25. Adair #2
He shifts closer, his tone softer now. “But after that? I kept it simple on purpose. I figured once this six-month thing ends, you wouldn’t want your brand tangled up in it. I didn’t want anyone thinking Citrine got ahead because of me, or because of some… scheme. I wanted her to see you .”
I blink, surprised by how much that means to me. Once again, I was jumping to conclusions because of my ego. And, once again, Parker was doing something thoughtful.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you with it,” he adds quickly. “I didn’t want to risk someone questioning your legitimacy. You’ve built something real. I thought the cleanest line was the safest.”
My throat tightens, but I nod. “Thank you,” I say softly.
His knee bumps mine gently. “For what it’s worth… when I called you my friend, I wasn't lying. The problem wa s, it didn’t come close to covering what you are to me.”
I glance over at him, and his eyes are steady on mine. Whoa. What's happening here?
I force a small smile. “Well, so you know, you’re the weirdest friend I’ve ever married.”
He grins. “And you’re the most demanding.”
“Excuse me?”
He lifts the bottle. “You insisted on the fancy champagne.”
“Because we’re celebrating my victory, not yours.”
“As it turns out, I have something to celebrate, too."
"Oh, really. Do tell, don't keep all the good news to yourself."
“You remember Gunner, right?” he asks after a minute.
I chortle. “He’s Bets’ brother. You ask me this every time you bring that man up. Yes, I know who Gunner is.”
He looks sheepish. “Well, we've been talking about Ana opening for me as an assistant surgeon at the hospital. It would mean staying here, settling down.”
My stomach does a weird flip. I’m not sure if it’s the champagne or the fact that this— us —might be shifting again.
“Wow. Parker, that’s big. Are you thinking about taking it?”
He gives a half-shrug, like he’s trying to play it cool, but I catch the edge of nervous energy in the way he taps his glass.
“I don’t know yet. I mean, I wasn’t planning to stay in Palm Beach forever. But, it’s starting to seem like maybe I could.”
“That’s amazing,” I say, and I mean it. But I also hear the unspoken part. He’s not talking about surgery.
“Would it be long-term? ”
He glances at me, the hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. “I don’t do much halfway, Adair.”
And like that, the air shifts. The warm breeze. The soft waves. And especially this fragile, unspoken "maybe" hanging between us.
We sit in companionable silence for a while, watching the sun dip below the horizon. The beach is quieter now, the families and couples from earlier having packed up and gone. It's like we’re in our little bubble, the rest of the world fading away.
“You know,” he starts, his tone a mix of teasing and something deeper, “I’ve been thinking a lot about what we’re doing here, too.”
I arch an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance even as my pulse quickens. “What do you mean?”
“This,” he says, motioning between us. “Whatever it is. I can’t help but wonder if it could be more.”
The weight of his words settles between us, and I take another sip of champagne to buy myself a moment. Part of me wants to lean into his words, to admit that I’ve been thinking about the same thing.
But another part, the part that keeps my walls up, resists. I’m still only in my twenties. I have dreams of being a powerful businesswoman like Bets, only settling after I've arrived.
Parker runs a hand through his hair, his gaze shifting to the waves. “I know it’s complicated. With the inheritance and the whole setup of the marriage. But, Adair, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”
My heart clenches at the sincerity in his voice. I don’t know what to say, so I laugh softly, trying to lighten the mood.
“Is this your way of saying you like me?”
He grins, but there’s a vulnerability in his eyes. “You know I do. I’ve liked you since the first time you told me off in the ER.”
“Well, I like you, too, Dr. Matthews,” I quip, though my cheeks flush at the memory.
Parker leans closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’m serious, Adair. I want something real with you. I don't want to stop seeing you when the six months are up.”
I glance away, the champagne glass trembling slightly in my hand. His words terrify me and thrill me in equal measure. The intensity of his gaze bores through me, but I can't respond because of the lump in my throat.
So, naturally, I lean in and kiss him. Not to distract or dodge, but because I don’t have the right words yet. Kissing him feels easier than trying to untangle all the messy ones in my head.
When we finally pull apart, I rest my forehead against his, my heart racing. “You’re the kind of guy who makes someone believe in forever.”
Parker pulls back slightly, his brows furrowing. “But not you?”
I bite my lip, unable to meet his gaze. I know I have feelings for him. But I don’t know if I can take the leap and say them out loud.
“I don’t know, Parker. I’m still figuring out what my life is supposed to look like. My energy right now is focused on making this business thing work.”
He looks at me intently, but doesn’t say anything. So I continue. “Because of your thoughtfulness, it's so close. I don't have to choose one or the other, but I don't have the bandwidth to give more than a day-to-day commitment right now. Beyond the six months, of course.”
He nods slowly, his expression a mix of understanding and disappointment. “I had a feeling you might say that.”
"But, so you know, I don't want to stop seeing you in six months, either. I don't know what that means right this minute."
"I can live with that," he says as he leans in for another kiss.
I smile faintly as his soft lips pull away. I wish I could have the clarity he does, but I know I have big feelings for him.
I don't know what to do with them.