“Carbs. Heaven,” I murmur.
“My turn.” I stab a spear of broccoli and lift it to his lips. He takes it without hesitation, chewing with exaggerated seriousness. “No complaints?” I tease, handing him my soda.
“I always eat my veggies.” He tips his chin, smug, before drinking straight from the can. “I was a good boy.”
“You were a good boy, Penn,” I say without thinking.
His head cocks, curiosity sharpening his gaze. “What makes you say that?”
“You just… were. You never got in trouble at school. You lived in the library or the rink. You cared about your grades as much as hockey. And you were always nice to everyone.” My chest tightens at the unspoken truth, that not everyone had been nice to him.
“Yeah, well…” His mouth twists. “I wasn’t nice to Santa.”
I snort. “What did he do? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Penn’s eyes darken. “He was drunk. A little girl asked him for a pony, and he told her magic wasn’t real. Yanked his beard to prove it. She burst into tears, and he started ranting at the other kids in line. When he staggered off the stage, about to ruin Christmas for a dozen more… I tackled him.”
“With your fist.”
He shakes his head. “It ended up that way, yes. But dammit, someone needed to stop him.”
I blink, then grin. “You did what you had to do. But wait, how do you know she asked for a pony? Don’t tell me you were in line too.”
He shifts, uncomfortable.
“Penn.” I laugh, nudging him with my shoulder. “You were, weren’t you?”
“No,” he mutters, stuffing potatoes in his mouth. “I went to talk to her mother afterward. To make sure the little girl was okay.” He swallows, then drops the bomb. “Now I own a fucking pony.”
“You what?” My soda nearly sprays across the room.
“I bought it. Legally, it’s mine. But it’s hers. I just board it. She takes care of it.”
“Oh my God.” A laugh bubbles up, uncontainable. “You are the absolute sweetest.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes. You are.” I set the soda on the coffee table and lean closer, a grin tugging at my mouth. “If I said I wanted a pony?—”
“You’re not getting a pony.” His smirk is pure trouble. “But if you want something to ride…”
Heat curls low in my belly at his cocky grin. “Oh, but I do,” I whisper, laughing before my expression softens. “Seriously, Penn. You’re a good man, whether you believe it or not.” Warmth moves through my blood as he shrugs, like it’s hard for him to take a compliment. “I still remember all the awards you picked up at graduation,” I say, nudging him with my knee.
“I needed something to fall back on if the hockey thing didn’t work out.”
I tilt my head, curious. “What did you study again?”
“Computer science.” His lips curve slightly, like he knows it doesn’t quite fit the Penn everyone else sees. “It was something I actually enjoyed.”
I take another bite of pizza, chewing slowly as I process that. “That couldn’t have been easy, juggling hockey and coding and… everything.”
He shrugs, but I hate that he’s diminishing the effort he put in. “It’s all about time management. You did Public Relations, right? How was that?”
“I enjoyed it. I thought…” The words falter on my tongue, memories pressing down, but Penn finishes them for me, his voice gentle.
“You thought you and Dylan would take on the world together.”
A ghost of a laugh escapes me. “Yeah. Something like that.”