Chapter 36 Parker
“Tell me what happened.”
“No.”
“Tell me what happened or my pinched nerve will inexplicably reappear and I’ll make you bridal-carry me through town.”
I glare at River, who’s keeping pace with me as we jog around the wooded bend that links Brooks’s private street to the rest of Oakwood.
He glances back all innocent looking, but the little shithead is fighting a smirk.
He’s got a radar on him, too—the same way he somehow detected a shift between me and Summer after Rocky Ridge.
He’s convinced he caught me giving her a look this morning, and has been nagging me like an incessantly annoying kid brother since.
There were obviously looks. Though I’m not sure which one he happened to catch.
Maybe it was the I can’t wait to fuck you later. Or the please love me back, I’m dying a slow death every minute you don’t. Or was it what’s the minimum required time I need to wait before begging you to marry me?
“You realize I’m not a child, right?” River continues. “I know what it looks like when two people are f—”
I shout before he can finish that sentence. “No, none of that. I’m not discussing that with you.”
His smirk grows, even as he’s panting. “I never said I wanted to discuss it—all I wanted was confirmation, which you so kindly just gave.”
“Fine. Things with Summer have… progressed. In a good way. A great way, in fact.”
It’s not exactly what I’d hoped for when I set my heart on earning Summer.
But it’s been enough to have me floating through the past week.
She’s got me fully indoctrinated. Completely convinced that this is all I’ll ever need for the rest of my life.
Me and Summer. Fucking. Surfing. Eating.
Fucking some more. Reading in bed together, then listening to the hums she makes in her sleep, her face pressed into my chest—when I can let myself believe that, with a bit of luck, time, and a few more items checked off her dream man list, she could love me one day, too. Would let me have this forever.
And if that fails, I’ll simply fuck her to a delirious state, then make her promise to marry me before she comes to her senses.
“Figured that was the case, now that I don’t have the human equivalent of Eeyore training me.
I’m…” River’s voice stalls, and I watch him struggle with words as we pass a row of bait shops.
“I’m happy for you. That’s all. You seem…
good, lately. I figured your girlfriend had something to do with it. ”
Girlfriend. I don’t correct him. Instead, I let the word float into the universe, sending a wish after it.
“River Nowak. Who knew you were so sentimental. Deep, deep beneath the surface.”
We come to a stop at a bench. River slumps into the seat, bracing his elbows on his thighs. He draws deep breaths while I wrench off my hat to push the sweaty hair off my forehead.
“Was it hard, getting started with physical therapy?” Despite the question, River’s gaze sweeps the street with his usual apathy.
“I’m not sure I understand. I haven’t had an injury requiring therapy since I played college ball.”
He sighs like I’m being dim on purpose. “I meant working in physical therapy. Rehabbing athletes. Do you like it?”
I drop onto the wooden bench. “I wasn’t sure I did for a while. But yeah, I do. It’s nice heading home at the end of the day knowing I made a difference in someone’s life.”
“Do you think it’s something I could do one day?”
He’s still checking out our surroundings, the picture of indifference, but I hike a knee on the seat to face him. “I thought your plan was to make it to the league?”
“It is. But I’ve been thinking about what you said before—about having more than one plan.”
I try match his nonchalance despite the inner burst of satisfaction, knowing anything else won’t get me very far with River.
But damn if hearing him talk like this, planning for his future, doesn’t feel gratifying.
“If it’s something you decide you want to do one day, I’ll do whatever I can to help.
We can make sure you’re getting the right credits in college. ”
“Okay. Whatever.”
“And what about Macy? Have you reached out to her?” River’s eyes narrow, but I’m not teasing him. “River, that was a three-and-a-half-mile run we just did. You haven’t touched your crutches in weeks. What else are you waiting for?”
“I keep thinking about asking her out… and her saying no.” River glances at me. “I know I’m being a chicken shit. You don’t have to say it.”
“I definitely think you are. But I get it. Whatever this is with Summer… I’m not sure she feels the same way.” I stare down at my open palms. “She doesn’t want to tell anyone about us.”
River drops his face into his hands. “Why is this stuff so hard?”
“If it weren’t hard, it wouldn’t be worth having.”
And I mean that. For now, I’ll take what I can get of Summer.
I’ve got a foot in the door. And in the meantime, I’ll become gainfully employed.
Figure out a five-year plan, somewhere to live where the main perk isn’t being able to judge the busyness of the bar below.
And I need to learn how to fry an egg without setting off the smoke alarm.
“Good morning, you two. Not a bad day for a run.” River stiffens as Wynn Sheffield, diner owner and blueberry donut purveyor, approaches us with a grin. He’s wearing a dusty pair of shorts streaked with what looks like plaster.
“Hey, Wynn. How are the repairs coming along?” I ask, trying to save River from conversation. I can feel him shrinking into himself, and fuck if my heart doesn’t ache for him. It can’t be easy, running into the owner of the business his car destroyed in that storm.
“I’m on my way back there now—the new floors are finally getting put in. Did you know Danica Klein set up a fundraiser for the diner?”
Fucking Danica Klein. Of course she’s taking credit for Summer’s idea. I bite my tongue, remembering the promise I made Summer not to get involved in her issues with the town.
Wynn’s gaze swings over to River. “I’ve been hoping to run into you, River.”
River manages a split-second glance at Wynn. “Oh.”
“I haven’t seen those crutches of yours in a while,” Wynn continues. “I’ll tell you, nothing makes me happier. I’m glad to see you doing better.”
River’s shoulders ease when he sees the man grinning down at him. “Thank you. That’s… nicer than I deserve.”
Wynn’s smile falls. “Nonsense. I’ve known you since you were a baby. Why would I want otherwise?”
You’ve known Summer since she was practically a baby, too.
My knee bounces compulsively, body trying to expend the sudden buildup of energy within me, dying to leap into action. Don’t get involved. Do not get involved.
Thankfully, a car pulls up to the curb behind us. River’s dad calls out for him from the open passenger window.
“I better go.” River flashes a tentative smile at us before adding, “Thanks. To both of you.”
Just like that, my buffer’s gone. And I know I promised Summer. I know I did. But the injustice of it all is eating away at me, and—
“It wasn’t Danica.” The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. “The fundraiser was Summer’s idea. She set it all up.”
The surprise in Wynn’s face fades fast, like now that he thinks about it, this version of events makes a whole lot more sense. “Is she all right? I haven’t seen her in months.”
“She’s Summer. Puts on a happy face, but the gossiping destroyed her. You should see the way some people have been treating her—it’s her parents’ divorce all over again, except now she’s the bad guy.”
Wynn gives a frustrated sigh. “I never believed that for a second, not that she’s given me the chance to say so. She runs the other way every time she catches sight of me.”
“Can you blame her? Ninety percent of town did believe it—and all of them should’ve known better. It’s no wonder she’d assume you did, too.”
Wynn looks out toward the diner. “I suppose that’s fair. But some of us miss her very much.”
“Then maybe try a little harder to show it. Give her a reason not to expect the worst,” I tell him. When Wynn gives a contemplative nod, I decide to push my luck. “If you happen to be in the mood to start—or to pay it forward for the donations? I might have an idea as to how you could.”
A couple of hours later, I’m heading home from an impromptu cooking lesson at the diner.
I reek of bacon but feel like I’ve got a decent grip on various methods of cooking eggs, after several failed attempts—enough to try my hand at making breakfast for Summer in the morning, and convince Wynn that giving me nightly cooking lessons going forward won’t be a complete waste of his time.
Summer wants a man who cooks. So, fuck it. I’ll become a man who cooks.
My phone goes off just as I’m nearing my place. I pull it out to find Brooks’s name lighting up the screen.
“If this is about the mess I left your gym in this morning, rest assured that I’ll clean it up in due time. Also, lay off the security cameras, you creep.”
Brooks chuckles. “There aren’t security cameras in the gym. But you might want to start thinking about getting your own training space.”
Fuck. I’ve been dreading this day. “How long until you want me gone?”
“I don’t care if you stay. But I figure once you hear this, you’ll want something a little more formal than my house.
” There’s barking on his end of the line, and Brooks takes a moment to talk his dog down before coming back to me.
“I just got a call from my GM, who wants to know if you’d ever agree to let them ship players on our injured reserve to work with you in Oakwood. ”
I stop dead in my tracks. “This better not be a joke.”
“It’s not. You fucking earned it.” I can hear the smile in Brooks’s voice. “Are you in?”