Jayden's heart skipped. His eyes widened; he hadn't expected that… not tonight, not this fast, not like this. For her to say those words… it stunned him. He could almost hear his pulse in his ears, hammering against his ribs, louder than the soft hum of the car's engine.
Penelope's confession still lingered in the air like smoke.
Penelope, meanwhile, immediately regretted it. Her mind spun in a thousand directions at once. Her cheeks burned, heat rising to her ears. She looked away, pressing her lips together as if she could stuff the words back inside her chest.
"Why did I say that?" she scolded herself. The words had slipped, unbidden, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. She wasn't supposed to say them. Not yet.
Jayden noticed her turmoil. He didn't move at first. He just studied her — the nervous flutter of her lashes, the way she chewed on her lower lip, the faint tremble in her hands. For a girl who often looked untouchable, Penelope suddenly looked… fragile. Vulnerable.
