Chapter 5 Parker
PARKER
Ibarely got a wink of sleep.
Despite my shower, the scent of smoke still lingered in my nose. Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was my building being engulfed by flames.
I fought the tears with everything I had, but it was pointless. The more I thought about my home, about the things I’ve collected over the years that I love to surround myself with, the faster they fell.
I don’t know how much time had passed before I heard Linc push my door wider and step into the room. All I do know is that I kept my breathing as heavy and as even as possible, hoping he’d be convinced that I was sleeping.
What he did last night…well, it was more than I ever could have asked of him.
It was New Year’s; I’m sure he had plans to be out partying and pulling bunnies. Yet instead, he was here with me in his apartment, ruining any chance he had of bringing a woman back.
When I finally throw the covers off this morning, my body aches and my eyes are swollen and sore. I can only imagine how I look.
But unfortunately, as tempting as lounging around in bed all day is, I’ve got shit to deal with.
Just thinking about all the calls I need to make, all the things I need to replace, is making my head spin. I need to make a physical list and figure it all out. Then, I’ll work through one at a time.
Linc was right last night: it will be okay. It’s just going to take some time.
I pad through to the bathroom and kick the door so it almost closes behind me before dropping my ass to the toilet.
I stare at Linc’s boxers around my thighs and groan.
How the hell did I end up here?
Once upon a time, this would have been my ultimate fantasy. Wearing his clothes, being with him alone in his apartment.
I shake my head. That was the dream of an innocent teenager with a crush.
I’m a woman now who knows a hell of a lot better than to crush on my unavailable brother’s best friend.
Hell, I’ve learned a lot of lessons about men over the past few years.
The biggest of which, is that they can’t be trusted.
Okay, sure, there are a few out there who break the mold.
Kodie, Fletcher, a couple of others who prove on the daily that they truly love their women and are nothing but loyal.
I just…I haven’t met one who might be interested in being loyal to me.
Finishing up, I walk toward the sink and scan the counter.
It’s empty, save for a crappy bar of soap.
In desperate need for a toothbrush, I pull the vanity door open and peer inside.
A relieved sigh spills from my lips. Linc wasn’t lying; everything I could need really is in here.
In a rush, I rip at the packaging, squirt some toothpaste onto the brush, and freshen up.
I feel marginally better once I’m done, but sadly, the light pounding at my temples doesn’t lessen. Nor does the ache in my chest.
Wiping my mouth with the hand towel, I stand to full height and stare at myself in the mirror.
You are a strong, independent woman, Parker Donnelly.
You are about to be the LA Vipers’ first female athletic trainer.
This is not going to break you.
If anything, it’s an opportunity.
New job. New you.
Buy new clothes. Test out new makeup.
You got this.
I force a smile on my lips, my eyes tracking down my body that I work so hard to maintain, but the second my eyes land on a big number seven, everything I just told myself crumbles to the ground.
I don’t need to twist around to see my back to know what’s there.
“Motherfucker,” I hiss before racing from the bathroom and then seconds later, the bedroom.
“Lincoln Storm, why the fuck am I wearing your name and number?” I shout as I march toward the living area he briefly showed me last night.
It was all a blur, so when I step into the room, I immediately come to a stop. And not because of the half-naked man sitting at his kitchen island, sipping on coffee.
Motherfucker, indeed.
His eyes lock on mine, and a smile pulls at his lips. “Good morning, Little P. How did you sleep?”
Irritation shoots through me. How can he be so…so…blasé about this?
“Oh, wonderful. It was almost as if my entire apartment building didn’t go up in flames last night and I haven’t lost every single thing I own,” I snap, my hands on my hips for good measure.
His smile falters, but only for the briefest of moments before it’s back to full wattage again.
Asshole.
“So like a baby, then?”
“I need coffee if I have to deal with this,” I mutter, stalking toward the kitchen, and sadly, closer to him.
Why is he only wearing a pair of athletic shorts, and why does his hair have to be wet, dripping onto his shoulders and sending little rivers running down his chest and abs?
Stop fucking looking, Parker.
He doesn’t say a word as I come to a stop in front of his coffee machine.
My independence is soon squashed when I realize I have no idea where the pods or mugs are.
A deep chuckle rumbles around me.
“What?” I snap, whirling around to glare at him.
“You look hot with my name on you, Donnelly.”
“Bite me, Storm.”
He smirks. “Just give me the chance, babe. You know I’ll make it sting so good.”
I fucking hate that his words have my lower stomach tightening.
It wouldn’t be so bad if I thought he was bullshitting, but I know he’s not. His reputation alone is enough to prove that any bite—or anything for that matter—from Lincoln Storm would be more than good.
His lips part, and I internally groan in preparation for whatever lewd remark is going to spill free next. I swear, if he offers to make my day better by allowing me to ride his dick, I’ll forgo the coffee and launch the machine at his fucking head. There are coffee shops for a reason.
But what he does say makes me pause the very vivid images playing out in my head of the moment he tumbles to the floor, clutching his head.
“In the refrigerator.”
I narrow my eyes, confused by the words.
“Huh?” I say eloquently.
His expression turns smug, and it makes me want to punch him.
Why didn’t I force him to take me to a hotel last night?
“In the refrigerator,” he repeats.
Ripping my eyes from his, I scan the kitchen before focusing on the appliance in question.
Walking over, I pull the door open.
It’s practically empty, telling me what I already guessed: Linc isn’t much of a cook. But there, right in front of me, is a glass with what looks like a double shot of coffee in it.
“W-what’s this?”
He chuckles again, the deep rasp sending a shiver racing down my spine.
“Coffee, babe. Iced coffee, to be exact. Or at least, it will be once you add some creamer and ice. There are options in the door; I wasn’t sure what your preference was, so I ordered a few.”
Looking to my right, I scan the row of bottles.
Holy shit.
With the refrigerator door still open, the coldness rushing over my bare legs, I spin around and stare at Linc.
“You made me coffee and put it in the fridge?”
“I also ordered you creamer,” he states proudly. “At least tell me that one of them is right.”
My previous attitude vanishes, and my entire body deflates as emotion hits me out of nowhere. My nose itches and my eyes burn. I beg for the tears not to fill my eyes, but I’m powerless.
My sight gets blurry, but he’s as clear as day before me. “All of them are perfect,” I confess quietly. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, teasingly cupping his hand around his ear so he can hear better. “Can you repeat that?”
“Thank you, Linc. I really appreciate it.”
Our eyes hold for a moment, but the second I fear he can see more than I’m willing to share, I twist back around, grab the glass and one of the bottles of creamer, and complete my coffee.
Silence falls around us, but I know he’s watching. My skin is burning with his attention.
When I’m done, I rest my ass back against the counter opposite him and lift my glass to my lips.
Closing my eyes, I breathe in the scent of my coffee, letting it ground me for a moment before taking my first sip.
Shit. Linc has good coffee.
“Why?” I finally ask once I’ve savored my first taste.
“Why?” he echoes. “Because everyone deserves to start the day with good coffee.”
“Well, yeah. That’s a given. But I could have just come out here and made my own. Why go to the effort of making it earlier, putting it in the fridge, and ordering creamer?”
He laughs in disbelief, his hand lifting to rub the back of his neck.
“You have no idea, do you?”
“I’m too tired to talk in riddles, Storm,” I warn before taking another sip.
Damn, it’s good.
“You had a shitty night, and I can’t imagine today is going to be much better. I just…wanted to help, I guess.”
“Hmm…do you do this for all the women who spend the night here?”
Pushing his empty mug back a little, he rests his threaded forearms on the counter. He laces his fingers together, and it makes the muscles ripple and his veins become more pronounced.
I clear my throat and force my eyes back to his.
“So, what’s the plan for today?” he asks, completely ignoring my question.
I shrug one shoulder.
“I don’t even know who I need to call for information. The fire marshal?”
“And your insurance company,” he suggests, making me grimace. “If your things need replacing, then—what’s that look for?”
“Fuck’s sake,” I groan, tipping my head back and closing my eyes.
“Parker, please tell me that you had renters’ insurance.”
“Yeah, of course,” I say, looking back down but staring past him and into the living room. “I just…didn’t renew it the other week when it ran out.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“Do I look like I’m fucking shitting you? With the stress of the interview process, the holidays, I just…fucking hell.” I drop my face into my hands as pain and guilt war within me.
I can’t afford to replace everything I own.
I have some savings, and sure, my new position comes with a pay increase, but still…I don’t have a multi-million-dollar contract and more money than I know what to do with, like the man staring at me with disappointment etched into every feature of his face.
Oh god. Mom and Dad are going to be so disappointed in me.
Rett too.
“Parker,” Linc says, his voice closer this time.
I jump when his warm fingers wrap around my wrists, dragging my hand away from my face, stopping me from hiding from my massive fuck-up.
“There’s no point dwelling on something that can’t be fixed. Are you sure the policy ended?”
“Yes,” I whisper weakly.
“Okay, so let’s see if we can determine the extent of the damage. It might be okay. They could have stopped the fire before it got to the back of the building. Everything might be safe.”
I want to share his hope, I really do. But let’s be honest, it’s not going to be my reality. It’s just too good to be true.
“Go get your cell. Let’s get some answers before you start freaking out.”