Any Way the Wind Blows (Simon Snow, #3)

by Rainbow Rowell

Holy shit, this is . . . This is not something I thought would happen. Penelope . . . She’s going to be mad about this, right? Like, this is not something she wanted to occur. But the way she was looking at me—like, if I didn’t kiss her, she was going to turn me into a frog—what was I supposed to do? Penelope . . . We can stop if you want to. She tilts her head and pushes closer. Our glasses tap against each other. I take mine off and set them as far away as I can reach, and then I bring my hand up to her shoulder. Her cheek is round and soft. Her shoulder is round and soft. I have a good feeling about the rest of her. Penelope kisses like someone who hasn’t done this very much. And that isn’t to say it’s bad—it’s very not bad. She just doesn’t seem to know what to do first. I hold her face in both hands and let her kiss me like she has a lot of questions about this whole scenario. A long time passes before she touches me—one hand on my shoulder—but then it’s both hands on my shoulders, then both hands on my neck, both hands in my hair, both hands on my ears. I laugh, I can’t help it. “Don’t laugh at me,” she whispers. I lick her mouth while it’s open—and groan. She tastes so sweet. Penelope has her hands on my shoulders again. She climbs into my lap and brackets my hips with her knees. She smooths down her skirt. And then she puts both arms around my neck. I lean back against the couch and hold her waist. I don’t know how much longer this can go on. I hope she doesn’t reg...