She does a piss-poor job of holding back a smile. “Is he an idiot, or…?”
“Of course he’s not an idiot. He just spent the last half of his childhood being shown that love is a fragile and foolish endeavor that’s rife with pain.”
“But you think you could show him how it works.” Her words are spot on, but she’s sipping her cocktail like she thinks that’s somehow wrong.
“Duh. Have you met my parents? I know exactly what he needs. And it’s me,” I respond, tired of repeating the obvious.
Parker shakes her head. “You say that you know exactly what he needs, but isn’t that the same as what he’s doing?”
“No.”
“How is it different?” Park asks, her sharp eyes forcing my focus.
I look away. “Because I’m right and he’s wrong, that’s why.”
“So you don’t believe him when he says that he’s not equipped to handle it if you were to fall out of love with him?”
“Is this mic on?I’m not going to fall out of love with him.”
“How would he know that? Where in his life has that ever worked out for him?”
“With me, dammit! With. Me.” I say, gesturing at myself in case anyone is confused about who I’m talking about. I go to take a drink and find that my glass is empty. Omar opens the reserve he brought and pours me a few more fingers. “Thank you.”
He smiles at me and points at Park, indicating that I should listen to her.
I don’t want to.
Parker stands, which doesn’t add much to her height, one hand on her hip. “He doesn’t know that. He doesn’t have enough data or enough faith in his ability to get over one more goddamn heartbreak. I know he’s built like a brick house, but that man is fragile. He had to put himself back together again and again andagainwith his own two hands. And he loves you, right?”
“Yes.” Obviously. My brother pats my leg.
“Then there’s no way you don’t scare the hell out of him.”
“I know. Okay? He loves me and he still said no. And I have accepted that. I just think he’sfucking wrong. Which is why I just wanna fucking sit here and be sad.If that’s okay with you.”
Parker stands in front of me, the tips of her shoes touching mine. “Honey, you’ve been sitting, waiting for that man for years.”
I would protest, but…she’s more right than she could possibly realize.
Anders and Omar look at me with pity and I can’t stand it. “Look, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Can we please just change the subject?”
Anders perks up, which is always a bad sign. “Brother, you should tell them where you’re going next week.”
I know what he’s doing, so I go along. “I’ve got to be in Houston for a conference on serial killers on Tuesday.”
That cracks everyone up, just as I thought it would. This team could give that conference a run for its money.
“Why would you go to Houston for that?” Omar asks, putting on an innocent face. “If you have questions, just ask your brother.”
Anders tries to protest, but then Omar nails him with a scorching hot eyebrow raise and Anders dissolves into a shy, lip-bitten smile. I suspect Omar enjoys Anders’ predilections more than is totally healthy, and it fuels something I’ve never seen in my brother. Contentment.
Parker taps her glass with her perfectly manicured nail, her presence needing only the slight sound to get us to refocus. “Excuse me, we still have to tie up one last detail with Odd.” Turning to me, she gives me directions like a schoolteacher. “Your homework is to get laid between now and Tuesday.” I open my mouth to disagree, and she holds up her tiny hand. “I know it seems counterintuitive, but do it for yourself. It’s just a hookup.”
“Huh,” Anders says, butting in. “Sounds like the same advice someone else gave youweeksago.”
Parker sticks out her fist and they bump. Turning back to me, she asks, “But seriously, why are you going to a conference on serial killers?”
“Jake suspects that the people who supplied the kids to Rancho Horrible have ties to the conference organizers.”
