Chapter 4 Parker #2
“Hang on, that’s not even the best part. You’re not playing a long game for her at all. You have a thing for Summer, and you don’t even know you have a thing for Summer.” Noah snorts, and this conspiracy is apparently worthy of a deep-belly laugh they can probably hear in the next state.
But he’s only embarrassing himself with all this, because I absolutely, unequivocally, categorically do not have a thing for Summer Prescott.
Seeing as I’ve had her in my life for the last twenty-seven years, I’d like to think I would’ve noticed if I was in love with her.
But I’ve never felt it once. The big punch in the gut you hear people talk about when they fall in love.
That one, life-altering moment you can point to without a shred of doubt.
When your world shifts from underneath you, leaving you all hot and jumbled and incapable of stringing together words. Twenty-seven years and none of that.
My words never have any trouble coming out with Summer. She’s my favorite person to talk to.
I’m with her and the ground feels steadier than ever. Not a hint of a tremor.
There’s no punch in the gut when she’s around—exactly the opposite. She makes the inside of my head, lately so loud and mean, sound like a serene summer evening at the lake. Sunset, warm breeze, water gently lapping up the shore. Loons singing in the background.
A whistle draws our attention to find her approaching our bench. “Cool it with the pumping, Irving. You’re about to bust out of that T-shirt.”
“Think she just gave you permission to dial down the torture.” Noah blows a kiss at Summer, getting to his feet. “And on that note, I’ll leave you two to… I don’t know. Ignore reality?”
“Ignore which reality?” She looks back and forth between us.
“Ignore him altogether.”
She takes Noah’s spot beside me, unclasping her hand to show me a miniature paper plane folded from a bright pink sticky note I left on her desk.
The same kind I used to send flying at her from across our high school classrooms, passing her notes without our teachers seeing.
This one is half opened, with my messy scrawl inside it.
“Thanks for the donut.” With a smile, Summer tucks the note in her pocket. Then she drops her voice, giving a shifty glance around the gym. “Much better than those muffins Kendra was circulating this morning. Which, by the way…”
She leans in closer, and my thoughts are promptly derailed by the floral scent drifting off her skin. I’ve never smelled this one on her—it’s sweet, floral, somehow a little musky.
It hits me right in the common sense, knocking it over, and for a moment I’m gripped by the urge to run my lips along the side of her neck.
Douse myself in that scent and the satisfactory way she might shiver at the touch.
If scents were tangible, this one would be the satisfied cuddle after a marathon fuck. Pure, hedonistic bliss.
I blink through the feeling. “Did you get a new perfume?”
Summer nudges me. I realize she’s been speaking for an unknown number of minutes. “Focus, Park. I’m telling you, something weird is going on here.”
“About…” I clear my throat when the word comes out grainy. “About the perfume?”
“With Kendra and Don,” she hisses, eyes darting across the gym. Squinting through the mild fuzziness in my vision, I find Don, our boss, chatting with Kendra, another trainer. “You know those muffins she was handing out? I found an entire container of them on Don’s desk.”
“Muffins?” I shake myself mentally, try to focus on her words and their implication, but that perfume is ruthless.
All my brain seems capable of at the moment is picturing the two of us.
Naked. Sweaty. Her cheek on my chest, lashes grazing my skin as she drifts to sleep, exhausted from coming over and over, and— “What… what’s in this perfume, exactly? Which flower is that?”
“Why? Is it bad?” She lifts her shirt to her nose and inhales deeply. “I’m trying something different for our dates tonight.”
Something niggles at me as I fight her perfume for sanity. “Dates?”
“Our blind dates!”
And my stomach just leaves my body.
Summer beams at me. “Parker, I’m so excited. I really think you’re going to love her. I spent all week scouring town for the perfect person for you. You’ve got so much in common, and…”
The rest of her words are drowned out by a ringing in my ears, and the panic quickly raising my body temperature. Because I forgot.
Between my impromptu tenants and the brain fog that I’ve barely been able to keep at bay… I fucking forgot. Our blind dates, tonight at Oakley’s. I find her a guy, she finds me a girl.
And I don’t have anyone for Summer. I’m going to have to reschedule—
“Just wait until you see the dress I’m wearing tonight.
Or, wait until he sees the dress I’m wearing tonight.
I bought it specially.” Summer bounces happily and I wipe the rapidly growing panic off my face.
“I woke up this morning with such a good feeling. I mean, you know me better than anyone! If someone’s going to lead me to the love of my life, it’ll definitely be you. I can’t wait to meet him!”
I open my mouth to say something.
To confess. To apologize. To ask for more time. But Summer continues chattering excitedly and I can’t do it. I can’t disappoint her like that.
I need to fix this. Now.