Penelope Featherington lost her virginity at the ripe age of twenty one, and since then, she had developed quite the healthy relationship with sex. She went on blind dates, she was on all the apps, she went out to bars on weekends, and she truly put herself out there. However, she created a rule for herself, one that Eloise, her best friend and serial dater actually gave her the idea for. The third date theory.
If by the third date Penelope decided that she really liked a guy, she would take that next step with them and they would have sex. By the end of it, she would know for sure if they were compatible and if there would be a fourth date. Unfortunately, none of these men had been compatible with her, so while she was having plenty of sex---decent but not great sex---it never went beyond that. She never developed a deeper connection with any of them, and she never went on a fourth date. That is, until Colin.
Penelope and Colin had been close friends for years before they started dating. It actually took him twelve whole years to finally open his eyes and see what was in front of his face. And once he did, he felt so stupid for never taking that step before. Penelope was perfect. Even better, she was perfect for him. The two of them talked, laughed, shared their hopes and fears with one another, and Colin was sure that she knew him better than anyone else. He had never been happier than he had been since he started going out with Penelope. But then his sister had to open her mouth about Penelope's third date theory and now he couldn't stop thinking about it.
On Colin and Penelope's third date, they went to a fancy Italian restaurant for a candlelit dinner, and afterwards, he took her to the park for a showing of Romeo and Juliet. It was pretty romantic if he said so himself. He walked her back to her flat at the end of the night, and they shared a glorious, soul stirring kiss. Not that he expected Penelope to sleep with him, nor would he pressure her to, but he had thought maybe that kiss would lead to more. But then Penelope pulled away and whispered goodnight in that sweet, soft voice of hers and closed the door in his face, leaving Colin gaping like a fish on her front steps.
At the time, he brushed it off, thinking maybe she was just tired or she had to get up early for work the next day. Then it happened again on the fourth date. And the fifth. During each date, Colin pulled out all the stops, making sure that Penelope could see with his words and his actions just how much he adored her. By the sixth case of blue balls---I mean, the sixth date, he was beginning to wonder if there was something he was doing wrong. He wondered if maybe she wasn't interested or if she was just scared. So he brought it up. And looking back, he kind of wished he hadn't.
"Why don't you want to have sex with me?" He blurted one day at, of all places, a BBQ hosted by his eldest brother Anthony. Luckily, most of his family were distracted with their own conversations to pay him any notice. Penelope, however, heard him loud and clear and began choking on her lemonade the instant the words left his lips.
"Penelope, dear, are you alright?" Violet asked, ever the Momma Bear.
Penelope's face was beet red as she struggled to regain control of her breathing. "Yep, all good," she managed with a nod. "Went down the wrong pipe is all," she added, waving away everyone's concerns. Eventually, everyone resumed their activities, ignoring Colin and Penelope. She finally turned to him, a fierce look in her eyes, and he deeply regretted saying anything. "Colin, what the hell?" She hissed.
He managed to look a little embarrassed, but he remained firm. He had to know. "Why don't you want to sleep with me?" He asked again, and Penelope's sparkling blue eyes widened at him in a mix of shock and anger.
"Are we seriously doing this here?" She whispered. He nodded. Penelope looked around, scanning the packed backyard full of his siblings, their spouses, and his mother. She grabbed his wrist, dragging him to the patio door and into a quiet, secluded room of the house. When they were alone, she dropped his hand, and he realized that even though she appeared angry with him, he missed her touch. "Why would you ask me that?" She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest, which unfortunately gave him a perfect view of her cleavage and made it quite difficult to concentrate.
