Finding you in New York.

3.

"Do you like it?"

Penelope bit into the Bao Bun and nodded, "It's delicious."

Benedict looked rather pleased with himself and passed her a dip, "Try that."  Penelope dipped it in and moaned as the spicy sweetness coated her mouth. She brought a finger to the corner of her lips and caught the slight drip of sauce that was dangerously nearly falling down her chin. She didn't notice Benedict's slight shift on his seat.

Her moan and the licking of her fingers nearly sent him over the bloody edge of insanity. She laughed slightly as she saw him blush a little, "What's wrong?" she asked, Benedict shook his head and cleared his throat, loudly, "N-nothing," he croaked.

For their first course Benedict brought her to this place that made thee most amazing Bao Bun's. The family that owned the place were happy to see him and passed him over his 'usual'. He wasn't ashamed but Benedict Bridgerton always ate out (he didn't know how to cook) – you could blame his privileged upbringing, but it was definitely his laziness.

He felt a vibration in his pocket and looked down towards his phone.

Anthony Calling...

He quickly hit ignore and turned his attention back to his date.

"Which one?" Penelope asked teasingly.

Benedict laughed, "Anthony."

"You can answer it you know, I don't mind," Penelope said as she wiped her sticky hands on a napkin. Benedict shook his head, "No, you're more important."

Penelope's eyes twinkled and he placed his own hand in hers, "Now come on, on to the next one." Benedict shouted towards Ann, the owner, and said his goodbyes and waved. Penelope always liked how polite Benedict was, he was inherently kind, he was and had always been a good man. Regardless of his sexual exploits. I mean, she had heard about him from growing up in London and from Eloise, so Penelope knew just how popular Benedict Bridgerton was with the ladies (and men), but then all the Bridgerton brothers were. It was never hard for them as they were literal walking Greek Gods. It was unfair for the rest of the male population to compete with such perfection – honestly.

She watched as his excitable actions pulled her quickly towards the next spot. He had been effortlessly making her smile and have fun. She hadn't been on a date where she felt so calm, relaxed and at ease. Everything about him was warm and safe. She liked that and she was beginning to realise that maybe she did in fact like him.

But was this too complicated?

She had known Benedict since she was five years old. He saw her through her chubby phase, her spotty phase and her dubious 'punk' phase – Avril Lavigne had a lot to answer for. Not to mention he was her best friend's brother. She was a walking teen romance novel tonight.

Surely there were many rules against this in the best friend handbook.

Instinctually she stopped on the spot and let go of his hand.

Penelope's face went scarily pale.

Benedict panicked and looked back, "What's wrong?"

"I-I... what are we doing Benedict? I mean what is this?"

"I thought that was rather obvious Penelope, it's a date," Benedict furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. She looked down at her hands and then back towards him, "But why?"

Why? Was she serious?

He walked towards her and put both hands on each of her arms, "I like you Penelope, seeing you after so long, I don't know, it was like a switch went off in my head. I want to hold your hand like this," he grabbed her hand delicately – trying not to scare her further, "...and take you to our next place, and then later tonight when I walk you home, I'd really like to kiss you."