14. Parker
14
PARKER
KISS ME
“Body language,” Gigi said, pivoting on her stool to face me. “Is the most important part of flirting.”
I nodded, the cookie I’d just bitten into forgotten. Rubbing my hands over my sweats to rid them of crumbs, I turned so that I was face-to-face with Gigi. In a flash, it was last night again. Our faces inches apart, the air between us charged and heavy.
My stomach flipped.
After I left Heathcliff’s last night, I was wound up. I couldn’t sit still to study, I couldn’t sleep. And so I baked. I baked and I fixated and I tried to forget. Because there was no way I’d read the moment right. Not a chance the zap of awareness had been real. Had been mutual.
But when I finally fell into bed in the early hours of the morning, exhausted and cookie-scented, Gigi’s voice chased me into dreams.
Babycakes, she said as she leaned over the bar. Baby cakes, she whispered as she closed the space between us. Baby, she murmured into my ear as she—
I blinked. Hard.
“—how you let someone know you’re interested,” Gigi was saying when I forced my attention back to her. And far, far away from the dirty, delusional path my mind had wandered down. “And how you know someone else is interested—or not.”
Nodding as if I’d been listening intently this whole time, I leaned closer. “Okay.”
Her eyes trailed over me, from the top of my messy bun to the tips of my sock-covered toes. For a moment, I thought she was going to call me out on my lack of focus. I steeled myself, readying an excuse. Something miles away from the reality of my thoughts. Grocery lists. Reading assignments. Cookie recipes. Anything but the truth.
Because the truth was…
Well, it was so far removed from reality, I questioned my sanity.
“For example,” Gigi continued. She gestured my way with her hand. “Your body right now language says you’re very interested.”
Heat blossomed in my cheeks. I straightened away from her. “Oh, I—”
“You’re angled toward me, making eye contact. You’re paying attention to what I’m saying.” Her lips tilted upward, eyes flickering. “Good girl.”
My next breath in caught in my throat. The simmering low in my belly heated to a boil. Squeezing my thighs together, I forced myself to exhale. “What’s next?”
Her gaze snagged on mine, something flashing across her face. She schooled her features before I could examine too closely. Before I could decipher if she’d read me like a book and was uncomfortable with what she found.
Or intrigued.
“Demonstration.” The word came out husky. Gigi cleared her throat and shook her hair away from her face. “Demonstration,” she repeated, her voice solid. All business. She stood and straightened her t-shirt. A cartoon puppy panted out at me from her chest.
I smiled, thankful for the distraction. “Cute shirt,” I said as I stood, too.
Gigi glanced down and huffed out a short laugh. “Thanks. It’s no moose and squirrel, but I like it.”
I looked at my own shirt. “ Supernatural, ” I explained. “It’s my favorite TV show.”
She nodded in recognition. “Ahh, yes. The straights love those guys.”
“Not just the straights.” I jabbed a thumb my way.
Laughing, she tilted her head in concession. “My bad.”
I waved her off, thankful for the break in one-sided tension. Dragging a deep, welcome breath into my lungs, I squared my shoulders. “Anyway,” I said. “Demonstration.”
“Right.” Gigi nodded. “So. When you’re into a person you’re talking to, and you want them to know, it’s important to have open body language. Loose. Comfortable.” She dropped her weight to one foot, cocking a hip. One arm hung loose at her side while the hand of her other landed on her hip. Her face was open, friendly. “Approachable.”
“All right.” I took in her stance and mimicked it. It felt awkward as all get out. “Like this?”
“Almost.” She stepped forward, hands reaching out. She paused before she made contact. “Okay?”
I nodded my consent her hands overed for a moment longer before she placed them on my hips. “You’re tense here. Like you’re about to run away.” Her brown eyes locked with mine. “Do you want to run away?”
Not a chance, my brain answered, focusing every bit of attention on where her hands rested on my body. Fingertips burning through the soft fabric of my sweats. I fought my body’s urge to lean into her touch. “N-no.” I shook my head. “I’m good.”
Gigi’s hands tightened their grip, then released. My breathing stuttered. “Relax,” she murmured, her mouth right next to my ear. “Breathe.”
My eyes fluttered closed. I exhaled, a long, unsteady breath, letting my muscles loosen.
“There ya go.” She gave my hips one last squeeze, then moved away. I opened my eyes, cold and bereft. Shaking it off, I focused on her next words. “Now. We’re gonna combine lessons one and two. Ready?”
I nodded, even though I was nowhere near ready.
In the blink of an eye, the concentration on Gigi’s face morphed into a coy smile. She angled her body toward mine. The part of my brain that knew this wasn’t real, that she was in teacher mode, faltered. My mouth went dry. I balled my fists at my waist and forced myself to stay put. To not bolt, to not move closer—either of which were equally likely in this moment.
Tilting her head, Gigi dragged a slow gaze up my body. “I love your shirt,” she said, voice warm. “ Supernatural, right?”
I nodded again. Jesus. When had I become a bobble head?
“Use your words,” she murmured when I didn’t speak. “Talk to me.”
My head bobbled again. I winced. “Sorry. Yeah,” I started, my voice wobbly. Clearing my throat, I tried again. “It-it’s my favorite show.”
“Right on.” She nodded, eyes wide, alight with interest. “I’ve only seen a few episodes.” Lifting her hand, she twirled a piece of vibrant red-orange hair around her finger. “Maybe we could watch it together sometime?”
“I…” My brain short-circuited as she looked at me like I strung the stars, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, as she awaited my answer. The logic part knew this was pretend. Part of the lesson. But the delusion-addled part of my brain latched onto the idea of Gigi and I, on the couch, watching my favorite show. Maybe snuggled up together. Maybe underneath the same blanket. Maybe…
“ Hellooo .” Gigi waved a hand in front of my face. “Earth to Parker.”
I blinked and shook my head. “Sorry,” I said. “I guess the late-night baking is catching up to me.”
Concern dipped her brows. “Do you want to wrap this up?” She laid an arm on my shoulder. “So you can get some sleep?”
“No, no.” I shook my head more vehemently than necessary and smiled. “I’m okay.”
Eyes narrowed, she looked me over. “You sure? Because we can do this some other—”
“I’m sure.” I said it too quickly. Was too eager. But if Gigi noticed, she didn’t say. Giving me one more once-over, she nodded. “Okay.”
Relief poured through me. I sighed. “Okay.” Shaking the tension out of my limbs, I re-assumed the position Gigi had put me in moments earlier. Be approachable, I told myself. Confident.
For a couple heartbeats, we were silent, the space between us laden with something I couldn’t identify.
“Pop quiz,” Gigi finally murmured into the quiet, taking a step forward. Holding my surprised gaze, she leaned closer, one elbow on the counter, torso tilted toward mine. “What…is my body language telling you right now?”
I dragged a breath into my lungs, bringing the scent of her with it. God, she smelled good. Like a beach bonfire at midnight. My body thrummed like a generator in a power outage. Her eyes, two pools of melted dark chocolate, held mine, and something in them made me bold.
I leaned against the counter, too, letting our arms brush. “I think,” I whispered, looking her over in a slow, careful study. My heart pounded so hard I was sure she could hear it. “I think,” I said again, gaze catching on her lips. Full and pink, free of lipstick for once. “You want me.”
As soon as the words left my lips, the air between us shifted. Like a crackle of lightning in a dry field.
“Yeah,” Gigi whispered, and I watched her mouth form the words. “I do.”
I pulled my gaze away from her lips to find her watching me, brows furrowed, eyes intense. My next breath lodged in my throat. I was sure I’d never breathe again until she kissed me. Until she breathed her life into my lungs.
“I think you’re ready for the next lesson.”
I licked my lips and nodded. “I think I am.”
Her eyes zoomed in on my mouth and I waited, burning and breathless, for her to close the distance. To press her lips to mine. To—
“Touch,” she said, voice husky and low. She lifted her hand and I watched in my periphery as she closed the distance between us. “When a person’s body language tells you they’re interested, you’ll want to encourage the flirtation by…touching them.” As she finished, her hand rested against my upper arm. A soft touch, but I felt it to my marrow.
“Just a light touch,” she continued. “Casual. Something that says, I’d like to explore this further .”
I looked down at her hand, its dark polish glittering in the light, and cursed the cotton barrier between us. “What’s next?”
“Well, that depends on how they respond.” Her voice was tight now, as if she, too, was fighting this pull between us. “If they’re receptive, then…”
“Then?” I prompted, lungs about to burst from holding my breath.
“Then,” she repeated, gaze flicking downward, then back to my eyes as she leaned in.
Please, I thought. Please show me.
My fingers gripped the edge of the counter as my entire body trembled with anticipation. I lifted my chin, my eyes drifting closed. The heat of her breath brushed my lips and my knees knocked together. Please, I thought again. Kiss me.
“Then,” she whispered, the tip of her nose grazing mine. “You—”
“Nothing to see here!” A third, much louder, voice called, crashing through the moment like a wrecking ball. “I just needed another cookie.”
Or, more accurately, a nosy best friend with a sweet tooth.
Gigi flew back as if she’d been caught committing unthinkable crimes. “I, uh…” she started, looking around the room wide-eyed, like she forgot where she was. “I should get going. It’s late. You need to get some sleep.”
Disappointment was a cold shower. “I’m all right. I—”
“Thanks for the cookies,” she continued, as if I hadn’t spoken at all. Simon pivoted out of her way as she veered toward the exit. “It was…um, nice to see you.”
“You, too, dear,” Simon called back as Gigi practically ran for the front door.
Once the door shut behind her, Simon faced me, eyes wide. “Well,” he said, hands on hips. “What was that about?”
Staring at the still-swinging kitchen door, I shook my head. My body still buzzed, but my brain spun with whiplash. “I wish I knew,” I said as I reached for a peanut butter cookie. But not even the salty-sweet of my favorite treat could make up for the absence of Gigi’s lips on mine.