If anyone deserves this, it’s Brooke.
The doorbell rings, and Maddie and I look at each other in surprise.
“Were you expecting someone?” I ask.
“No.” She moves to the window and pulls back the curtain, glancing down at the front stoop. “It’s Parker.”
Panic floods my body.
What is he doing here?
Maddie whirls, her excitement nearly palpable. “Did you invite him over?”
“Of course not.” And, okay, maybe my response is a little defensive, but she knows our history now, so she can’t exactly be surprised.
She sighs. “Damn. I thought maybe you two finally kissed and made up.”
“Not hardly.” My cheeks heat and guilt niggles at my conscience, but there’s no way I’m going to admit we hooked up in the church parking lot.
It was a mistake.
A stupid one.
“Want me to go see what he wants?” Her brows shoot up. “Ooh, maybe he brought more brownies. I’ve got my period and I would kill for something chocolate right now.”
“It’s fine,” I say, climbing out of bed. “I’ll go see what he wants.” We both know he’s most likely here to annoy me, and making her deal with my problems isn’t exactly stellar BFF behavior. “There are Reese’s in the freezer.”
“Best. Roommate. Ever.”
She darts down the hall in search of peanut butter cups and I follow, though I take my sweet ass time descending the stairs.
Yes, it’s another stall tactic, but at least it gives me time to collect my thoughts before facing Parker.
As if that’s even possible.
Truth. The man is infuriating, but he’s hotter than the hinges of hell.
I steel my resolve as I grab the doorknob and yank the front door open. And there’s Parker, dressed in a pair of low-slung joggers—grey, of course—and a fitted athletic tee that hugs every dip and plane of his muscular chest. His hazel eyes are bright in the fading afternoon light and his shaggy hair looks like he’s just run a hand through it, but his smile…
Dios mío.
Parker’s smile is warm and inviting and the things he can do with that tongue.
My core heats at the memory and I pray my thoughts aren’t written all over my face.
“Hey.” He holds up a pizza box. “I figured since you’re too busy to meet up and discuss our AMP paper, maybe we could do it over dinner.” He flashes me a wolfish grin. “Even you have to take a break to eat, right?”
Yes, but preferably when my mouth isn’t drier than the Sahara.
As if sensing my reluctance, he opens the lid and the scent of baked dough and melting cheese calls to me like a siren song.
My stomach growls in response.
A slice or two won’t hurt.
Especially since I had a salad for lunch.
“Fine. Let’s get this over with.” I step aside so he can enter, and when I turn around, Maddie’s camped out on the couch, a bag of Reese’s in one hand and the remote in the other. Which means we’ll have to go upstairs to avoid disturbing her, and vice versa, because our kitchen and living room are one big open concept space. “Parker brought pizza. You want any?”
