“I’m cooking—”
He lifted one eyebrow. “I’m capable of stirring the chicken and boiling pasta, Jameson.”
I couldn’t resist.
“I don’t know,” I said slowly. “I mean, I’ve tasted your chicken wings.” I wrinkled my nose in an exaggerated way.
“Okay, first,” Parker said stepping closer, his eyes narrowed. “I thought we were supposed to bepolitestrangers for as long as we’re stuck here. And we might not be able to handle thestrangerspart.” He looked around the room again, then back at me. “But do you need me to explainpoliteto you?”
I had to bite my tongue to keep from smiling. Parker wasn’t really pissed, and we both knew I was teasing. It was… nice. Good. Normal. As normal as me interacting with Parker could be.
Which was to say, really fucking weird.
“I beg your pardon,” I said solemnly.
Parker nodded, once, and gave me a cheeky grin. “Now go shower. ”
I went without another word, mostly because that smile was fucking dangerous, and I couldn’t trust myself to stay another minute.
Unfortunately, being in the bathroom didn’t help. Parker’s damp clothes were hanging over an unused towel bar, and the room was still humid from his shower, which made it really fucking hard to forget that just a couple minutes ago, he’d been naked and standing under the water exactly where I was standing.
And yeah, that thought madeother thingsreally fucking hard. But I’d be damned if I jacked off over Parker Hoffstraeder. Notnowwhile the man was standing in my kitchen, smelling like my soap, and making me feel…
I pushed at the knob viciously, shutting off the water.
I needed him gone, but that wasn’t gonna happen. So, I had to find a Plan B.Fast.
The problem was, part of me really wanted him here. He was fucking hilarious when he wasn’t being provoking… and okay, maybe even then. It feltrighthaving him in my space. He fit here. As much as I desperately didnotwant to have some giant conversation where we rehashed all the shit that happened eleven years ago, I wanted to revel in his presence and that easy banter I’d only ever had withhim.
And the other problem, I thought as I toweled myself off, was that my mind couldn’t draw a line between being friends with Parker and being attracted to Parker. Every joke, every fight, every second I fuckingbreathedaround him increased the chances that I was gonna want him.
But okay. That wasn’t a catastrophe, right? I could want and want all day long—fuck,I had—but that didn’t mean Parker was gonna jump into my arms. In fact, the odds of that were about the same as lightning striking twice…
And just like that, I was remembering Parker sayingthundahsnow.
I was a goner.
Whatever.
Parker was literally leaving town as soon as the storm was over. Our time together would be measured in hours. I could control myself for a few fucking hours. And my self-sabotaging brain needed to shut the fuck up. Hadn’t evenBriansaid something about not overthinking everything? There was some irony there.
I stepped into a pair of sweatpants and pulled a t-shirt over my head before heading back down the hall to the kitchen.
“Parker?”
I found him standing in the doorway to the dining room, holding his phone. He looked… puzzled, I decided.
“Problem?”
“I’m not sure.” He glanced back at me and rolled his eyes. “I, uh, called Marci and told her I was safe. Then I texted my mom. Beatrice isverydispleased that I won’t be arriving tomorrow.”
“Ah.”
“Apparently my father has been feeling lightheaded since he heard about the bad weather. Also, he has a dry, hacking cough which she agreedmightbe caused by the common cold, but was more likely due to the blizzard in Upstate New York that’s delaying my visit.”
“No doubt. It’s like the weather gods weren’t eventhinkingof your parents when they planned this storm. Your mom is going to write them averystrongly worded letter.”
Parker grinned. “She’s going to demand to speak to the blizzard’smanager.”
