Penelope's POV
I knew dinner was going to be tense, but this? This is a battlefield.
The dining table looks like something out of a family magazine: crystal glasses, linen napkins, Mom's signature roast chicken. But the air? Thick with tension. Almost combustible.
Nick hasn't looked at me once. Not since he walked in and saw Andrew sitting across the table like he belonged there. Mom, ever the peacekeeper, keeps refilling everyone's wine glass like getting us tipsy might smooth things over.
Spoiler: It won't.
Dad isn't here, he is on a business trip. Probably for the best.
And then she walks in.
Late.
Tall, blonde, effortlessly stunning.
Andrew stands up. "Savannah. You made it."
Savannah?
Who the hell is Savannah?
She walks in like she owns the place and leans in to kiss Andrew's cheek. "Sorry I'm late. Traffic. And these heels."
He gives her a small smile, but it's tight. Controlled.
Nick arches a brow. "Didn't know you invited plus ones, Mom."
Mom waves a dismissive hand. "Oh, Savannah called just as I was confirming with Andrew. They used to date, remember? I figured it would be nice to catch up."
What. The. Actual. Hell.
My spine stiffens. I glance at Andrew, who is already watching me, his face unreadable.
Used to date?
She slides into the seat beside him. My seat.
And now I'm between my furious brother and Andrew's gorgeous ex, drinking merlot like it's a survival tactic.
Savannah's voice cuts through the awkward air like a polished blade. "So, Andrew. Still working at that auto shop downtown?"
He nods. "Running it now."
She smiles. "Of course you are. You've always had big dreams."
I bite the inside of my cheek.
Mom perks up. "Penelope just turned 22! We had a lovely little celebration."
"Aw," Savannah coos, looking at me like I'm a rescued puppy. "Still the baby of the house."
I meet her gaze. Smile sweetly. "Not quite. I think you've got that role covered."
Her smile falters.
Andrew coughs to cover a laugh. Nick scowls.
"So, Andrew," Nick says, his eyes hard, his tone colder than ice, "What are your intentions with my sister?"
Silence.
Everyone freezes.
Andrew sets down his glass slowly. "My intentions?"
"You heard me."
"They're not your business anymore."
Nick's chair scrapes sharply against the floor as he stands. "You think you can fuck her and get a free pass because we used to be friends?"
Mom gasps. "Nicholas!"
Savannah's brows shoot up.
I stand up too. "You don't get to make this about you, Nick!"
"The hell I don't! You're my sister!"
Andrew stands, his voice low but thunderous. "And she's a grown woman."
The heat spikes in the room. Everyone's shouting. Chairs push back. Wine spills.
And then Savannah rises, calm as ever. "Maybe this isn't the best night."
"You think?" I snap.
Andrew throws his napkin down. "We're done here. Penny, let's go."
I don't hesitate.
We walk out, leaving the perfect table in shambles behind us.
At Andrew's Apartment, the moment the door shuts behind us, I explode.
"What the hell was Savannah doing there?"
He sighs. "I didn't invite her. Your mom called me yesterday, and I told her I was coming. That was it."
"But she kissed you."
"On the cheek. And I didn't kiss her back."
I start pacing. "She was marking her territory."
He grabs my hand. "There is no territory. There is only you."
I pull away. "You didn't correct my mom. You didn't say anything when she sat in my spot."
He steps in, crowding me against the wall. "Because I was too busy watching you."
I suck in a breath.
"You were fire tonight, Penelope. You put her in her place without breaking a sweat. I couldn't stop thinking about dragging you under that table and showing you just how proud that made me."
I flush hard.
"You want to talk about territory?" he murmurs. "Then let me show you who you belong to."
He kisses me like he owns me—fast, wild, and unapologetic. His hands yank at the flannel I'm wearing, revealing bare skin beneath.
"You wore this to dinner?" he growls.
"You told me to."
"I didn't know you were naked under it."
"Liar."
He lifts me up, pressing me against the front door, mouth trailing fire down my throat.
Our clothes gone in a minute.
His fingers are rough. His pace unrelenting.
I gasp his name over and over, my nails digging into his shoulders.
We crash to the floor, tangled limbs and bruised lips, and when I come apart in his arms, I realize it's never felt this intense before. Never felt this desperate. Or this real.
He collapses beside me, panting. "I don't care what Nick thinks. Or Savannah. Or your mom. I love you."
I turn to him, eyes burning. "Then fight for me."
He pulls me into his arms. "I already am."