact as she was so carefully trying to do. 

“You’ve been talking about me, Pen,” he said softly, stroking his thumb over the apple of her cheek. 

She glanced over toward his brother before meeting his gaze again. “So have you, Col.”

“All the time,” he whispered, his eyes flicking down to her lips then back up again. 

“That’s a damn polar bear if I’ve ever seen one,” Sophie muttered. 

Penelope giggled and buried her face in Colin’s chest, peeking out toward her best friend as Ben and Reggie returned from the little chat they’d been in the corner of the room. 

“Well, Sophie, you’re getting a two-for-one deal tonight,” Benedict announced, pausing momentarily as he seemed to realize what he just said while everyone but Reggie—who was too busy pouting—laughed. “There’s no point letting a good reservation go to waste and it looks like these two,” he pointed to Colin and Penelope, “have some…catching up to do.”

“A man on each arm? I’m certainly not one to skip out on such a thrilling offer,” Sophie said demurely, offering the men a curtsy simply because she knew it would make Penelope laugh, and shooting her a wink when she did just that. 

Beckoning to Colin to come closer, Penelope whispered in his ear, “She’s good to go with Ben, right?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. She’s unlikely to need a penguin call with Ben,” he teased, waggling his brows at the surprise on her face. “You two are adorable, but very very obvious.” 

“Shut up,” she murmured, though there was no bite to it. 

He laughed and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “Can I make you dinner once they go?”

“I would love that. Just let me say bye to Soph really quick, okay?” Recognizing the worry in his eyes, she lifted her hand and stroked her thumb over his jaw to soothe the tension that had returned. “I’m staying, Col.”

“I’m sorry, I know,” he nodded as he removed his hand from around her waist. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she promised, pushing up to the very tips of her toes so she could press a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

On the way to her best friend, Penelope passed Ben, who was heading toward his little brother; it took everything in her not to watch their interaction as she tugged Sophie out of Reggie’s earshot. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” she asked quietly. 

“Okay with this? Pen, I’m fucking ecstatic about this! What are the chances that Colin fucking Bridgerton crashes our double date?” 

“Apparently not zero,” Penelope deadpanned. 

“He’s even hotter than the pictures you showed me.” Her roommate’s eyes drifted to where the Bridgerton brothers stood. “His brother, too—wanna climb that like a tree.”

“Colin gave his seal of approval on that, by the way,” she offered. “Total polar bear of a situation, though Reggie might not be too happy about that.” 

“Reggie also started drooling when he was ogling you right in front of me tonight, so I don’t really feel too bad about whatever does or doesn’t happen with his roommate,” Sophie shrugged. 

“That’s my girl,” Penelope giggled. “Be safe, please.” 

The brunette gasped and placed a hand over her chest. “Penelope Anne Featherington! I always use protection.”

“So not what I meant,” she groaned. “But I’ll take it.” 

“Hell yeah, you will,” Sophie teased. 

“Hey! We are not—we’re just…catching up,” Penelope protested. 

“Ahh, is that what the kids are calling it these days?” 

“You’re the worst,” Penelope laughed. Then she took a deep breath and pulled Sophie in closer. “I’m scared, Soph. I’ve spent the last few years thinking that he either hated me or forgot I existed, and now he’s here and–and he’s Colin.”

“I know, Pen, but you said it yourself. He’s Colin, and I think it’s pretty obvious that he still loves you.”

“As a friend,” Penelope added. 

“Sure, babe,” Sophie nodded. “As a friend. Just talk to him, Pen, and promise me something, will you?”

“Of course.”

“Listen to him. Believe him, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, deciding not to ask what exactly Sophie meant by that. 

After a quick hug and a promise from both of them to call with any penguin-related emergencies, Penelope watched her roommate walk out the front door for their double date. Just as they disappeared from view, she felt Colin come to stand by her side, his gentle hand wrapping around her elbow as he turned her toward him.

“Shoes off, first,” he murmured, laughing when she eagerly kicked off her heels and sighed in exaggerated relief. In an instant, she was back in his arms, linking her hands behind his back as he tucked her against him, one arm slung low on her back and the other up higher so he could cradle her head right where he wanted her—her ear settling directly over his pounding heart. She felt him press a kiss to the top of her head before resting his chin there, a hum of pure contentment vibrating through his chest. “Much better.”

Penelope giggled and held him tighter, letting her soft curves mold themselves to his muscled body, her eyes drifting shut as the fingers at her waist flexed in response. 

“I missed that sound,” Colin said softly. 

“What sound?”

“Your laugh—it was always my favorite,” he answered, and she tried to pull back to look at him, but he only held on tighter and she felt his head shake above her. “Five years, sweetheart. Give me a little bit longer.”

She nodded against him, rubbing circles into his back in a silent apology. They stayed that way for a long time, making up for the five years she’d kept them apart as she gathered her thoughts for the real apology he was owed. It didn’t matter that he didn’t seem to hold a grudge for the way she’d slipped away from him; it didn’t matter that she had truly believed in her reasons for doing so at the time. He was her best friend and he deserved the truth—could she give it to him? 

Six months ago, she wouldn’t have thought so, but if there was one thing she’d learned recently, it was that the scary things were the ones that were the most worth it. Besides, she could be honest about the decision she’d made without scaring him away now; she could tell him how she felt at the time without telling him that she was in love with him still. And perhaps they could have this back for good—or at least, whenever he was back in town from his travels. Perhaps the emails she’d stopped replying to and the phone calls she’d started to ignore would begin again. Perhaps it could turn into something more, though it probably wasn’t a good idea to get her hopes up, not when she was only just now being granted a second chance at being his best friend—the most important title she’d ever held. 

It was Colin’s growling stomach that finally broke them apart—begrudgingly, even then—as they laughed. He twined his fingers with hers and guided her through the little house to the kitchen, where he’d come from when she’d first spotted him. It appeared as though he’d abandoned his dinner right in the midst of preparing it, and he chuckled when she pointed that out. 

“I had more important things to attend to,” he said as he caught a lock of her hair between his fingers. “Is pesto still your favorite?”

“Of course,” she smiled, loving that he remembered.

“Great, because I already made it,” he grinned. 

“You made pesto?” 

“I’m not completely helpless in the kitchen, Pen…anymore,” he added when she narrowed her eyes. “Let me prove it to you? You don’t have to do anything but keep me company.”

“What if I want to help?” she challenged.

“I’ll let you help with the dessert,” Colin offered with a wiggle of his brows, his navy eyes shimmering and smile broadening when she giggled again and nodded her agreement. 

With a gentle tug on her arm, he moved them around the kitchen island and briefly caged her in as his hands rested on the countertop to either side of her; her breath hitched and there was a flash of something in his gaze, which she could have sworn dropped to her lips again. Then, without warning, he placed his hands on her hips and easily lifted her to sit atop the island. Colin laughed heartily at her squeal of surprise and tapped the tip of her nose with his finger, pulling it quickly out of the way when she tried to bite it and moving his hands back to the counter, his expression softening as he studied her face intently. 

Twisting her hands together in her lap, Penelope asked, “What is it?”

“Five years, Pen,” he repeated, melancholy lacing his tone for the first time tonight. 

“I know, Col.” 

“Do you?” he asked, so quietly she barely heard him. “Because I wasn’t the one who disappeared, Penelope. I wasn’t the one who took myself away from you without giving you a reason. I was the one left missing you without a clue of what I’d done wrong. I was the one left lo–” Colin cut himself off with a sharp inhale and a shake of his head, as though he might be able to will the tears that had begun to brim in his eyes not to fall. Penelope didn’t bother, allowing her own to escape freely as she reached for him, her hands cupping his jaw to keep his gaze locked on hers. 

“Colin–” 

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted her attempt to apologize. “I promised myself I wouldn’t do that. You don’t owe me any–”

“Yes, Colin, I do,” Penelope said. “I owe you a whole lot, actually, starting with I’m sorry. And I swear I’ll tell you everything, okay? Just–just please believe me when I say that I’m so sorry, Col, I really never meant to hurt you.”

“God, I know that, sweetheart. You would never.” 

Brushing the tears that slid down his his cheeks away with her thumbs, Penelope stared into the eyes of the man she loved—the man who had always led with kindness, with care, with love; who still somehow trusted her enough to know that she had not hurt him on purpose—and she leaned forward, watching his eyes flutter closed as she pressed her lips to his forehead, to his eyelids, to his nose, his cheeks, and finally his lips. The kiss was brief, barely more than a peck, but she thought it might also have been the bravest thing she’d ever done. Resting her forehead against his, she waited until his gaze found hers once more, nothing short of wonder reflected in the denim blue of her dreams. 

“What was that for?” Colin whispered. 

“Just something I’ve wanted to do for a really long time,” she whispered back, letting her hands fall, her fingers trailing down his chest until they came to his waist.

“How long?”

Grabbing fistfuls of cotton in her fists, Penelope took a deep breath, knowing she had a different plan before coming into the kitchen and deciding that she didn’t really care to keep anything from him anymore—including herself. “Pretty much since the moment we met.” 

“Pen–”

“I–I want to tell you, Colin. I need to…before anything else, I need you to know why.”

“How about you talk while I make us dinner?” he asked, one hand lifting from the counter to twirl one of her auburn ringlets around his fingers.

Penelope nodded. “That sounds perfect.” 

“Perfect,” he echoed against her lips as he kissed her—softly, sweetly; it was so perfectly Colin. He smiled and tucked her curl behind her ear as he stroked his thumb over her rosy blush. “Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time, too.”

“How long?” she asked through her giggles as he ran his nose alongside hers, giving it a gentle nudge before leaning back. 

“See, now that’s a trick question, sweetheart. Because the real answer is the same as yours,” he said. “It just took me a little longer to catch up.” 

“How long, Colin?” 

He didn’t answer right away; he didn’t need to—the kindness in his eyes and the softness of the kiss he laid on her forehead told her enough. 

“Five years,” she answered for him, her words hardly more than a breath. 

“Yeah, Pen,” Colin sighed as he began to use the pads of his fingers to wipe away the remnants of her tears, his careful touch infused with such reverence that Penelope thought she might start crying again. “Just about.”

“I didn’t know,” Penelope told him. 

“Neither did I,” he said with a sad smile, running his hands up and down her arms. “I’m going to make us some dinner, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, but she didn’t let him go quite yet. She needed him to know one more thing first. “Colin?”

“Hmm?” 

“I never stopped,” she whispered. 

His strong brow knitted together. “What do you mean?”

“Just…before I tell you what happened, I need you to know that it never went away for me. Not just wanting that, but–but wanting you, needing you, missing you…loving you,” she paused at the sound of Colin’s breath catching, refusing to tear her gaze away this time in hopes that he could see the truth of her—of them—in her eyes. “I never stopped.” 

“Pen, I–”

“No, don’t say anything yet,” she rushed out. “I just need you to promise you’ll remember that while I’m talking.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Colin said, tipping her chin up so he could capture her lips once more and pulling away much too soon. “I promise. I’m also going to cook now, or I’ll just keep kissing you.”

“How terribly dreadful that would be,” Penelope muttered under her breath, preening when he threw his head back laughing. 

“Insatiable,” he teased, even as he offered her another. 

He lingered just a little longer this time, their mouths parting slightly in a shared breath, a kiss that felt like coming home after a very long day; they were perfectly in sync, as though they had spent years preparing for this very moment—which, Penelope supposed, they had. She sighed as his forehead found hers again, peering up into his shimmering eyes and wondering if he could see the same adoration shining back in her own. 

“Stay right here,” he commanded in the sweet and low timbre that seemed to wrap around her like a warm blanket.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby,” she promised, laughing when he groaned, then gently pushing on his shoulders. “Go make us dinner.”

“Last one,” he spoke against her lips before proceeding to pepper kisses all over her face until she was a giggling mess. “I’m going now.” 

“Okay,” Penelope grinned, closely watching the indecision on his face and bracing herself just in time for another brief peck. He spun away before she could reach out to stop him; it was probably for the best, as her stomach rumbled rather loudly a moment later. 

Colin peeked back over his shoulder. “How would you feel about bowls of cereal at the counter instead?” 

“I would feel very, very good about that,” she laughed. 

Penelope watched Colin move about the kitchen, first putting away everything he’d originally gotten out, then collecting what appeared to be the biggest bowls he could find, two spoons, milk from the fridge, and a brand new box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch that he held up for her as he waggled his brows.

“The taste you can see!” she exclaimed happily. 

“Cinnamon swirls in every bite,” Colin added with a chuckle, beginning to open the box and pausing to glance up at her. “This still counts as making dinner, which means the floor is yours, Featherington.” 

She knew he was right, knew she couldn’t put it off any longer, and she’d already told him the scariest part. It was possible that he wouldn’t understand, that her explanations wouldn’t be good enough, but as she watched him pour a heaping bowl of her favorite cereal for her, his tongue poking out between his teeth while he got the milk ratio just right, Penelope could scarcely believe that the man who remembered exactly how she liked her cereal wouldn’t forgive her for what she’d done. He was Colin, after all. 

Her Colin. 

And perhaps the only reason a woman like her didn’t end up with a man like him was because she was too scared to try. 

She started with the day they met—the day that had changed everything for her—but she didn’t linger for too long in the three years they spent together, because he had been there for it all. The only thing he really needed to know from that time was that she had spent every single day falling deeper into love with him; so deep, in fact, that she hadn’t known what to do with herself when he left her behind to follow his dreams. She’d never held it against him, of course—no one deserved the chance to do exactly what they’d always imagined for themself more than Colin. 

Two things could be true, however, and knowing that he was living the life he was meant for hadn’t stopped her heart from breaking. 

And so she convinced herself that his calls, his emails, his postcards sent from every new place he went over that first year that he was gone were borne of some perceived responsibility; she told herself that she was more of a nuisance to him than anything and that he would be better off without her. In truth, her decision to stop answering had merely been an attempt to protect herself, having believed that there was no world in which he would ever want her the way she wanted him, let alone love her the way she loved him. 

The calls had been the first to stop, then the postcards, but the emails had continued well into her relationship with Alfred—the relationship she’d settled for because she thought it was what she deserved—and only ended after she let Colin’s final plea for a response go unanswered. But that didn’t mean she hadn’t stayed up to date on his life; that didn’t mean she hadn’t read every article he’d ever written until she practically had them memorized. No matter what she did, no matter how much time had passed, it had been impossible for her to stop caring about him, to stop craving his presence—to stop loving him.

She still hadn’t stopped, she didn’t think she ever would, and she no longer saw a reason to hide that from him. So between bites of cinnamon sugar goodness shared over a kitchen counter—a tradition they’d had during college in the break room at the paper—she told him everything, leaving not a single stone unturned, including the fact that she had moved here because of him. Not for him, necessarily—she’d held no notion that he would ever want to see her again—but because she had been willing to bet that a place that he had once called home might have been just what she needed to find herself again. 

To find the woman he’d once known her to be. 

The woman she’d allowed to slip away when she’d let him go. 

“It worked, didn’t it?” Colin asked—the first words he’d spoken, having listened to her so intently throughout. 

“What worked?”

Without saying a word, Colin took her nearly empty bowl from her hands and placed it on the counter next to his own, ghosting his thumb over her cheek before walking out of the room and leaving her alone in the kitchen with no idea what was going on. He returned moments later with something in his hands; a magazine, she realized, as he came to stand directly in front of her. But it wasn’t just any magazine—of course it wasn’t. Colin flipped to the essay she’d written and set it down on her lap, tracing his finger over the byline before bringing his gaze back to hers. 

“You found my Pen,” he said, his voice softer than she had ever heard it before. 

“You read it?” 

“Sweetheart, I’ve read everything you’ve ever written.” 

“How? I don’t share it anywhere.” 

“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of a Google Alert, Pen,” Colin teased, leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose as she playfully glared at him. He lifted a hand and tangled his fingers in the ends of her curls, absently twirling them as his other hand settled at her hip, his thumb rubbing those same circles into her curves. “Is it my turn to talk now?”

“Yes, but only if you kiss me fir–” Penelope was interrupted as he quickly acquiesced to her demand; she laughed into his kiss and felt him smiling against her lips. Once again, he was gone too soon, returning just as swiftly so that he could kiss away her pout. She sighed, one of her hands finding his way to his cheek and the other pulling him closer at his waist, as he suckled lightly on her lower lip before releasing it with a slight pop that made her giggle. 

“Sufficient enough for you, sweetheart?” 

“For now,” she grinned as he placed his hand over hers and turned his head to the side to press a kiss to the center of her palm before moving them both to her lap, twining their fingers together. 

“I think maybe I should start at the beginning,” he said, waiting for her to nod before, well, beginning. “I remember the day we met like it was yesterday. Not just because you knocked me on my ass,” he paused to roll his eyes as she laughed, “but because it was the first time I ever heard my favorite sound; because it was the first time I ever saw my favorite person; because it was the first time I fell for you—literally, but also metaphorically, even if it did take me a while to realize it.

“I spent three years falling for you, Pen. I had three years of your laugh and your light and your love, and it wasn’t until I left that I started to understand why those three years hadn’t felt like nearly enough. I found myself wanting more of you at the exact same time that you started pulling away, and for a while, I made excuses—not just for why you must be doing it, but also for why it hurt me so badly that you were. It didn’t take long for me to figure it out, to know with certainty that I was in love with you, and that I had been for a very long time. I finally worked up the courage and came back to New York just once to try to talk to you in person but when I found you, you were with him—with Alfred.”

Penelope’s mouth dropped open at his admission; she’d had no idea that he had ever come back to the city. If she had, she would have—well, she wasn’t sure she would have done anything differently, not unless Colin had stood in front of her and declared his love right then and there. 

His love. 

Because he loved her. 

Had always loved her. 

She lifted their joined hands to her mouth to kiss the back of his, encouraging him to continue.

“I ran away with my tail between my legs and the understanding that I had figured it all out too late, but I couldn’t let you go. That’s why the emails continued for a while after that—just in case, you know? I tried, Pen. I tried to get over you, to stop missing you, to stop loving you, but I couldn’t, and the truth is, I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to know a life where you weren’t the most important person in it. I didn’t want to know a world where you weren’t by my side. 

“I don’t know if it was some kind of fool’s hope, but I clung to every piece of your writing that I could find because I knew it wasn’t you. It was beautiful, it was always beautiful, but I couldn’t find my Pen anywhere in it. Not until six months ago, when glimpses of her—of you—started reappearing. I started working up the courage again to reach out, to see if maybe there was a chance that you might want to be my friend again. Then last week, I read this and I found out you were here and I knew I had to come home to you. I had to know, sweetheart. I couldn’t–I couldn’t go any longer without knowing, so I finished my assignment and cancelled the rest. I got here last night.” 

“Colin,” Penelope breathed, his name the only word she could manage as tears streamed down her face. Colin carefully brushed them away before he cradled her cheek in his palm, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips when she leaned into his touch. 

“I love you, Pen. And I’m so sorry that I ever let you think that you were anything but everything to me. Even then, even when I didn’t know…you were my best friend, my person, my Pen. You were everything from the very beginning. You’ll always be everything.”

“I love you, Colin. And I’m the one who should be sorry for all of it really, because not a single day has passed that I haven’t thought about you or missed you or loved you. You’re my best friend, my person, my Colin.” 

“Yours, sweetheart,” he said as he dropped his forehead to hers. “Always yours.”

“Mine,” she murmured against his lips, kissing him once, twice, a third time, before rubbing her nose over his. “I’m yours too, baby—in case that wasn’t clear.”

“Mine,” he echoed as he nipped at her lips, then tilted her chin up so he could press a sweet kiss to each of her cheeks, and then the tip of her nose. “Will you give me two minutes to clean up?” 

Penelope pretended to consider that before shaking her head. “Too long.”

“One?”

“Thirty seconds, but only to put the milk away and hide the cereal for later.”

“Deal,” he said as he kissed her forehead and spun on his heel to return the carton to the fridge and place the box on the highest shelf, glancing back over his shoulder with a wink. “Reggie can’t reach that one.”

She giggled and watched as he quickly set their bowls in the sink, coming back to stand in front of her and wiping feigned sweat from his brow. 

“You’re such a dork,” she laughed. 

“And yet, you love me,” Colin shrugged, reaching out to settle his hands on her hips, which were now much closer to the edge of the counter as Penelope had scooted herself forward when he wasn’t looking. He noticed anyway—of course he did—and raised a brow, his eyes darkening a moment later when she let her legs fall open, her dress riding up indecently higher. It only took him a second to fill the space with his large body, his hands drifting down the silk until they reached her pale, supple skin. He ghosted his fingertips over her thick thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his path, both of their gazes following his every move as he lit a fire within her. 

“Colin,” she whined and shifted her hips, in need of more and already soaking wet for him—unsurprising, really; he had always had that effect on her. 

His fingers pressed harder into her flesh, digging in in the most delicious way as he spread her legs just slightly farther apart so he could step even closer, letting her feel how hard he was for her. She gasped at the contact, reaching for him immediately to bring his mouth back to hers, winding her fingers through his hair and swallowing down his moan as she tugged at the curls. Their tongues danced while his hands moved up her thighs, sliding under the skirt of her dress and kneading her ass as he brought her to the very edge of the countertop, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist and lifting her without ever breaking their kiss. 

Penelope moaned as his erection pressed against her hot center, tearing her lips from his with a gasping breath before kissing her way over his cheek and jaw, nibbling at his earlobe and sucking at the sensitive skin just underneath it. Colin’s grip on her tightened in response, another groan ripping through his when she rolled her hips. 

“Take me to bed, baby,” she whispered, purposefully brushing her lips on the shell of his ear and delighting in his answering shiver. He nodded and immediately carried her out of the kitchen, allowing her to tilt his head to the side so she could continue tending to his perfect neck, laying kisses down the column of his throat and scraping her teeth over his pulse point before soothing it with her tongue. Pulling his skin between her lips, she sucked gently, then harder when he squeezed her ass again. 

“Feels so good, sweetheart,” he sighed. “Mark me, Pen. Let everyone know who I belong to.”

His words sent another rush of desire through her, her hips grinding against him once more as she redoubled her efforts, hardly aware of where they were going until the sound of a door closing had her pulling back to check her surroundings. They were in a small guest room that appeared to double as a paint studio—Ben’s, she assumed, remembering the stories Colin had told her about his artist brother. She didn’t have long to look around, however, as her back was pressed up against the door in a matter of seconds, her mouth captured in a desperate kiss by the man of her dreams. 

They were both panting for air as his forehead settled on hers and their gazes locked, the denim blue of his eyes swallowed almost entirely by the blacks of his pupils as his need threatened to overwhelm him, exactly as hers did. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long, Pen,” he murmured. “Wanted you for so long—only you.” 

“You have me, baby,” she promised him. “I’m yours, Col—only yours.” 

“Mine,” he whispered as he ground his hard cock into her.

“Yes,” she gasped and nodded. “Yes, baby. Make me yours.” 

“Soon, sweetheart,” he spoke into her ear, holding her up with one hand now while the other snaked in between them, his fingers inching up her thigh and under her dress until he reached her panties. “Fuck, Pen, you’re so fucking wet, honey.” 

“For you, Col,” she moaned as he nimbly moved the soaked lace aside and dragged a knuckle through her folds, easily sliding through her arousal before his thumb found her clit and traced the lightest of circles over it. Her hips bucked at the contact and he nipped at her earlobe. 

“So sensitive,” Colin said, his voice deep and gravelly. 

He pressed just a little harder and circled her bud, kneading her ass and sucking on the skin just below her ear at the same time. Penelope cried out and her head fell back against the door. Colin continued to meticulously take her apart, piece by piece—touching her so perfectly, as though she were an instrument he’d been born to play, and kissing his way down her neck to her chest. Eager for more, she tugged at the top of her dress to expose as much of her breasts as she could, lifting them for him as he began to use his lips, teeth, and tongue to bring her to the brink of her pleasure. 

“Fuck, baby, gonna make me come,” she said between breaths, and he nodded against her, pulling her nipple in between his teeth before suckling at her, his thumb moving even faster. It was when she blinked her eyes open, unable to keep her gaze away from him for long, and found him peering up at her under his long lashes, his deep blue eyes filled with every bit of love he had always carried for her, that Penelope’s orgasm washed over her. His name fell from her lips over and over again until she melted back against the wooden door, coming back to earth—back to him—as he left a smattering of light kisses all over her face. 

Pure, unadulterated bliss—that was what it was to be loved by Colin Bridgerton. 

Lacing her fingers through his hair once more, Penelope brought his forehead back to hers so she could properly look at him again; meeting his enraptured gaze, she found joy and lust and love and peace dancing together in the pools of navy blue. He nuzzled his nose against hers, kissing her softly when she giggled. 

“So damn beautiful, sweetheart,” he murmured against her lips. 

“I love you,” she whispered, and the truth of those three words was so loud on its own that it was almost as though she’d yelled it. 

“I love you,” he whispered back, just as loudly. 

“I know.” She kissed him again, paying special attention to his plush bottom lip and laughing at the needy whine he emitted when she tugged on his curls and let her head fall back to the door again. “Col, baby?”

“Yes, Pen?”

“I’m going to need you to fuck me now.” Colin’s mouth fell open in surprise, his eyes turning black again almost instantaneously, and Penelope dropped a peck on the tip of his nose, beaming down at him. “Only if you want–”

He cut her off with a searing kiss, making sure to press his erection against her center and moaning into her mouth when she rolled her hips over him. Breathless when they separated, he brought his lips to her ear. “It’s not even a want at this point, sweetheart. I need you.”

“Then take me to bed,” she challenged. 

“Mmmm, I have one more thing I need to do first,” he murmured, sucking gently on her earlobe for a moment before pulling back to look at her. “I do unfortunately have to put you down now.”

“Needs must, I suppose,” Penelope teased, delighting in the chuckle that rumbled through his chest as he set her feet back on the hardwood floor and crowded her against the door. 

She tilted her chin back to peer up at him, her hands trailing down his abdomen to the hem of his shirt and sneaking underneath it to press her palms to his hot skin while her thumbs traced over his waistband. He dropped his forehead to the door above her, his breathing turning shallow when she slipped a hand under the elastic and wrapped her fingers around his cock, swiping her thumb over his leaking tip and smearing his precum over him as she pumped him a couple of times. Colin’s hips jolted forward and one of his hands moved to grip the ample flesh of her ass, massaging her through her silk dress before sliding the material out of his way so he could touch her bare skin. 

“This—fuck, Pen—this was not what I had in mind,” he grunted. 

“No?” she asked innocently, batting her eyelashes. 

“No, honey, because if you keep touching me like that, this will be over before I can get inside you.” 

“And what if I changed my mind?” Penelope asked, moving her other hand over his muscled front, letting her fingers memorize the feel of him. “What if I want this first?” 

“Say the fucking word, sweetheart,” he moaned, his fingers flexing against her as she twisted her wrist. “You can have anything you want, Pen.”

“I want to watch you fall apart.” 

Colin nodded, seemingly at a loss for words as she continued to work her hand over him in earnest. She watched, completely transfixed, as his handsome face was overcome by his own pleasure—his eyes fluttered closed, his mouth dropped open in a perfect O, his cheeks stained a deep scarlet—and she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen anything sexier. 

“That’s it, baby,” Penelope purred. “So good, Col.”

His hips stuttered and a loud moan filled the room in response to her praise, and Penelope cocked her head. 

“You like being good for me,” she said—not a question, but he nodded anyway. Placing the palm of her other hand over his hammering heart, she let her touch ground him as he got closer and closer to the edge. “You always have been, baby. My good, sweet, beautiful Colin. I want you to come, Col. Want it all over my hand, can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Pen,” he gasped, giving her exactly what she wanted mere seconds later as he came, his face contorted with ecstasy as he shouted her name, his cum spurting from his tip and dripping down to coat her fingers.

She spoke quietly to him, helping him find his way back to her with soft affirmations and promises she knew she would keep. His eyes eventually met hers again, and it was pure, unadulterated bliss that she found there. Removing her hand from his softening cock, she brought it to her lips, moaning around her fingers as the taste of him flooded her senses; it wasn’t until Colin’s fingers dug further into her flesh that she fully realized what she was doing, opening her eyes and finding him staring hungrily at her. He wrapped his other hand around her wrist, pulling it gently away and replacing it with his mouth, licking into hers and kissing her with such intensity she thought her legs might give out. 

Before she knew it, he was pressing open-mouthed kisses down her throat and over her partially exposed breasts, sinking to his knees in front of her and peering up at her for permission she eagerly gave, lifting her dress up to her waist. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her thong and began to shimmy it down her thighs, his hands trailing along with it and touching every inch of her that he could before helping her step out of her panties, making sure she was watching as he lifted the lace to his nose and inhaled deeply. 

“You just might be the most delicious meal I’ll ever have, sweetheart,” Colin told her as he dropped them to the floor and circled his long fingers around ankle, hiking her leg up over his shoulder. Her breath left her as he licked a single stripe over her, one of her hands weaving through his curls and her hips canting toward him in response, wanting to keep him there. He looked up at her under his lashes and nodded his approval. “That’s it, Pen. I want you to use me, honey.” 

Not wasting a second, Penelope tugged on the strands of his hair and brought his mouth back to her dripping pussy, watching intently as he started to devour her. Her whines and moans and whimpers drifted around them, mingling with his own obscene noises as he so obviously enjoyed every moment he spent between her legs. She’d never experienced anything like it, having always been made to feel like going down on her was some kind of dreaded chore—but not for Colin. 

Colin Bridgerton ate her like a man starved, practically begging for her to use him for her pleasure with every feral moan that ripped through him when she ground her pussy down on his face. It felt like only seconds had passed before her second orgasm of the night—the second any man had ever been responsible for giving her—hit her, her arousal flooding from her as her body went taut above him. Colin didn’t stop, however, happily drinking down everything she had to offer him and teasing her entrance with two thick fingers, barely giving her a chance to come down all the way before pushing inside of her. She cried out, her eyes squeezing shut and head dropping against the door as he began to pump his hand, curling his fingers forward with every thrust. Her walls pulsed around him as she found herself hurtling toward the edge once again. It was when he closed his lips around her clit, sucking it into his mouth, that she came for a third time, harder than she ever had before. 

She felt like she was floating outside of her body, hardly aware of his gentle licks and slowed fingers while he guided her back home to him, her limbs feeling like jelly as she went limp—certain now that he was the only reason she was still upright. 

As though he knew she was only seconds away from melting into the floor, Colin stood and scooped her up into his arms in one swift motion, carrying her to the bed and sitting on the edge while he cradled her in his lap, rubbing her back and massaging her scalp. Soothed by his whispered words and reverent touch, Penelope’s eyes brimmed with tears, having rarely allowed herself to even think that being loved so thoroughly and so well was anything but a far-fetched dream. 

The dream of him—of her Colin—as she had always known that there would never be another who could compare. 

The dream of them. 

Colin and Penelope. 

Penelope and Colin. 

She had dreamt of it so often that she could hardly believe that the truth of them still somehow managed to be better than anything in her wildest fantasies. 

Rearranging herself on his lap, she looped her arms around his neck and smiled when he dropped a kiss to her nose, then pressed his forehead to hers. “Hi, baby.”

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” he said with a grin, his eyes brightening when she giggled. “I might have gotten a little carried away there.” 

“Mmm, I like you carried away,” she murmured, kissing him softly. “It’s never—I’ve never…well, um, it’s never been like that for me before.” 

Colin’s brow furrowed as he pulled back. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve never had a partner who cared about my pleasure, who made sure that I was taken care of, and I just, listen, I know it sounds weird but I wanted to thank you…”

Anger flashed in Colin’s gaze—a rare sight, though not entirely unexpected as he seemingly understood the weight of what she was saying—but it was gone in an instant, every part of his face softening as he tipped her chin up and brushed away the single tear that had finally escaped. 

“Penelope, my love, you never have to thank me for that. I wish–I wish you’d never had to know what it was like not to have someone who took care of you, but I need you to know that doing that for you, it means everything to me. Nothing has ever felt like that for me before; no one has ever made me feel so…right. Giving you pleasure, watching it wash over you—it makes me feel so fucking good, Pen.” 

“I love you so much, Colin,” Penelope whispered.

“I love you, Pen, more than I ever knew was possible.”

Snuggling in against his chest, Penelope felt Colin’s deep hum as he wrapped his arms tighter around her, resting his chin on the top of her head. For a long moment, they simply allowed themselves to exist—together, as they always should have been. It was only when she shifted over his legs that she felt his hardness once again, biting her lip as a groan slipped from him. Leaning back, she locked her blue eyes onto his.

“Make me yours, Colin. Please.”

“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he said as he captured her mouth for a kiss. 

“Only want you,” she sighed. 

“I’m yours, my love,” he promised her before helping her off his lap so she could stand, keeping her between his legs as he stroked his hands over her thighs and grabbed the hem of her dress. After waiting for her nod, he slowly lifted it, dragging the silk up her body and letting it fall to the floor behind her as she was left completely bare before him, having never felt more beautiful before than under the gaze and the touch of the love of her life. 

“Your turn,” she said, gripping the bottom of his tee and giggling when his arms immediately shot into the air for her to take it off of him. Penelope could tell he was straining to keep still as she explored him, leaving not a single speck of him untouched. “You’re beautiful.”

“So are you,” he breathed, the tips of his ears turning pink to match the apples of her cheeks. 

“C’mere.” Penelope took his hands and tugged him from the mattress, slipping her fingers under his waistband and peering up at him for permission before pushing his shorts and boxers down in one go, his weeping erection springing free and bouncing against his abdomen. Colin placed his hands on her hips, stepping out of his clothes and kicking them to the side, then turning her around and guiding her until the backs of her thighs hit the bed. 

“Lie down, sweetheart,” he said quietly, and she hastily did as she was told, making him laugh when she scrambled to the center of the mattress, reaching out for him to join her. It only took him a moment to settle himself between her legs, hovering above her as he propped himself up on one of his forearms, his free hand leisurely tracing every one of her curves. “So fucking perfect, Pen. You don’t know how many times I tried to imagine you, how many times I dreamt of you, yet nothing even comes close to the real thing.” 

“I’ve only ever dreamt of you, Col,” she sighed as he continued to pour his devotion into her with his every touch. They both moaned when his fingers moved to her center and swiped through her folds.

“You’re so good and wet for me, honey,” he praised her, his eyes snapping back to hers as her hips lifted off the bed.  

“Only for you, baby,” she whimpered.

“Good girl,” he murmured as he pushed a large finger into her, then another, stretching her for his much larger cock, but it wasn’t enough—only he would be enough. 

“Please, baby,” Penelope begged. “I promise I’m ready, just need you.”

Colin nodded and kissed her sweetly, removing his fingers from her and preparing to give her exactly what she needed as he pressed the head of his cock at her entrance. He searched her gaze, turning to kiss the center of her palm when she placed it on his cheek; Penelope smiled and nodded, moving her other hand to his ass and urging him forward. Matching moans echoed off the walls of the small room as he slowly sank into her, filling her so wonderfully, so completely. After another nod, he pulled his hips back until only the tip of him was inside her, snapping them back in to fill her again.

And again.

And again. 

Setting a rhythm for them while her own hips lifted to meet him, their gazes locked on each other as his forehead dropped to hers, the two of them making promises to one another that Penelope knew they would always keep.

They found home together. 

Made love together. 

Fell apart together. 

Their names and their love falling from their lips in the sweetest of refrains. 

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed there, wrapped up in each other, letting the reality of them seep into their marrow and settle into their bones. 

They eventually got out of bed, however, with Colin slipping one of his giant t-shirts over her head, the two of them laughing at the realization that it covered much more than her dress had. He slipped on a pair of shorts and carried her back to the kitchen, grabbing a pint of ice cream from the freezer and only a single spoon this time before he set her down on the island, standing between her legs as they passed the spoon back and forth, more often feeding each other than themselves. 

He had only just returned the carton to the freezer when they heard heavy footsteps coming up the front steps, along with unmistakable drunken grumbling, and she giggled as he unceremoniously scooped her right back up and ran back to the guest room before anyone—Reggie, almost certainly—saw them. Listening behind their door, they had to bite back their laughter as their suspicions were confirmed by the man himself, ranting about double dates; when he used a few choice words about Sophie, Colin had to stop Penelope from rushing out the door to confront him, promising her that he would take care of it tomorrow. With another man, she might have suspected that he was trying to brush it under the rug, but there was no doubt in her mind that Colin would do exactly as he said. Still, he almost changed his mind when Reggie said something that was clearly about Penelope, and it was she who had to hold him back. 

It turned out that it was easy to distract Colin, however; something she learned by pushing him back to sit on the edge of the mattress as she sank to her knees in front of him and took him in her mouth, quickly making him come and swallowing down every drop he had to offer as he bellowed her name. She sat back on her heels, quite satisfied with her performance and the fact that Reggie would know for certain that they were in here together. Understanding exactly what it was she was doing, Colin tugged her back to him, urging her to sit on his face so he could taste her again as she held onto the headboard for support. She came twice, screaming his name both times before collapsing on top of him. The slamming of the front door announcing Reggie’s departure from the bungalow made them burst into laughter.

With the house to themselves once more, they went to take a shower and had another bowl of cereal as they cuddled up on the couch and talked about anything and everything. After a while, Penelope’s eyes started drooping and it was getting harder to disguise her yawns; Colin wasn’t in any better shape, still recovering from jet lag from his trip home. They wandered back to bed, and the last thing she remembered was the press of his lips on the top of her head and a final whispered I love you as her eyes drifted closed.

She wasn’t sure she had ever had a better night’s sleep than she did with her back tucked against his chest, surrounded by his warmth, his care, his love. That is, of course, until they woke up at the crack of dawn and she felt him hard behind her. He’d made love to her then, using his cock and fingers to make her fall apart before asking her to stay just like that, warming him while they slept a little bit longer. 

Penelope awoke to the sound of a woman’s voice—one that was strangely familiar, but certainly not her best friend’s—outside of the guest room door.

“Colin, I swear—if you’re still sleeping,” the woman threatened, and Penelope blearily blinked her eyes open, looking back over her shoulder at her very confused boyfriend and watching realization wash over his face, a grimace forming on his lips just as the door flung open. “God, you are the worst. It’s already 9 o’clock! Oh fuck! God damnit, Colin.”

The woman had apparently realized he was very much not alone; however, instead of leaving, she simply covered her eyes as she continued to mumble about how ridiculous it was that he could have possibly found a woman to bring home within 24 hours of being back, along with something about Benedict being completely missing from the house as well. 

Considering Colin was still inside of her, Penelope wasn’t exactly in the position to see who it was, though context clues made it clear this was one of his four little sisters. She wasn’t sure why the voice sounded so familiar, though. She tried to disguise her whimper as he slipped from her, both of them sitting up against the headboard—luckily, Penelope was still in his shirt—but his sister barely seemed to notice as she paced the length of the room, which was also why she didn’t notice the way Penelope’s mouth dropped open as she immediately recognized Eloise Crane, a woman from the book club she and Sophie had joined when they first moved to San Diego.

“Eloise?!” Penelope blurted out, pausing Eloise’s ranting as she froze and turned to look at them properly. 

“Penelope?!” she shrieked. 

“You’re a Bridgerton?” Penelope asked.

At the exact same time, the brunette exclaimed, “Oh my god, you fucked my brother!”

“Um, I didn’t know he was your brother! You’ve never told me your maiden name before!” Penelope protested, crossing her arms over her chest as Eloise did the same. 

“So I take it you two know each other?” Colin asked, his tone laced with amusement. 

“We’re in book club together,” Penelope told him, turning her face up to look at him and leaning into his palm as he stroked her cheek. 

“Uh, still here!” They both laughed as they turned back to his sister, who did not find it nearly as funny as they did. “How did this even happen?”

“El, this is Penelope,” Colin said. 

“Yes, I know that,” she scoffed. 

“No, El, this is Penelope,” he repeated himself. “It’s Pen.”

Eloise’s mouth dropped open, her gaze flitting between the two of them. “Your Pen?”

Colin nodded. “Yeah, my Pen,”

“Well, what are the fucking chances of that?” she said as she threw her arms up, though her entire face had brightened as she smiled at them both. 

“Not zero, apparently,” Penelope offered, and both Bridgertons laughed and shook their heads in the exact same way—maybe she should have guessed they were related before now. 

Colin kissed her temple before looking at his sister once more. “I’m sorry, I totally forgot about breakfast.”

“It’s fine,” Eloise said, waving him off. “Ben apparently did, too. Who knows what he’s up to?”

“Um, about that…” Penelope said as she glanced up from her phone, having finally just checked it for the first time to see about twenty messages from Sophie that made it very clear what exactly they’d gotten up to last night. “I think I know where he is.”

Looking over her shoulder at the screen, Colin snorted and muttered, “Don’t show her that.”

“Don’t show me what? Where is he?” his sister demanded. 

Penelope and Colin shared a look and he shrugged, leaving it up to her to tell or not. Deciding it was probably best to rip the bandaid off, Penelope took a deep breath.

“Well, you see, we sort of went on a double date last night…”