26. Parker
26
PARKER
W aking up alone after I fell asleep lying on top of Danny is disconcerting. Despite the thick comforter, the bed feels cold and empty, leaving a chill that’s more than just coldness pebbling across my skin.
It takes me a moment to realize that he’s gone. Exhaling sadly, I glance around his bedroom and remember that it’s Sunday, and his shift started at seven a.m. this morning. He’s not just gone, but he’s not going to be here for four days.
Racking my mind, I try to remember if he woke me up to say goodbye, but I don’t even have the vaguest of memories of anything beyond passing out from exhaustion and emotional overload after we fucked.
Nope, fucked is definitely not an accurate description of what we did last night. I’ve been fucked by Danny before, and that was definitely not fucking. Missionary isn’t a position that I’d ever say I loved, but last night, having him above me, inside of me, covering me with his huge body from every angle was perfect.
It was a type of sex that I’d never experienced before. I’ve played with a lot of toys, watched my fair share of porn, and yet nothing I’ve seen, read, or experienced prepared me to be…owned the way Danny did last night.
The only words he uttered after we said goodbye to his friends were, “I love you.” Not over and over, not screaming or yelling, he just said those three little words once, and it changed everything.
I don’t know how or why they had such an impact; he’s told me he loves me before, but last night as he whispered them to me while he pushed himself into my body, those three words became something different.
He loves me.
He loves…me.
He. Loves. Me.
He loves me, and I love him.
I love him.
I really, really love him.
He’s not going to get bored of me. He’s not experimenting with me. He’s not going to leave me the first time a pretty blonde cheerleader-type flirts with him.
Because he loves me.
He’s loved me since he saw a picture of me. He’s been asking me over and over to come here. He’s told me in a million ways in the last year that he loves me, and I didn’t hear any of it.
I’m an idiot. But I’m an idiot that he loves.
I’ve messed up so many times. I’ve rejected him twice, and I have a feeling that he didn’t wake me up this morning because he thought I might change my mind again. But I haven’t, and I won’t, not ever again.
Reaching for my cell phone, I take a picture of the empty bed beside me and send it to him.
Me: I miss you already. Love you x
His reply is immediate.
Danny: Miss you, love you xx
Suddenly just telling him that I love him doesn’t feel like enough. I need to show him in a way that will prove that I’m not doubting how either of us feels anymore. I need to show him in a way I know he’ll understand.
Opening up the messaging app in my cell, I start adding names into a group chat, then type out a message.
Me: Hey guys, I need your help.
Despite the early hour and the fact that I haven’t known any of the people I just asked for help that long, a barrage of replies come in quick and fast.
Henry: Are you okay? Also, we need to talk about how a certain person got my address!
Bonnie: What’s up?
Cora: Most sex handcuffs have a release button you can press, unless they’re police ones, then you’ll need the key.
Betty: Is everything okay?
Etta: I’ll get dressed and come over.
Alice: What can we help with?
Smiling to myself at how awesome all of my new friends are, I type out a quick reply.
Me: I need help to start thinking like a Barnett.