Chapter 13 Parker #2
I take her in like the greedy fucker I am.
Her hair dances in her signature beach waves, skin glows with rosy cheeks.
Toned, mile-long legs are covered in pale gray leggings, and a tight-as-sin tank top hugs every rise and dip of her upper body—over the swell of her tits, curving along her waist, showing off the hint of abs I’ve watched her work so hard for.
But am I…
Then Summer grins, lighting up the room, the entire hemisphere.
Growing brighter as she lays her excited gaze on Melody.
And dear God, I’ve never known jealousy like this.
It claws at me, nearly gutting me of my sanity, and for a wild moment I truly consider shoving my own sister out of the way to have that smile all to myself.
Just like that, a mental dam comes crashing down, blinders come flying off. Because not within a single stretch of anyone’s imagination is that a standard reaction to seeing a platonic friend smile at your relative, and…
Sophomore year of high school.
We were at a party, sitting around an empty spinning bottle of cheap vodka, stolen out of my parents’ unmanned liquor cabinet. It had been my turn to play, and that bottle spun and spun around that circle of underagers, only to land pointing at my best friend.
She’d turned those sparkling green eyes on me and it was like clouds parting, rabbits pulled out of top hats.
Not love. But possibilities. Maybes, yeses. Definitelys.
Summer was always simply Summer to me. A constant, favorite presence in my life. It’d never occurred to me that I was allowed to want her that way. Until that bottle made her an option.
Made her the option.
For the first time in my life, I couldn’t stop thinking about how very… kissable she was. How close together we were sitting, knees touching. How I’d come up with every excuse under the sun not to kiss the other girls at that party when that same bottle dared me to.
We’d stared at each other for one long moment, with my heart nearly bursting from my chest. To this day, I swear she stopped breathing, too. At least for a second. And as quickly as I thought do it, she’d laughed.
Full-on laughed at me.
Said she had a hard and fast rule against messing around within the friend group. And she’d ordered me to spin again.
I buried that what-if as quick as it came—filed it under never gonna happen. Snuffed it out before it got the chance to ignite into something else. Something big and unruly. Overwhelming. Something I couldn’t undo.
I lived by the rule she’d made clear, almost to the point of obsession—our guy friends knew never to look twice at my sister, and I lumped Summer into that hands-off rule as best as I could. No messing around within the friend group. And I moved on with my life.
So I thought.
Now, in my sister’s kitchen, with a full-blown audience, my head spins with years upon years upon years of Summer. Words and actions and little moments rearrange themselves in my head, telling an entirely different story than the one I held as truth.
The way I’ve spent my entire life tailing her like a happy puppy. Following her to college, staying in the town where she was, applying to the same job as her. I’ve built my entire life around this woman like it was second nature—how the hell had I never noticed?
I’ve never once braided another woman’s hair.
Summer Fridays?
Summer fucking Fridays? I mean, come on.
“Don’t look so tense, Mels. I know you’re not a fan of parties but I came with ideas!
All very you.” Summer drops the box onto the island and sweeps Melody into a tight hug.
My throat dries the longer I stare at them.
The way Summer puts her whole body into delivering affection.
The way my sister, who’d been stressed over the state of my life mere minutes ago, melts into Summer in response.
It’s pure Summer. She’s so present, perceptive. Gives you exactly what you need without even waiting on the full story. She’s always been like this. Has done it for me countless times since the moment we met in that pillow fort, and…
There’s not a damn question about it.
I am absolutely, unequivocally, categorically in love with my best friend.
That overflow of affection for her? Devotion in disguise. That constant craving for her company? Yearning. And then there’s the lust. So much pent-up lust suddenly rushing through me that I feel like I’m on fucking fire. Needing to touch her and hold her and pin her down and—
My lovestruck spiral comes to a screeching halt.
A line forms between Summer’s eyebrows, and she momentarily buries her face in Melody’s shoulder before releasing her.
She graces Shy and Noah with their own smiles.
Conveniently, she ignores me and Zac in our corner of the kitchen.
I’d be more upset by it if I weren’t suddenly preoccupied with the nasty feeling that…
There. Her grin droops for half a heartbeat before she wrangles it back in place. She’s clasping her hands together so tightly her fingers are pale. She’s missing her nose ring.
What the fuck happened to her?
“Wow.” Shy lifts the lid off the box Summer deposited on the counter and pulls out a cupcake. “Did you bake these yourself?”
Summer’s grin wobbles again. “No, I don’t… I don’t cook, as you know. They’re from the bakery in Baycrest.”
“What were you doing in Baycrest?”
“Just… felt like hitting the boardwalk. Getting a change of scenery. All that ocean air really…” Her wandering gaze finally settles on me. “It’s good for the system, you know?”
“Yeah.” I nod, answering the question as though it weren’t rhetorical. And it feels so good. Saying even a single word to her. Feeling her eyes on me for the first time in weeks. “Hi.”
She doesn’t say anything, just rubs her lips together while maintaining eye contact. The room is blanketed in heavy silence, every single person fixed on our wordless exchange.
Then I notice the pink in her eyes. But when I open my mouth to demand answers, Summer gives a minute shake of her head. And finding myself on the receiving end of her silent, secret signals again has me heeding the warning.
“Anywho!” Beaming once again, Summer flings an arm across the island, making room for the pink folder she places there. I hurry to catch the box of cupcakes before it falls to the ground. “Shall we dial in the LA crew?”
A moment later, her phone is propped up on the island with Brooks and Siena filling the screen. She claps her hands, calling to attention the uneasy looks being exchanged around the kitchen.
“Okay!” Her voice is several notches too bright, even for Summer. “As you know, Zac and I have been entrusted with organizing this joint birthday weekend—”
“Summer, are you all right?” Mel takes a tentative step closer to her. “You’re acting a little… manic.”
“Me?” Summer laughs, laying a hand on her chest. “You’re so sweet for asking, but I’m great. Now, I took the liberty of investigating activities we could book for the weekend.” Summer flips open her folder and plucks a sheet off the top. “What do we think about—”
My attention catches on the mangled piece of paper now on top of her pile. It’s a bulleted list in her handwriting, dotted with dried-up splotches. Tears?
Mel’s noticed it, too, and she slides it toward herself while I skirt around the island to get a look over her shoulder. Summer chatters away. “Of course, we can always do the typical nightclub thing, but that wouldn’t be very Melody and Parker, you know? Thoughts? Questions?”
“ ‘Can’t cook,’ ” my sister mutters, reading off the tearstained paper. “ ‘Clothes too short. Mom wants nothing to do with me.’ Summer, what is this?”
I tug the list out of her hand, stomach sinking further with every line. I’m the good-time girl.
The room’s gone dead silent. Miraculous, considering the racket my heart is making. Red blotches bloom on Summer’s cheeks when she spots the paper in my hand.
She forces an airy laugh. “Oh, that? I thought it was about time for a mental reset. A fresh perspective! Given all my recent… turmoil.” She reaches for the page but I yank it away.
“What. Happened?”
She feeds me a snarky little smile. “Growling, Parker, really? Those minotaurs really did pique your interest, didn’t they?”
I shake the paper in my fist. I can’t help how my voice comes out when I’m clutching a list of cutting, poisonous things she’s written about herself. “Who said this?”
“I did.” She makes a grab for the paper. Her fake-as-shit enthusiasm clouds over when I don’t let her have it. “Cut it out, Parker. I mean it.”
“Did you run into him? You ran into him, didn’t you? I’m going to kill him.”
“Don’t you think maybe you’ve made enough rash decisions for one day?” Noah cuts in.
“What’s he talking about?”
“He quit his job today,” Noah supplies, helpful as ever.
Summer’s eyes nearly bug out of her head. “Parker, are you insane? It’s the only gym within a two-hour radius!”
“Tell me where he’s staying.” I fume, crumpling the paper in my hand. “Tell me now.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Mel snaps. It takes a whole lot of effort to drag my gaze off Summer’s furious face and onto my sister’s. “You two need to leave. Now.”
“What?” Summer squeaks. “We haven’t even settled on—”
Mel slices her hands through the air. “We’ve got an entire two months to figure out what we want to do for our birthday. But you two? You need to go figure out your shit before you’re both disinvited.”
Summer gasps. I scoff. “You can’t disinvite us. It’s my birthday, too. And she’s my best friend.”
“Yeah—what he said. You can’t kick us out!”
“Try me,” Mel says flatly.
“I wouldn’t try her,” Zac mutters from somewhere behind me.
I look around for support, but Shy and Noah are busy fighting laughter. On Summer’s phone, Brooks and Siena sit chewing on gummy worms, fixated on us like we’re primetime entertainment.
Melody’s arm swings toward the hall. “Get. Out.”