Penelope’s POV

I laughed softly, my hands still pressed against his chest.

He leaned in one final time, kissed me, deep slow, like he was sealing a promise between us.

Then he stepped away and adjusted the collar of his shirt as if everything had happened so nonchalantly.

“Dinner is in fifteen minutes,” he said. “Don’t be late.”

And just like that, he was gone.

I stood there for one moment before I airborne and gasped again for a little bit before I caught a glimpse of myself in ...