Chapter 8
Landon
Iknock for a third time, wondering if maybe I have the wrong apartment. I pull up the message, checking the number on the door against the text, just as it swings open. My eyes fly up to find Parker standing in the doorway , absolutely covered in red and black paint.
“Fancy seeing you here.”
Ben?
He steps up behind Parker, giving me a little wave.
My throat goes dry as I stare at the two of them. I don’t know why, but something about the visual is… appealing, and that’s awildlyinappropriate thought to be having. Jesus, what is wrong with me?
“Uh. I’m just here to get my hoodie.”
Parker smiles. “Right. Let me go grab it.”
“Come on in,” Ben says right after.
Parker turns around, and if I know anything about him, he’s definitely glaring. “What the hell, Benson. You can’t just invite someone into someone else’s house.”
Ben shrugs. “Why not? Landon’s my friend. He’s a good guy.” Ben looks up at me. “Do you like true crime? Parker and I were just about to watch some. Wanna join us?”
Parker’s outraged gasp has something twisting in my stomach. “What the fuck, Ben? You really can’t do that.”
My cheeks burn hot.
“Aww, Cotton Candy, come on.” Ben sticks his bottom lip out.
“I wouldn’t want to impose,” I say, interrupting their… lovers’ quarrel. “I can come back another day, man.”
Or not. Parker can keep the hoodie forever at this point.
Parker looks up at the ceiling, then turns around. “You can come in. But holy fuck, you’ve gotta stop calling me man. And… don’t fucking call me Cotton Candy either.”
The flush on my cheeks gets hotter, and I’m sure it’s visible on my skin. There’s no way it’s not. “Okay. I won’t call you Cotton Candy, or man. But, uh, will you tellme what youwantme to call you?”
The blinding smile that takes over Parker’s face nearly stops my heart. Holy shit. “Alright, come in.”
I follow the two of them inside and try hard to keep my eyes from straying and taking in the space. I’m curious about Parker. I can’t help it.
Parker glances at Ben. “Kai really might be onto something with the sign thing.”
I’m a little confused by that, but Ben chuckles just as Parker turns to face me. “I’m nonbinary. My pronouns are they/them.”
My throat goes tight. “Alright,” I say, nodding. I’m not an idiot. I know nonbinary people exist, and I probably shouldn’t make assumptions about people’s gender. That’s fully on me. Is it appropriate to apologize? Fuck, I don’t want them to think I’m trying to make it all about me. If I apologize, is that going to make it worse?
Parker taps their foot on the ground, eyeing me warily.
“I’m Landon,” I say again, even though Parker definitely knows my name. “My pronouns are he/him.”
Ben grins at me over Parker’s head, and the warmth in his gaze helps my stomach untwist just a little.
Parker’s lips turn up at the corner in a little half-smirk. “That’s good to know.”
“I really don’t need to stay,” I blurt out. “I can get my hoodie and go. I’m just some asshole who keeps somehow managing to run into you over and over.”
Parker laughs—this tinkling, bright sound. “Yeah, but listen, my parents? Total hippies. So if they were here, they’d be talking about some red string theory shit.” Parker closes their eyes, then brings their hands up like they’re meditating or something. “‘The universe works in mysterious ways, Parker. You need to listen when She talks.’”
