Chapter Twelve Parker
Chapter Twelve
Parker
Of all the times I’ve dreamed about making love to Noel Carter, not once did that fantasy include Rockaway Falls.
But that’s exactly what happened.
I had sex with Noel Carter.
I had sex with my best friend.
I feel different and the same all at once.
Different because Holy crap, I just had sex with Noel , and the same because it felt so ... natural. Right. Perfect.
“You know,” he says, his fingers dancing along my naked back. We have no idea where my suit top went. After waking up from a brief nap, we searched for my suit for thirty minutes, but we could only recover my bottoms. I guess I’ll be hiking back in just my T-shirt. “The first time I came out here was with my parents. They brought me here for the day.”
“What’d you do?” I ask, though I already know the story. He’s told it to me many times over the years, but I still love to hear it. The joy in his voice is worth hearing over and over.
“We had a picnic. Gran sent us here with tuna-salad sandwiches and a homemade blueberry cobbler. We ate and laughed, then took turns jumping off the top of the cliff before doing it all over again. We stayed out so late we had to walk back in the dark, my mother telling my father, ‘I told you so, Jeffrey,’ the whole way back. He’d respond with, ‘Yeah, but we sure had fun, didn’t we, Tiff?’ She’d roll her eyes, but she’d still be grinning. That’s what they always did—laughed at each other. Even when they were mad, they still laughed.” He swallows roughly. “It was my favorite day out here for a long, long time.”
“What knocked it out of first place?”
“You.”
I smile against him. “My first time was with you.”
“I remember. You fell about halfway down the trail and skinned your knee so bad that blood was running down into your shoe, but you refused to give up until you saw the Falls.”
“I was awfully determined, huh?”
“You were. But that’s what I’ve always liked about you. Even though you were quiet, you weren’t going to stay that way. You were going to leave your mark no matter what.”
“It’s part of why I like design so much. Sure, I’m designing for other people, but I’m designing for me, too, and I always leave a little piece of me behind.”
“I can see that. Like the waterfall in Rossi Café. That’s not them . That’s you and what this place means to you.”
“It’s you too. You helped me make it.”
He drags his fingers over my back again, his touch so featherlight that goose bumps spring up over my skin. “I just helped you see it from a different perspective, is all.”
“You’ve always been able to do that, you know. Bring out a different side of me. Make me courageous.”
“Nah. That side has always been there. She just needs a little reassurance sometimes.”
I like the way he talks about me. It’s the same way he always has. Noel has never made me feel less than. He’s never made me feel inadequate or slow or like I wasn’t worth his attention. He’s always lifted me up whenever I was down and done everything he could so I would see my worth as he does.
“You know what else she needs?” he asks.
“What’s that?”
“Kisses.”
Without warning, he swings me over on top of him, his hand going to the back of my head as he pulls me down for a kiss.
It’s hard and searing, and it doesn’t take long until I’m writhing on top of the obvious erection he’s sporting.
“Fuck,” he mutters against my lips. “What have you done to me, Parker?”
I don’t think he’s really looking for an answer, so I don’t give him one. Instead, I roll my hips against him, and he hisses at the contact.
“I swear, you make me feel like a teen again. I’m entirely too fucking close to coming in my swim shorts.”
I giggle. “Sorry,” I say, but I don’t mean it at all.
“You’re not.” He squeezes my hips. “And it’s mean.”
I arch a brow. “Is that so?”
“Hmm. It’s so.” He kisses me. “And I’ve been thinking, and I believe I know how I want you to make it up to me. How you could apologize.”
“Oh, you’ve been thinking, huh? In the last, what? Three seconds?”
“What can I say? I’m quick on my feet.”
I laugh, rolling my hips against him once more. He groans, his grip on me tightening. “What’s my penance?”
“Up.”
I stop moving against him, pulling away to look at him. “What?”
“Crawl up.”
I tip my head, still not understanding.
“Straddle my face, Parker. I want your knees on either side of my head so I can taste your pussy that felt so good around my cock.”
“Oh.” It comes out breathless because I am breathless.
And I’m hot. So, so hot. Sitting on Noel’s face shouldn’t be so appealing, but it is. I want it.
“Well?” he asks.
I answer him by following his request, scrambling up and over him until my knees are caging him in.
“That’s my girl.” He reaches a single finger up, hooking it into my suit bottoms and tugging them to the side. “Now sit.”
“What?”
He squeezes my cheek with his free hand. “Sit.”
“I . . . I can’t.”
“You can.” He clutches me tighter. “Sit.”
“But I . . .”
“I swear, if you say something silly right now about how you’re going to crush me, I won’t lick your pussy, and we both know it’s exactly what you want right now. Sit, Parker, and don’t make me say it again.”
There’s something in his voice ... a growl that I can’t help but listen to, and I sink down, his mouth connecting with my core. I cry out in relief as his tongue snakes out against me.
I’ve had a guy go down on me once before, and it was so terrible I never let it happen again.
But this? This is different in every possible way.
He teases me, sucking my clit into his mouth just enough to torment me before releasing me again. He does it over and over, taking me to the edge, then backing off, until I’m grinding down on him with a wildness I didn’t realize I had in me.
I’ve never felt like this before—this wild and brazen. He just came inside me not even an hour ago, and now he’s licking at me like he’ll never get enough.
I can’t get enough either.
I throw my head back, my breasts exposed for anyone to see if they were to come out to the Falls, but I don’t care. I can’t care. Not when he’s touching me like he is. Not when it feels so, so good.
He slides a single finger inside me as he draws my clit into his mouth once more, but this time he doesn’t stop, and my orgasm hits me out of nowhere, sneaking up and slamming into me with a force I’ve never felt before.
I’m not sure how long Noel keeps playing with me, but eventually, my legs grow tired, and I can’t keep myself held up anymore, and he relents.
He helps me back down, then rolls me to my back. He pushes his swim shorts down, then slides into me once more.
He makes love to me again, slowly and gently and at his own pace until I’m bucking against him, and he’s sighing into my neck as he comes inside me.
I didn’t know it could be like this. Didn’t know it could be so good.
But I should have. Should have known that with Noel it would be different. It always is.
And that’s the scariest part of it all.
When we hike back from the Falls, the town is dead, and I’m not surprised. It usually is around sunset, especially on Sundays. All the shops close around three or four, and the day becomes less about business and more about spending time with loved ones. I’ve always appreciated the work-life balance the community has pushed.
Noel carries our backpack stuffed with our wet towels and blanket. He’s got our now-empty cooler in one hand and mine in the other.
Walking down Borgen and holding hands with Noel should be strange, but it’s not. Another thing that feels as natural as breathing.
“So, good date?” Noel asks, grinning down at me.
My cheeks instantly heat as I remember everything we did this afternoon. “Good date.”
“Do you want it to be over?”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Was thinking we could make dinner at your place?”
My brows shoot up as we pass by Fran’s pie shop, which is closed for the evening too. “You cook? Because I distinctly remember you setting off the smoke detectors over a grilled cheese sandwich— twice .”
“First of all, I wouldn’t have burned a thing if you hadn’t distracted me.”
“I was just doing my homework.”
“Exactly, and it was incredibly distracting.” He grins. “Second, I’ve come a long way since then. I can cook several things now, thank you very much.”
“Like?”
“Well, breakfast, for starters.”
“Everyone can make breakfast. It’s called cereal.”
“I mean real breakfast. Eggs, bacon, hash browns, waffles. That kind of stuff.”
“Fine. I’ll give you that. What else you got up your sleeve, Chef?” I tug on his plain mustard-yellow shirt as we walk by the local butcher shop that makes the best grab-and-go burgers. It shouldn’t be a color that looks good on him, but somehow, it does.
“I can make pasta. And before you say that’s just boiling noodles and opening a jar, I mean, I can make it from scratch .”
“You make your own noodles?”
“Well, no. But I make my own sauce,” he says proudly as we hook a left and cross the street to the side my house is on.
I nod. “You’re impressing me more and more. What else?”
“Let’s see. There’s steak.”
“Yummy.”
“A mean French onion soup.”
I wrinkle my nose as we pass my neighbor’s yellow house, their front yard full of flowers that Clifford planted last year. “Pass.”
“Reubens,” he adds.
“And you’re reeling me back in.”
“Salmon, chicken, shepherd’s pie,” he continues, listing off foods as we turn into my short driveway that’s more of a parking spot. “Oh, and of course, your favorite dish, la—”
“Mom!”
I quickly drop Noel’s hand and take a step away from him like I just got caught doing something I shouldn’t be doing.
I don’t know why I do it. It’s not like my mother would be upset if something happened between me and Noel. She loves Noel. She’d be thrilled.
But still ... I want to keep this to myself for just a bit longer. At least until I know there’s actually something to tell.
If she notices we were holding hands, she doesn’t show it.
“Well, well, well,” she says, rising from the chair on my front porch and walking down the front stairs to meet us. “If it isn’t my daughter who I was just about to send the Coast Guard out to look for.”
I roll my eyes. “You’d send Park Services, not the Coast Guard, Mom.”
“Well, whoever. But I was just about to call them up.” Her eyes drift down my body. “Nice to see you made it back in one piece.”
I cross my arms over my chest, subtly trying to hide the fact that I’m not wearing a bra—well, bikini top. “We lost track of time.”
A sly grin tugs at her lips. “I’m sure you kids did. Did you have fun?”
“We did.” Noel coughs out a laugh, then bumps his shoulder against mine. “Peter, tell your mom how much fun we had.”
I scowl at him for putting me on the spot, then turn a tentative smile to my mother, who can always read me so easily. “So much fun.”
My mom chuckles. “Well, I just came over to talk to you about last night. I’ll get out of your hair so you two can—”
“No!” I blurt out, holding my hands up to stop her. “No,” I repeat, calmer this time. “Stay. I want to hear.”
Her eyes flit between Noel and me, but eventually, she nods. “All right. If you insist.”
“I do. I really do.” I look up at Noel. “Do you mind?”
“Of course not. I should probably get home to check on Gran, anyway. I’m sure she’s just bored to death without me around.”
I didn’t mean for him to leave, but now that he’s suggested it, I realize I don’t hate the idea.
Not because I don’t want him around—I do. But I need some time to process what has transpired today. We took a big step, and I haven’t entirely wrapped my head around its consequences yet.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
He bends, pressing a kiss to my cheek. It’s not completely out of the norm, but it’s unusual enough for my mother’s eyes to widen in surprise at the gesture.
“I’ll text you later,” he tells me, then wraps his arms around my mom before taking off.
I watch him go the whole way, unable to wipe the smile off my face, even when he turns the corner and disappears.
“So ...,” my uninvited guest says, and I turn to her. “How was your day really , dear?”
I roll my eyes, walking past her and into my house. I should probably lock it, but nobody ever locks their doors around here. “Stop it. Get inside.”
“What? I’m just curious. Can’t a mother be curious about her daughter? Can’t she wonder why she’s walking home without a bra on?”
“Mom!” I hiss, pushing open the door and pointing inside. “Go.”
She cackles as she waltzes by me.
I let the door slam closed behind me and march straight to my bedroom while my mother stops to give Pumpkin chin scratches. I strip off my shirt, grab a bra from my top drawer, and put it on before pulling a fresh shirt off a hanger and meeting my mother in the kitchen.
She’s already at the coffee station working on making us a pot. She dumps the grounds into the filter, then closes the lid before reaching up and pulling two mugs from the cabinet above while I go to the fridge for my creamer.
I pour a bit into my mug, then plop down in a chair at the small, two-person walnut table I refurbished, while she stands with her back against the counter, watching me with a knowing grin.
“What?” I finally grit out after several minutes of her staring at me.
“Nothing.” She lifts a shoulder, but I know her. It’s not nothing. It’s never nothing with her.
She always knows when something is up, and while I love it most of the time, sometimes—like right now—it’s the last thing I want.
The coffeepot gurgles out the last of the fresh brew and Mom pours us each a cup before taking the spot opposite me.
“So, want to hear about last night?”
Oh, thank gosh. A subject change.
“Yes, please. Give me all the details. Every last one.”
She sighs wistfully. “Well, as you can imagine, Cliff was—”
“Hang on, hang on. Cliff? He doesn’t allow anyone to call him Cliff except for old Ms. Chan, but she doesn’t let anyone boss her around.”
“Yes, he lets me call him Cliff,” she mutters with a grin. “ Anyway , Cliff was surprised I bid on him. See, the thing is, we’ve kind of been ... friendly toward one another lately.”
“Friendly? Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?”
She narrows her eyes at me. “What did you and Noel do today at the Falls, Parker Bernice?”
I sink lower in my chair at the use of my middle name and the reminder of exactly what went on today. “Tell me more about how friendly you are with Cliff.”
“We’re not sleeping together if that’s what you’re after.”
“Yes, because I am dying to know about my mother’s sex life,” I deadpan.
“We’re just ... friends,” she continues. “Now that I’ve been on my own for a few years, I’ve realized how much I’ve grown to dislike the quiet. Cliff’s been living alone his entire life, and he seemed like he could use some company. One night, I noticed he was up late, so I went over with a carafe of coffee. We got to talking, and one thing led to another, and well ...” She lifts a shoulder. “I guess we’re going steady.”
Going steady.
It’s such a dated term, but it paints a clear picture of what’s been going on. He’s her boyfriend.
It’s sweet. And completely unexpected.
Since my father left, I can’t recall a time when my mom ever expressed an interest in dating. She’s always seemed happy being single. In fact, I do remember several times she sang anthems about how freeing it was to be single.
Maybe it was all a front. Maybe she wasn’t as happy as she’s always let on. Maybe she’s just as lonely as I’ve felt.
“Stop that, dear. Don’t get that look on your face.”
I peek up at her. “What look?”
“The one where you look all sad. I was happy with my years of freedom. I truly was. So don’t think for a second that I regret them. I had fun and was okay with being focused on raising my talented, smart, and beautiful daughter. But you’re all grown up now, and I’m all grown up, and I think maybe ...” Another shrug. “Maybe it’s time for me to cut loose a little, you know? Have fun. Maybe let my guard down and see what someone has to offer me.”
She has my father to thank for being so guarded about trusting men again. I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t the same way myself—not just because of my father’s abandonment but also because of Noel’s.
Sure, I’ve let my guard down a little more over the years, but I still have reservations about letting people in—especially those who have hurt me.
I push those thoughts aside, wanting to focus on something happy, like my mother having a boyfriend.
“How long?”
“Hmm?” she asks over the rim of her mug.
“How long have you been dating Cliff.”
Red fills her cheeks. “Oh, not long,” she says dismissively.
I don’t buy it.
“Mother . . .”
She huffs. “Fine. About six months now.”
“Six months?!” I explode. “You’ve been dating Clifford Daws for six months and didn’t tell me?!”
“Well, yes. It’s not anyone’s business who I date.”
“I’m your daughter.”
“You are, which means I’m still your mother and entitled to my privacy. But now you know all my juicy details, so let’s talk about Noel.”
I lift my head. “It’s not anyone’s business who I date,” I throw back at her.
She lifts her brow in response, unaffected by my childish ways.
I groan, dropping my head against the table. “Let’s not.”
“Parker . . .”
“It was nothing,” I say against the table.
“Then why did you just say you were dating him.”
I lift my head. “Well, to be fair, it was one date, and it was for the auction.”
“Right. And I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact that you’ve been in love with this boy since you were, what, fourteen?”
I gasp. “I have not! I didn’t even like boys then.”
That’s a lie, and we both know it. I definitely liked boys then, but mostly, I liked actors or musicians. I didn’t like Noel.
At least, I don’t think I liked Noel.
Sure, I noticed him, but I didn’t notice him. Not really ... Did I?
I shake the thought away because that’s absurd. “I didn’t have feelings for him until our senior year. You know that.”
“You mean the kiss.”
I swallow, remembering the pain that followed. It still stings, despite Noel’s apology. His words were sincere, and I know he meant every single one. And I want to move forward, but kind words and an afternoon of bliss don’t erase years of pain like some magic Band-Aid. “Yeah, that.”
“Did you two talk about that at all? Or were you too busy doing other things?”
I ignore her second question, bringing my coffee cup to my lips for the first time. I take a sip, then blow on the brew because it’s still too hot to drink.
“We talked,” I tell her.
“And? Have you two worked things out?”
“We’re not a hundred percent yet, but we made ... progress.”
It’s not a solid answer, but she grins anyway, and it’s the biggest smile I’ve seen from her since ... well, last night when she dragged Clifford off the stage.
I can’t help but smile back. Even though we certainly still have stuff to work through, I’m happy with where things are with Noel. And it’s been a long, long time since I could say that.
“Do you think you can have what you had before?”
I don’t know how to answer her because I’m not sure. I don’t know if we can, but I don’t necessarily know if that’s a bad thing either. We were young then. We didn’t know what we wanted out of life, and now we do. Maybe we can build something better than what we had before, even if Noel is leaving again.
Sure, there’d be a lot we need to discuss, but there’s no sense in rushing into that now, especially when we don’t even know what this thing between us is. Are we friends with benefits? Are we picking back up where we left off ten years ago? Or are we something else entirely?
I don’t know, and I don’t need to know right now. I’m enjoying myself too much to want to think it to death, especially since I’m not even sure if this is something more, if I’d be willing to give up everything to follow Noel to LA.
I push all the thoughts away for later when I’m not rocking an exhilarating post-orgasm high.
“We’ll see,” I settle on, then wave my hand. “Enough about Noel and me, though. Tell me more about you and Cliff .”
A dreamy look crosses her features, and she sets her chin on her hand, that smile still present. “Well, I guess what really started it was ...”