Cassian

I notice Penelope chewing on her bottom lip, and I know it's because of me. When we got home from snowshoeing, Cecily called and asked if we wanted to come over for dinner. We were prepared to say no and spend the night in the hot tub, but we weren't the only ones who received an invitation. Patrick did, too. And Penelope didn't want to leave him alone with her parents. They might bombard him with questions, she said.

That's why we're walking up the front steps to her parents' house.

"How's the blister on your heel doing?" Pen asks as she opens the door. She gestures for me to enter first, which I do just to satisfy her. We have this thing going on. With small, polite gestures, we continue to one-up each other. I opened the car door for her, and now she's opening the door. It's entertaining. It causes the constant smile on my face.

As I'm kicking off my shoes, I test the tenderness of my heel. It hurts like a bugger. Friction from the heel of my snow boot while we were climbing hills caused the blister. By the end of our snowshoeing adventure, Pen had her arm threaded beneath my shoulders and was offering me as much support as she could. I tried to tell her she didn't need to help, but she insisted. We slipped and stumbled, doubling our walk across the parking lot. It was worth it, though.

I glance at Pen. She's still chewing on her bottom lip. "The heel's sore, but I'll be fine once I'm sitting down," I reply. "The painkillers helped with the throbbing." I flash her a smile, feeling the same nervousness visible on her face. Despite our conversation and the kiss, we didn't clarify where we stand. Is Penelope my girlfriend? I'm not sure. We both agreed to wanting to change this into something more than a friendship. We didn't discuss the boyfriend-girlfriend thing, though. It seems valid to just assume we're together after the conversation. I just... man, I don't know. I want to say she's my girlfriend—even if it feels like we're moving too fast. I'm treading on unfamiliar territory. Where do I draw the line? What is considered the right pace? I feel like I've been hit with a semi-trick lugging realization. I never realized how much I was suppressing my feelings for Pen. They're overwhelming. 

While Penelope organizes our shoes, I grab the bottle of wine I brought. For Cecily and Lincoln. I run a hand through my hair. Damn it. Why am I suddenly so nervous? My palms are clammy and my sweater is sticking to my back. What the fuck is wrong with me? I've talked to Pen's parents millions of times.

"Come on," Pen says, looping her arm through mine. She tugs me against her body, offering me support. I don't need it. It's not like I've sprained my ankle, but I let her take a bit of my weight. The smile on her face broadens. "Let's go have dinner with my parents and Patrick."

I haven't been to their place since the barbecue. Pen's childhood home is warm and comforting. It has a lake house feel, with warm grey walls and neutral furniture. Splashes of red accent across the space. The floors are a sandy-grey oak all throughout the house and the décor is suited for a lake house: portraits of Okanagan Lake and Lake Louise, oars and flannel patterns, stone decorating the columns, and iron pendant lighting.

Patrick toasts us as we enter the grand kitchen. The island is big enough to seat ten people. Where the overhang is, six bar stools are lined up, one of which is occupied by Patrick. "The couple has arrived!"

Penelope gives her brother a look.

Brother.

It still feels strange to refer to Patrick as Penelope's brother. 

"Sorry," Patrick grins. He switches his drink from one hand to the other. "I just assumed that after your date you two would commit." He mutters something at the end. Something I don't catch.

"Cassian isn't my boyfriend," Penelope says. She keeps her chin held high and her voice never falters. "We're testing things out."

"Isn't that what a first date is meant for?" Lincoln asks, his bushy brows connecting as he frowns.

Cecily slaps her husband's arm. "If they're not sure, they're not sure. Leave them alone, Lincoln." She flicks her glare to Patrick. "You too, young man. I may not be your mother, but you are my daughter's brother."

Patrick laughs and takes a sip of his drink. "So, Cassian's not your boyfriend?"

"No," Penelope replies.

"I'm not?" I blink, coming back to reality. My stomach drops. I'd been hoping she'd assume like me. Our conversation was close enough, wasn't it? We both confirmed we wanted more. Dating is unfamiliar territory. I've had a girlfriend before—I never bring a woman home unless I see potential for a serious relationship. But I've never felt like this. My feelings make me feel off balance.

She glances up at me, a blush spreading across her cheeks. A soft shrug lifts her shoulders before she turns to her parents and Patrick. "Will you excuse us for a moment? I need to talk to Cassian."

They respond with a nod.

Pen guides me down the hallway until we're far away from the kitchen. We're at the back door. Through the glass, I can see a view of the snow-covered mountains and grey lake. The yard looks different compared to the last time we were here. To be honest, I miss the warm weather. I miss the heat of the sun and the refreshing, cool water. When summer returns, I'm going to get Penelope in that lake. She needs to realize the Ogopogo doesn't exist. Though, it is amusing to watch her cower in fear next to the shoreline. Only in a teasing manner, of course.

"What's up?" I ask, leaning against the wall. I lift my injured foot from the floor; my heel is throbbing again. I'm trying to play it cool. When, really, I know what the fuck is up. She wants to discuss us. 

"We... We didn't confirm it." A crease forms between her brows. Although she looks nothing like her dad, the mannerisms remind me of him. I find it amazing how looks account for nothing. If I didn't know the truth, I'd never question Lincoln being her dad. They're very similar. "I mean... I want to. But I don't want to pressure you. You said you needed time."

A smile curves my lips. Pen always gets straight to the point. It's a characteristic I've always admired, and part of what has made her such a successful businesswoman. She's also always on the lookout for how other people are feeling. "You're not pressuring me. It's far from that."

Her blush deepens.

I glance down at the bottle of wine, picking at the label. "I assumed we were a, uh, couple already," I admit. "Our conversation was emotionally intense while snowshoeing. Was it too bold of me to assume?"

Penelope laughs softly, shaking her head. "Not too bold at all. I thought you wanted to take things slow, which is why I didn't allow myself to assume. I'd gladly be your girlfriend. If... if that's what you want."

I exhale deeply, running a hand through my hair. Fear is clawing at the back of my throat. The same fear of losing her. Of not being able to have her in my life. But it's combined with the fear of regret. If I don't take this chance, I'll regret it.

"Yeah," I smirk. "As long as I'm your boyfriend."

Penelope tosses her head back as she laughs, her blonde locks tangling around her shoulders. "Who else would be my boyfriend?"

"Yeah," I reply, tearing off the label from the bottle of red wine. "I wasn't thinking properly."

"That's okay," Pen says, pulling me into a hug. Her body is warm against mine and she smells of laundry detergent with a hint of vanilla. Every day, she smells different. She has about three different bottles of perfume and body spray in her suitcase. It's as if she can't decide on which perfume she likes more. Sometimes she smells like cinnamon and chocolate rolled into one. Other days she smells like spring—cherry blossoms and sunshine. Personally, I hope she continues to be undecided. "I don't think properly half the time I'm around you."

I tighten the embrace, wishing we could leave. A night in the hot tub would be better than having dinner with her parents and Patrick. "Keep telling yourself that, Pen," I snort. There isn't a moment where Pen isn't thinking properly. The only time I've seen her lose her composure is when she broke into the bathroom and saw me half-naked. My smile morphs into a grin—one I'm thankful she can't see. That's one of my favourite memories with Pen.

Just then, my phone goes off, ruining the moment.

"Damn it," I mutter, pulling away from Pen. I reach into my pocket and glance at the screen. It's Jake. Before I can apologize to Pen for the interruption, she takes the bottle of wine from me and smiles.

"I'll see you in the kitchen, okay? Take your time with Jake. It's been a while since you guys talked. I won't break the news to my parents until you're back." She signs off with a wink, leaving me in the hallway's darkness. The only light that spreads across the floor is from the back porch light.

Tapping the screen, I unlock the door and step out into the frigid air, bringing my phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Cassian," Jake replies. "How's it going?"

A thousand different feelings fill my chest at once. Although Pen and I have mutual feelings, things feel like they're moving too fast. Are we being reckless? People have different experiences with relationships. Some feel like they've known each other twenty years when it's only been two seconds. Some don't realize they've found their life-long partner until they've been friends for years. Love is spontaneous—you don't get to choose. You don't get to regulate how hard or fast you fall for them. Soon enough, their traits and quirks add up to something more.

"Jake," I sigh. "Is it possible for things to move too fast?"

"What are you talking about?" he asks.

I watch my breath dissipate into the air. The snow from earlier has cleared away, and the stars are dotting the sky. The wind is aggressive tonight, causing the waves to crash against the shore. I wrap one arm around my body, wishing I'd worn a thicker sweater. There isn't much out here to shield myself from the wind, but I want to keep this conversation between Jake and I private. Meaning, I must suffer through the cold.

"Penelope and I are dating," I say.

Jake stays silent for several seconds before congratulating me. "That's so awesome, man. I'm happy for the two of you."

The smile and pride in Jake's voice makes a warm feeling spread through my chest. Although we're not blood-related, Jake and I consider each other brothers. We're always seeking approval from one another and hoping to make the other proud.

"Thanks," I reply. "But... Is there such a thing as moving too fast? I feel like Penelope and I are."

"Yes," he replies. "If you feel you're moving too fast, then slow it down. Take her out on some dates. It'll help convert your friendship to a relationship."

I toe the line of snow with my socked foot. There isn't much space for me beneath the overhang; I'm leaning against the house to avoid my socks becoming soaked. The toe of my sock dampens instantly, which I regret. "It's not that I need help to convert our friendship to a relationship. I want to date her. I'm just worried we're moving too fast. That my judgement is clouded."

"By your fear of losing a friend?" Jake asks. There's a note of understanding in his voice. One I appreciate. 

Sighing, I run a hand through my hair. When Jake was living with me, I panicked every time he was late getting home. Not only because I was worried about Hanna losing her older brother but also because I didn't want to lose my best friend/brother. My mind always went to the worst situation. The he died in a car accident or went off a cliff into the ocean. It worried me so much I went through a phase where I tried to distance myself from him. The connection between us made me think I was too attached to him and Hanna, when that wasn't the case at all. There's nothing wrong with caring about family members and friends. I love Jake and Hanna like they're my own siblings, and no one can fault me for that. Even me.

Mom's right—my heart is too big.

However, potentially losing Pen as a friend isn't the only reason I fear my judgement is clouded. The feelings I have for her are strong. Am I doing the right thing by dating her? Or am I being stupid? That's why this feels too fast. While I'm sure of my feelings, I'm unsure of the decisions I'm making. I probably should've kept my mouth shut about the boyfriend thing. A few more dates would've been beneficial before making the decision. 

"I feel... uneasy," I reply. "As if my decisions aren't right. How do I justify changing my mind so quickly? I'm pretty fucking sure I focused on Ophelia to avoid dealing with my feelings for Pen, too. What the hell is wrong with me?"

"I understand, but never question your feelings. They are valid, no matter what your self-doubt tells you," Jake replies. He chuckles softly. "Remember the day you bitched at me about my shitty attitude?"

"How could I forget?" I snort. Jake was in a pissy mood at the office after he'd found out Gemma had stabbed him in the back with her pranks. He deserved it after the shit he pulled in high school. I'm not comparing the rumour to Gemma's pranks, but Jake got a taste of what being stabbed in the back by someone you love is like. He tasted betrayal and it hurt him. "You were being a dick. What does that have to do with Pen and I?"

"What did I do after?" he counters.

Fuck, I hate it when people throw questions back at me.

"You made things right with Gemma," I reply. This conversation feels like a kindergarten class activity—the kind where you have to fill in the blanks. I'm not pleased. "I still don't understand, Jake."

He sighs on the other side. "After the high school reunion, we talked it out. We laid boundaries and decided on transparency. Just discuss how you feel with Penelope, Cassian. I can assure you, you're not making any mistakes. We can't control who we fall in love with or how fast, but we can control the relationship. Don't let the unknown scare you." He pauses. "And by we, I don't mean men. We control nothing in relationships. I mean humans in general."

I roll my eyes. "Fuck. Not you, too."

"Sorry, man," he laughs. "I've been wanting you and Penelope together since we hired her."

Sighing again, I allow my gaze to sweep across the yard one more time. My toes and cheeks are numb. I need to head inside before I turn into a popsicle. "Your advice better not be shit," I warn. "Or else I'm coming after you."

Jake snorts. "Dude, I'm married and my wife is having a baby in March. I'm qualified to give advice."

We both laugh. Despite his thick skull back in high school, I trust Jake. He's been through the trials of a relationship and learned from his mistakes. A shiver violently jars my body. I ignore it. Pen's right, it's been too long since I've talked to Jake. I miss him. I'm about to ask him how Gemma's doing when he speaks.

"Christ. Are you outside or something? Your teeth are clattering."

I clench my jaw to prevent further noises. "I'm at Penelope's parents' house. They invited us and Patrick over for dinner."

"Yikes," Jake replies. "How's Cecily taking it? Last I heard, she wasn't pleased with Penelope trying to find her biological family."

"She's okay with it," I reply. "Pen had a discussion with Cecily about it, and everything's okay between them. Pen's brother is a good guy, too, and I think that's helped. Cecily was worried about the biological family being a group of assholes. At least the brother is nice."

"That's true," Jakes replies. "Well, I'll let you go now. Call me tomorrow so we can discuss business. I'm planning on coming up at some point, but only when I'm needed. Have fun with the family."

"Thanks, man," I say. "Talk to you soon."

"Bye, Cass."

After Jake has hung up, I pocket my phone and expel another deep breath. The cloud dissipates into the winter air. Being pulled in two different directions is an odd sensation. It's like my heart can't decide between emotions and logic. But Jake's right—this relationship is between Penelope and I. We can control it. We can learn from it. I have to remember I'm not alone in this. Pen is also understanding; she's already stated she doesn't want to pressure me. Somehow, I'm going to make this work. I will not allow my emotions to spook me.

With my jaw clattering, I step through the back door and head back to the kitchen where my girlfriend is waiting for me.