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It was the chaturanga that did it.
Anthony and Benedict had valiantly held their tongues as their sisters had thrown out words like "downward dog" and "garland" and "cat cow" and "camel" but "chaturanga" was a step entirely too far.
“Excuse me, I’m sorry," Tweedledee had cut in for Tweedledum to finish, "the fuck is a chupacabra?"
It was, of course, a yoga exercise. The four-limbed-staff-pose-slash-low-plank. Doable for beginners but liable to cause wrist strain if you're not careful, which was Francesca's current predicament with yoga.
Anthony shook his head in disbelief. “Honestly, women will do anything but lift some dumbbells."
Almost immediately there was a chorus of protests.
Benedict, whose recent engagement to someone with preferred they/them pronouns had made him much more mindful of "heteronormative rhetoric", nevertheless agreed with his older brother. "You have to admit, it's not exactly the best exercise to just twist left or right.”
It was a mistake on three grounds: one, see above regarding heteronormative rhetoric. Two, Benedict's dearly beloved Seth, and Anthony's dearly beloved Kate, were each avid yogis who deeply resented the insult to their favourite exercise. Three, they were a group of alarmingly hyper-competitive people.
Benedict doubled down. “Oh, come on! You can't really compare whatever flexibility thing you guys do with strength training."
"That's funny," Seth said, crossing their arms, "I don't exactly hear you complaining when you enjoy the results of my flexibility."
Anthony made the mistake of scoffing at Benedict's gobsmacked look, which prompted Kate to raise an eyebrow. "Neither do you, Anthony." She gave him a challenging look. "In fact, I think you could do with learning some flexibility yourself."
Anthony frowned, likely trying to determine whether his performance in the bedroom had just been insulted or not. "What?"
"I bet," Daphne said, "that none of you" — she pointed to all of them, including Colin, who had said nothing — "could last a whole session in yoga."
Recall: Alarmingly. Hyper-competitive. People.
“Bet,” Anthony and Benedict said in unison.
Gregory, always eager to jump in after his brothers, threw his hat in. Colin merely shrugged. He wasn’t a yogi per se, but he’d gone a few times and hadn't minded. There were worse ways to spend an afternoon than yoga with his siblings and their partners (and whatever Michaela was to Francesca, which he wasn't going to touch with a ten-foot pole).
"Ooh," Hyacinth said, "you should do hot yoga." With her own twisted ankle, she would not be able to participate, but she was determined to contribute.
Daphne clapped. "Yes!"
"Hot, cold, frozen," Anthony shrugged and gave a cocky smirk. "Bring it on."
"Where should we go?" Kate asked. "LuxBird is probably booked."
The brainstorming session went on, which Colin was happy to tune out until Eloise yelled, "We should just ask Penelope!"
Colin stiffened. "Penelope?" Eloise nodded and Colin cleared his throat, suddenly parched. “Why—uh—Why Penelope?”
Eloise looks at him like he’s just lost his head. “She owns a yoga studio?” She said and then promptly looked past him to her ‘teammates’. "She's not officially open yet, but I think she's done with all the renos. I'll ask her if she can do a class for us."
"Oh could you?" Kate said, "I honestly can't wait to go back to her studio. It is so much better than LuxBird."
Everyone agreed that her classes were entirely superior to others — of course they were, Colin thought, why wouldn't they be — and then they were off texting Penelope and planning mayhem.
As though Colin wasn't standing there, about to burst out of his own skin.
"Everything alright, Col?" Benedict asked, eyeing him.
"Yeah," Anthony said, "you look" — he tilted his head — "flushed. You alright?"
Colin flushed even deeper, and looked away. "Mhm, yup." He reached for his tea. "Everything's fine."
And of course everything was not fine.
Not when Colin hadn't been able to stop thinking about Penelope for weeks now. Not since the Christmas party at the Bridgerton house. Not since Gregory and Hyacinth (damn them) had littered the house with mistletoe and Colin and Penelope had found themselves under one.
Not when she'd looked up at him with those big blue eyes and an understanding smile and said, "You don't have to kiss me." She gestured at the empty garage (why the bloody fuck was there mistletoe there?). "There's no one even here to see."
And Colin could have taken the out, he could have, yes, but he looked in those eyes and knew they were both thinking of the exact same thing: I wouldn't dream of dating Penelope Featherington. Not in your wildest fantasies.
Colin hadn't meant it like that. Honest. He'd only meant — well, she was his friend. His good friend who he loved dearly but couldn't possibly imagine dating. Dating her would have been tantamount to dating Eloise or something. They just weren't like that and he was tired of everyone (his mother, Anthony, Benedict, Daphne, Eloise, Francesca, Gregory, Hyacinth, Kate, Simon, Seth, Edwina, Michaela, John (may he rest in peace), Fife, Cressida fucking Cowper, Agatha Danbury, and even Miss Charlotte — just to name a few) insinuating otherwise.
What Colin hadn't realized at the time, tipsy and irritated as he was, was that there were plenty of people with their phones out, documenting the party on their social media. One or two or ten of which had managed to accidentally capture Colin's idiotic words and the group's following jeers. One or two or ten of which, Cressida Cowper had kindly forwarded to Penelope.
The damage to their friendship had been almost irreparable. Colin had always adored Penelope, but hadn’t quite realized how essential she had become to him, until he'd almost lost her. How much he relied on her wit and her words and her smiles until they'd all been barred from him. He'd almost ruined a beautiful friendship and worst of all: He’d made the sweetheart cry.
That Colin had managed to grovel his way back into her good graces had been a miracle and one that he wasn't ever going to take lightly. He wasn’t ever going to make her feel bad or insecure about herself or him ever again. A simple, single kiss wasn’t going to kill him. In fact — looking at her, cheeks flushed, red curls cascading down her bare shoulders — he — well, he—well. One kiss wasn’t going to kill him.
He dropped whatever it was he was holding in his hands. “Come here.”
She shook her head. “No, really, Colin. I don’t even know why anyone would put mistletoe in the garage, but you don’t have to kiss me just because —“
“Penelope.” She looked up at him, blue eyes going wide at his tone. At his use of her full name. At his pulling himself to his full height in front of her. “Come. Here.”
She stepped up to him and that gave him permission to take a step forward as well until they were standing almost chest-to-chest. For no reason at all, the tension in the room shifted, the air suddenly thick and heavy.
“Colin, I—“
He brought his hand up to her chin. “Unless you don’t want me to, I am going to kiss you now.”
Staring at her lips, though, he actually wasn’t sure he would be able to pull away. But he needn’t have worried.
She let him tilt her face up and swallowed as she stared back at him. Had her eyes always been this blue? “I want you to.”
“Good,” he said and bent down.
It was supposed to be a peck. A simple there-and-gone-again touch of their lips. Only —.
Only the moment his lips met hers, the world tilted on its axis.
Oh God.
They pulled apart, their lips inches away, their eyes meeting and he could feel her breath against him. He could have pulled away.
He should have pulled away.
Instead, he captured her lips again. He pressed closer, leaned closer, drank her and the taste of her lips in. He was kissing Penelope Featherington and she was kissing him back and it felt like the most right thing in the world. Every misaligned bit of him suddenly shifted and fell into place; his body sighed with relief.
This was the person. These were the lips.
He parted his lips and coaxed hers open and it was like…coming home.
And then she pressed her tongue to his and it was like being set on fire at the same time.
He didn’t know how long they stood there, kissing, but it was somewhere between “not long enough” and “long enough for Eloise to scream at them to hurry up” and shatter the spell.
Penelope had pulled away with a squeak, pushed him squarely away and then ran out of the garage with a nonsensical “thank you!” thrown over her shoulder.
Colin had stood, staring after her and having completely forgotten what they’d been sent into the garage for.
Even with the bone-melting, Earth-shattering kiss it took Colin an embarrassing amount of time to put it together. To shift his mind away from but it’s Penelope to: it’s Penelope.
It had, in fact, taken a very illuminating reddit post for him to realize that perhaps most people didn’t spend so long thinking about their platonic friend’s smiles. That they didn’t feel annoyed when other men chatted with them. They didn’t forget how to speak when they saw them again after months of being away. That when they were away, they didn’t spend the whole day texting their best friend or cataloging everything to share with them later. They didn’t spend their lonely nights re-reading their text messages and feeling proud of every reaction they’d coax out their friend and wishing they’d been in the same room so he could watch and hear every reaction in real time. They didn’t sometimes fantasize about said best friend when they were in the shower, cock in hand. They didn’t feel empty and useless when said best friend blocked their number and wouldn’t answer their calls. They didn’t feel their heart rip out of their chest at the thought of making them cry.
“My dude you want to dick her down so bad it makes you look stupid”, user840281 had said and they’d been so fucking right, but also, “sounds like you might be in love and have been for a long a time” callmenever had commented and they’d been so fucking right also.
Colin was in love with Penelope Featherington and might have been for a long time and he wanted her so badly it made him look stupid.
So stupid, in fact, he’d just spent a whole month making her a fucking Tinder profile.
Fuck.
“Colin?” Eloise popped her head in the kitchen, jolting Colin out of his thoughts.
“Mhm?”
“Saturday morning, 9 am, Pen’s?”
His throat dried again and he took another sip of his tea. “Yes, sure. Sounds great. Perfect.”
She shot him an odd, almost suspicious look as she turned away.
Sounds abso-fucking-lutely perfect.
Penelope had opened Pen’s four years ago, using the money from selling her first book to take over the lease from her downstairs neighbor. It had been the perfect fit for her, not only because it was a convenient (and conveniently located) day job but also because she loved yoga and Pilates and it relaxed her to teach. Though he had never taken a class with her himself, from what Colin could tell, she was a phenomenal teacher. Good enough that there was a waitlist already for when the studio opened back up again and she’d been generous enough to let them in early to settle a stupid bet.
Not everyone was as appreciative of this as others.
"I would like to point out," Simon said, standing outside the studio and staring up at the sign proudly proclaiming the space as Pen’s. “That I wasn’t a part of this bet. I wasn’t even in the room when the bet was placed.”
“Oh,” Daphne said and grabbed her husband's arm. “Don’t be a grouch, Simon.”
“I’m not being a grouch,” he said, as he let her maneuver him around, “merely pointing out that as I wasn’t part of the bet, that I have no reason to be here.”
“What about spending time with your wife doing something she enjoys?”
“I—“
“After she even went hiking with you.”
Whatever Simon was going to say, he bit back at that. “You’re right, of course.”
Anthony snorted. “You really have no dignity, Hastings.”
Simon didn’t miss a beat. “Says the man in tie-dye leggings.”
Anthony flushed, but Benedict, standing in his own pair of hot pink, floral leggings, preened. “Do you like them? Hyacinth got them for us.”
Simon shot Anthony an assessing look, something akin to begrudging respect. No one could fault a man for capitulating to his 14 year old sister’s whims.
It had been funny watching his brothers’ reactions as their littlest sister pulled out the ridiculous clothes from her shopping bag. Benedict had gone from shocked to delighted very quickly but Anthony had looked near an aneurysm. “Don’t you think these look so fun?” Hyacinth had asked so earnestly, turning on those big puppy eyes that seemed to work on Anthony the way almost nothing else ever did. And thus, even though they were all sure that she was having them on, Anthony had melted and tugged the damn thing on (which, in turn, melted Kate).
Gregory, too close in age with Hyacinth to be in any way indulgent with her, had flat out refused his pair whereas Colin had been dismayed to find there had been no extravagant yoga leggings for him. “Oh,” she said when he raised the point. She frowned at him. “Oh no, no, you have to look hot.” She’d been pulled away before he could ask about that. Having no idea what that meant, his usual gym ensemble, it was.
Kate smiled now at her husband and gave him a sound kiss even as he grumbled. “I think he looks great.”
Colin grinned and leaned against the door. “Tell us, Anthony, do you or do you not feel bonita?”
Anthony glowered and looked ready to snap at him when suddenly the door swung open. Colin felt himself tip over and yelped, thrusting his hand out to steady himself. A hand caught the back of his shirt and steadied him.
“Careful,” Anthony said in his most dad-voice.
Colin might have been thankful for his brother’s aid if he hadn’t found his face mere inches away from the most perfect pair of breasts in the world. If not for Anthony’s meddling, Colin could have gone face-first into those magnificent breasts.
“Oh my God!” Penelope said, grabbing on to Colin’s arms to prop him up. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
Colin said nothing, eyes still helplessly glued to Penelope's, erm, assets. “Uh.”
A tug on his shirt forcibly dragged him back up and away. A stern hand slapped on his shoulder.
“He’s fine,” Anthony said, giving him a hard shake. "Just lost his balance."
"If you're sure." Penelope nodded at Anthony and turned back to Colin. “Sorry, have you been waiting long?”
"N—" Colin meant to answer, he did, but then he took all of her in and he suddenly found his breath caught by the sight of Penelope, standing there in nothing but skin-tight yoga shorts and a sports bra. “Um.”
She frowned. “Colin? Are you sure you’re alright?”
Yoga Shorts and a sports bra. Her hair — Curls. Curls. Wild. Wild. Curls.
“Uh.”
“Yes,” Eloise said, peeking over his shoulder. “He’s fine. And no, we haven’t.”
“Well, great,” Penelope said. Her eyes raked over Colin, but the sight of him didn’t seem to send her into a crisis. It was like she was looking at any other regular person. “Come on in, then.”
She turned around and — yoga shorts. And a sports bra.
“Colin,” Anthony hissed, “go.”
“Uh.” Were his legs supposed to do something?
Yoga shorts. And a sports bra. Yoga shorts. And a sports bra.
Yoga shorts. Sports Bra.
Shorts. Bra.
“Colin!”
Ass. Breasts.
Ass. Breasts.
Penelope. Penelope. Pen—
Someone huffed next to him. “I can’t believe I married into this family,” Simon said and then Colin was being bodily dragged into the studio by the collective force of his brother and brother-in-law.
“Alright,” Penelope said, standing at the front of the room, looking at them through the mirror directly in front of her. Colin stared at her, barely noticing when Anthony and Simon deposited him on a mat near the back. Yoga shorts. Sports bra.
“Just grab a mat wherever you like, please. I’ve put yoga blocks and towels for everyone, but if you need anything else, including water refill, they’re in the back of the room. If you need to change or use the loo, those are through the left. ”
“Oh, Colin should go in front, I think,” Francesca said.
Colin didn’t know why he should go in front, but when Michaela gently reached out to nudge him forward, he very happily let himself be pushed along until he was standing front and center, just behind Penelope and between Daphne and Eloise.
Penelope smiled at him brightly through the mirror as she threw her hair in a haphazard bun. "Alright, everyone, we're going to be doing a vinyasa flow yoga today, focusing on opening your hips and your chest and working on your balance. Some of the moves might be a bit advanced, so I will give you modifications and you can feel free to pause whenever you like or stop whenever you like. The room is going to go up to thirty-seven degrees, so if you're not used to it, you might need some extra breaks. This is your workout and your time so make sure you take what you need from it. Alright?"
"Go Pen!" Benedict cheered from the back and the rest of them whooped in cheers.
Penelope beamed and giggled. "Alright, alright. I'm going to dim the lights and we're just going to start in whatever position is most comfortable for you. If that's lying down or sitting up, that's fine. We're going to start with some deep breaths and get ourselves centered."
They let Penelope guide them through some breaths and for a minute and Colin thought he might be safe after all. He could just close his eyes and breathe this whole time.
"Alright, now if you're not already on your back, take the time to lie slowly on your backs and lift your feet in the air and take hold of our heels in your Happy Baby pose and just gently rock back and forth or to the side, if that's easier."
Colin swallowed as he tried to follow her instructions and not think about how ridiculous he must look but more importantly, how wonderful Penelope probably looked in that position.
He snuck a peak.
He immediately dropped his head with a thunk. This could not be a real position.
"Ow," Benedict said. "My body doesn't do this."
"Ben," Seth hissed. "We haven't even started yet."
"Let's just try to keep the conversation to a minimum," Penelope said calmly but pointedly, "and use this time to quiet our minds."
There was a beat of silence.
"See," Benedict said, "you got us in trouble."
"You got us in trouble."
"Children," Kate said and they both quieted.
Penelope led them through a few more — thankfully tame — stretches on their backs before she asked them to move to a "table position" on their hands and knees and facing the front.
The heat was already getting to Colin and he stared at Penelope as her sweat-glistened body settled on her hands and knees in front of him.
"Now we're just going to do a few stretching cat-cows. So—" Whatever she said, Colin readily tuned out as he watched her round out her spine then arch it, then round then arch, then — he dropped his gaze.
"Just two more now, go at your own pace. And then when you're ready, inhale and lift your left arm up and exhale and pass it through under your right arm, threading the needle."
Not quite able to follow the imagery, Colin looked up — if only to follow along — and, yes, immediately regretted it. Why was she sticking her ass in the air like that?
“Everything alright, Colin?” Eloise asked.
Fucking no. “What is happening?” He whispered, desperately.
“And now,” Penelope said, “other side.”
“Why?” Colin asked, louder than he meant to.
“It’s a great stretch for your shoulders, chest, neck and back, Colin. Go on.” Penelope responded, which, for whatever reason, everyone else found hilarious.
"Close your mouth, Colin," Daphne said, sounding amused.
“Catch flies with that thing,” Gregory added, even though he was behind Colin and couldn’t possibly see what was happening to Colin’s face.
Colin snapped his mouth closed.
Penelope turned back to face them and beamed at Colin. "Alright, now that we're done with our stretches, let's get started."
From the back, Anthony's voice rang out: "We hadn't started yet?!"
The heat was oppressive. Colin was sweating everywhere and his lungs were stifled. He tried to draw in more breath, recenter himself, but the air was too hot. Or maybe it was that Penelope was demonstrating a warrior pose. An objectively innocent pose. But Penelope was (as already noted) in a sports bra and yoga shorts, with beads of sweat making their way down her neck and back and over the curve of her breasts — Jesus fucking Christ on a graham cracker.
She placed her hand down and moved her front leg back, pushing her hips back until she made a downward V with her body. "Alright, now you can move back into your downward dogs."
"For fuck's sakes." Was the downward facing dog really necessary to do over and over again?
Penelope turned her head and smiled brightly at him. "What was that, Colin?"
Next to him, he could have sworn Daphne snorted.
"Oh, um," he shook his head. "Nothing. Just hot."
"Right," Penelope said, nodding seriously. "Please don't forget to drink lots and lots of water."
Excellent idea. He dropped his pose and reached for his water bottle, gratefully taking long pulls of his drink with his eyes still glued to Penny's — to Penny.
“Alright," Penelope said, "now lift your right leg up, up, up."
"Yeah, my leg doesn't go up any higher than this, Pen!" Benedict called out.
She giggled. "Now bend your knee and push out on the side, opening up those hips and release your breath. When you feel ready, cross your leg over and bring it all the way down, take a deep breath and push your shoulders away from the floor into your upward facing bow.”
The water bottle slipped from Colin's hand, but a crash from the back followed by Anthony cursing loudly masked the sound.
A beat. “And," Penelope continued, sounding slightly chagrined. "If you are not comfortable with this move, feel free to just go into your child’s pose and meet us in the downward facing dog again when it’s time.”
Oh, yes. Sure. He'll just slip in a child's pose while she's doing that with her body.
“Colin, would you mind not doing that face right in front of my yoga mat?” Eloise said, her voice strained from the flawless upward bow execution.
“I don’t think he can hear you,” Daphne said, "with all the water dribbling down his chin."
"Is that what it is? I thought that was drool."
Colin wiped at his mouth, finding, horrifyingly, that it was wet. “What is happening?” Colin asked again. He’d seen the upward bow before in yoga and never been tempted to climb anyone and yet, there was Penelope, with her back arched and her breasts in the air and the move should be illegal.
“Okay,” Penelope said, dropping down. “Find your center again and move into the chaturanga flow before coming back to the downward facing dog and repeating the transition to the upward bow again, this time on the other side.”
“Not the chaturanga again!”
“What’s wrong, Bridgerton?” Simon goaded. “Can’t stand the heat?”
“Oh come off it!” Anthony snapped. “It’s too hot.”
“You could always give up, my love,” Kate said, “no shame in admitting defeat.”
“I’m not admitting defeat. It hurts my wrist, that’s all."
“If your wrist is hurting,” Penelope chimed in primly, “feel free to modify by moving to your elbows or your fists, whichever feels easier.”
She, of course, with no regard for poor Colin’s nerves, punctuated this by moving onto her elbows to demonstrate. Christ.
Gregory huffed from the back. "I think the temperature is too hot for our bodies. Women have different temperatures, this isn't right."
“Then why is Simon doing so well, then?” Michaela teased.
“Because Simon is an alien,” Benedict said, at the same time that Anthony said, “Because Simon isn’t a real human.”
Simon scoffed. “Envy is not a good look, Bridgerton.”
“Why do you say our name like that as though you’re not married to one of us?” Gregory asked. “Do you call Daphne that too?”
“Daphne is a Basset now, I’ve rescued her from your lot.”
Anthony scoffed, though with his breathing it came out more as a puff of strangled air. “Are you going to let him speak to us like that, Daph?”
“Ordinarily, no,” Daphne said, easily holding the latest position that Penelope had guided them into. “But given your current performance, I’m not too cut up about not being associated with you.”
“If everyone is quite done,” Penelope said pointedly. "The studio is meant to be a quiet time.”
“Sorry, Pen,” they all chorused. Except for Colin who was only sorry that Penelope had taken that particular strict tone of hers. How was he supposed to function if she decided to use that tone?
Penelope turned to him and the force of having her full attention nearly made him fall over. “Colin, if you need to have a lie down, that is perfectly alright. These moves can be a bit advanced and the studio is fairly hot.”
If he wasn't already flushed from the heat, Colin was sure he'd be as red as a tomato now. “I’m fine.”
“I think Colin’s become a big yoga fan,” Michaela said, her voice barely containing her laughter.
“I bet he has,” Benedict muttered.
One day, Colin was going to be able to think clearly again and have full functional control of all of his limbs. And on that day Colin was going to get his revenge on his siblings and each of their significant others. He knew now exactly what they were up to and none of them were going to be spared. Each and every single one of them was going to know his wrath. One day —
"Alright," Penelope instructed, "now lift your back leg for the pigeon pose."
— But that was not this day.
For fuck's sakes. He must have made a particularly inhumane sound because Eloise turned to look at him. "Everything alright there, Colin?" Her voice was casual, but Colin knew.
"I am going to put nair in your shampoo," Colin said, not even bothering to look at her.
"Excuse me," Anthony called out, "why are there pigeons in yoga? I thought this was yoga not the zoo."
"That, my love," Kate said, "sounds a lot like you're nearly giving up."
"Me?" He huffed. "Give up?" He groaned. "Of—of bloody course not."
"Haven't had enough yet?"
"Not. At all." He panted. "Is this all you got?"
Kate hummed. "Penny, my dear, how about you show my dear husband some really challenging moves? It seems we might be boring him."
"Make them do the crow!" Eloise said.
"Oh, wonderful," Anthony said, "more feathered creatures."
"Oh, I love the crow," Daphne added.
Penny frowned. "Oh, uh, I don't know…" Her gaze flickered to the back where Francesca was. "It is rather hard on the wrists for Fran and it's a more advanced move."
"Crow sounds cool!" Gregory said, "I want to do the crow."
"Oh come on!" Eloise practically yelled. "It's not like they'd be able to actually do it. Just show them!"
"Yes," Daphne said, "humble my brothers. Please."
Eventually, even Francesca, with her bad wrists, was goading Penelope into it, until she finally relented. "Very well," she said, "step forward to the front of your mat, into a deep, low squat."
She followed the moves by demonstrating her deep squat.
— and Colin stopped. Just stopped.
"Now bend over and try to reach down with your hands and place your hands on the mat. If this is where you're comfortable, stop there. Find what feels good." Once again, she demonstrated the shift to putting her hand on the mat.
"Okay." Colin said out loud, watching her.
"Now, keep your neck long, don't look down and slowly push your knees forward. Make sure that —"
Lost in her movements, Colin dropped whatever pose his body was attempting and fell back on his ass. "Okay," he said again.
She lifted her legs off the floor and balanced on her arms. Alright. Enough.
Enough.
"Alright," he said loud enough that everyone could hear. "Everyone get out."
Everyone froze. Not a single person moved or breathed — even Anthony's shouts of agony stopped.
And then everything moved at once.
"Thank you, God!" someone yelled (obviously Anthony).
Penelope dropped her feet back on the floor… everyone else started scrambling to gather their things. "Move! Move! Move!"
"What is it, Colin?" Penelope asked, ignoring the chaos around them. "What's wrong?"
"I—"
"Oh, just leave your stuff, Gregory!" Eloise yelled, taking her brother's arm. "Leave it and run!"
It drew Penelope's attention, and she looked somewhere between angry and affronted. "What, hang on a minute! You all can't just leave!" She waved them down. "You have to cool down. Don't just leave your coats! it's February, you'll freeze and die!"
"Oh, well!" Eloise called over her shoulder as she hauled Gregory to the door. "Needs must!"
Penelope turned to him. "Colin! Stop them! It's freezing outside."
"They'll be fine," Colin said, watching impassively as they all filtered out of the studio. By the door, Anthony turned and wagged a finger in his wife's face. "This doesn't change the bet!"
“Oh, Anthony, shush!” Kate rolled her eyes and practically shoved him out the door.
Colin watched them go, and good riddance.
"Colin!" Penelope snapped again. She marched over to him, fists at her waist. "What is your problem?"
Colin looked at her. God she was beautiful. "You."
That stopped her. "What."
He reached for her wrist, then stopped. He looked up at her, a question. Still confused and indignant, she hesitated a moment before nodding. He took her hand and tugged her down, and she went easily enough.
"Colin, what—"
"I can't stop thinking about you."
Later, a banging at the window had Penelope springing away with a squeak. "Colin!"
Considering that Penelope had just been straddling him and kissing the breath out of him, this was not a happy development for him. "Wait, wait, come back."
"Colin, they're looking at us."
Colin didn't bother asking 'who'. He knew. With a sigh, he followed Penelope's gaze and was entirely unsurprised to see the whole Bridgerton menagerie standing behind the glass, waving at them and grinning.
Anthony, smiling from ear to ear, threw him a thumbs up. "Well done, little brother!"
"Get it, Penelope!" Seth cheered.
"Oh, God," Penelope said, flushing. She moved to get off of him entirely and that simply would not do. He stopped her with his hands on her waist.
"Where are you going?"
"Colin, they're watching."
He tugged her back down. "Ignore them."
It seemed that Penelope was not as immune to him as he'd previously thought, though, because she yielded easily, staring at him and his lips — transfixed. "Everything is glass," Penelope said, her voice dropping to that delicious timber he wasn't sure he'd ever get enough of. "Anyone can see."
"Let them see," he said and covered her lips with his. She moaned against him and parted her lips and when he moved to roll them over, she went easily, wrapping her legs around his waist.
Cheers erupted from behind the glass window. Colin didn't break the kiss, but he did take his hand off of Penelope long enough to flip them off.
Later still, they both remember that Penelope lived upstairs, and, with the howling of the Bridgerton and Co. armada in the background, they pulled apart from each other just long enough to make a beeline for the stairs.