“I need clothes?—”
We both stop when we realize we spoke at the same time. I can feel the flush rise on my cheeks, and my neck heats. Parker just chuckles and takes a small step closer, his moss-green gaze sweeping over my face like a caress. What would it be like to touch him? Not that he’d want that—he’s Parker—but sometimes I think about touching someone, anyone, and allowing myself to feel without the fear of germs. To kiss andhold without fear is my greatest life’s wish. Well, that and for Reid to stop hating me.
“I have some freshly washed clothes for you, just stay there,” Parker orders, as if I’m considering going anywhere but here. He digs around in his dresser for a moment, returning with a well-worn T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that’ll surely swim on me.
Pointing toward the bathroom, I awkwardly ask, “Can I just…?”
“Yeah, go on. Spare toothbrush is under the sink.” Parker waves his arm toward the door. “I’ll just… wait out here.”
I feel myself flush. “Okay.”
The bathroom is just as bland and basic as the bedroom. Subway tiles in the shower, dark granite counters, and marble tiles. Even the towels are white. Where is Parker’s personality? Everything is so… plain. I look under the sink to find the basket with toothbrushes and tiny tubes of toothpaste. At least that’s safe for me. Once I’ve finished my bedtime routine and dressed in the gigantic shirt and sweatpants, I step back into the bedroom.
Parker has made a pallet on the ground with the dirty comforter and sheets to sleep on. He smiles his reassuring smile again, the one that makes it hard for my anxiety to spin a web of vicious thoughts in my brain. His gaze sweeps over me and his eyebrows pinch together at the sight of me in his clothes. Ugh.
“Yeah, I’ll buy you something new to replace these.”
Parker looks affronted at the very idea. “Why?”
“Well, I’ve worn them…”
Parker clears his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing hard. “That’s not a problem. It’s fine. I’m going to go get ready for bed now.”
I climb into the soft bed, my eyes already growing heavy just from the cloudy softness beneath me. I don’t know why I assumed his bed would be hard, maybe because of the blandness of his room. But the bed is pleasantly soft, like sleeping on a fluffy cloud. The sheets and comforter smell like lavender, comforting me and making me drowsy. Parker steps out of the bathroom in just sweatpants, and my mouth goes dry at the sight. He’s on the thinner side, but his muscles are made for quickness, tight and beautiful. I glance away from him to control my reaction. The light goes off a second later, and the room is tossed into pitch blackness. All I can hear is the sound of Parker curling up in the makeshift bed on the floor at the foot of the bed.
“Good night, Mason,” Parker calls out, hesitant and tired sounding.
“Good night, Parker.”
But I kind of wish he’d call me Mace again. What will I have to do to earn that?
CHAPTER 5
PARKER
Itossed and turned all night. Every time Mason would shift, make a little snuffling noise, or just fucking exist, my body would go on full alert. Even now, as the sun slits through the bottom of my blackout curtains, my body is aware of him in a way it’s never been before. I’ve only ever felt this protective over Jacob, and even then, not this kind of protectiveness.
I rub my sternum, not sure what that feeling in my chest is still. Last night, when I’d watched him kill his uncle, watched the fear blossom across his face, I’d had this unrelenting need to make sure he was okay. Not just safe from the repercussions from his actions, but make sure he didn’t hurt inside.
The sound of Jacob cooking downstairs filters into the bedroom, which in turn appears to slowly wake Mason from his deep slumber. I watch out of the corner of my eye as he stretches under the blankets and has a jaw-cracking yawn. He appears to remember where he is, because he squeezes his eyes tightly, slowly lifting the blankets to his nose to breathein deeply. Oh. I quickly look away and squeeze my own eyes shut in pretend sleep. The bed trembles as he climbs out, then he carefully steps over me to head toward the bathroom.
The sound of the shower turning on does something to me I can’t explain. Mason using my shower… Mason naked.Oh my god, Parker, stop imagining your friend naked. Because Mason’s my friend. I don’t have any friends besides Dante. I don’t let anyone close enough to be my friend.
I’m sweating and near a panic attack by the time Mason wanders out of the bathroom with wet hair, still wearing my clothes from the night before. He has a scar on his left bicep, thick and surgical in appearance. What is it from? Mason must feel my stare because he glances over his shoulder as he inspects my desk. He looks shy, maroon splashing across his cheeks, almost the same shade as his dark auburn hair.
“Morning,” Mason says shyly.
“Morning,” I echo, voice huskier than I’ve ever heard it.
“It sounds like breakfast downstairs?”
I nod slowly as I sit up. “That’s Jacob. He’s the cook.”
“I remember… from when Reid was missing.”
“Right.” I roll to a stand and look back at Mason, only to catch him turning away to stare at the door like it holds all the secrets of the universe. “Wanna go see if there’s any more news? And get some breakfast.”
“Sure,” Mason replies, but he sounds anything but sure.
