“Does she have a priest on speed dial?” I wondered.
“Knowing her? Probably the pope, a couple rabbis, an imam or two.”
“A wizard, maybe? She’s calling Dumbledore right now.” I smiled smugly.
Parker’s smile tilted and got warmer, even as he shook his head. “You mention your childhoodHarry Potterobsession to a guyonceand heneeeeverlets you forget it.”
“Once?” I scoffed.
“Fine, fine. Two or three times,” he allowed.
“Two or threehundred.Also, can we accurately call it achildhoodobsession when it lasts into adulthood?” I mused.
“It didnot!”
“Are you forgetting that we droveallllthe way to Rochester when the last book came out, because they had an all-night bookstore and youneededto get the book at midnight?”
Parker leaned back against one side of the door frame. “I might possibly remember something about that,” he allowed. “Vaguely.”
“Uh huh. Remember we got a hotel room?‘Jamie, we can be alone all night for the first time since our parents found out we were more than friends.’ That ringing any bells?” I leaned against the other side of the frame.
Parker shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Maybe,” he said, impatiently this time.
“‘Jamie, we can finally take things to the next level!’”
“Okay, first of all, why does your Parker-voice make me sound like a long-lost Muppet?” Parker glanced at the ceiling. “And second… in my defense, Ihadimagined—”
“It’ll be an unforgettable night,Jamie!” I quoted in the same high-pitched voice.
“Are you saying it wasn’t?” Parker shot back.
I laughed out loud. “Not at all. I will admit, sitting together on the bed, reading a children’s book over your shoulder until dawn was not the way I’d pictured that night working out. Not after we’d taken the time to buy condoms and lube.”
“You didn’t complain at the time,” Parker said, staring at me levelly. “Not once.”
“Of course not.” I shrugged and rubbed my hand over my t-shirt. I swear I could feel the heat of his body cuddled against me, his back against my chest in that little bed, like it was happening right this minute. “You were so freakin’ happy.”
“I was,” he agreed softly, a little line between his eyebrows. “I don’t think I’d ever been that purely happy.”
And that had been enough to makemehappy, even after Parker’s mom had found out where we were. Even though we’d never gotten to use those condoms at all that summer. Or ever.
I cleared my throat and took a giant step away from him, away from all the emotional shit he stirred up inside me.
My plan B was dead in the water. And I didn’t have a plan C.
“So. Uh. Is your dad really sick?”
“No.” Parker snorted. “He’s gonna outlive all of us. My mom just keeps hoping I’ll fall for her guilt trip.”
“Wonder why.”
He looked up at me. “I used to fall for them. But then, I used to believe a lot of things.” He shrugged. “That was a long time ago.”
I cleared my throat. “So. Dinner?”
“Yeah,” Parker agreed. “But first.” He threw out a hand toward the dining room. “Mind explaining why there’s an ice scraper hanging out of your wall?”
“Oh. That.” I peered over his shoulder, opened my mouth to explain, and shook my head. “I need food first.”
