10. Parker
10
PARKER
W ell, this was lame.
Out of all the lame things I’d done, this had to rank up there in the top ten.
I’d returned to my old stomping grounds in search of a one-night stand. Or a one- morning stand. Hell, I didn’t care when it happened, just as long as it was soon.
Because if I wanted to see my parents, I was going to have to get my hormones under control before lying back down next to Raina. No way was I going to wake up with my hand on one of my best friend’s women again. That had not been cool.
And I blamed Langston for it entirely.
She’d gotten me riled up and ready to fuck with her flirty little looks and all the provocative shit she’d said.
You’re just jealous that I didn’t crawl on top of you.
Don’t pull too hard; I might like it.
Jesus.
I wasn’t sure how the fuck she’d known that would affect me the way it had—because I sure as hell hadn’t—but she’d definitely found my new weakness.
Union had been right; she had a sixth sense for our hot buttons. And she liked to push them relentlessly until she drove each one of us insane.
And now I was jonesing for sex so badly, it felt as if I wanted to claw my way out of my own damn body for a rough and ready tumble.
So here I was, the creepy graduated old guy, back at HaveU and scouring the campus for someone to help me appease the hunger.
Stationed strategically at a small table for two in the student union cafeteria, I glanced up from my laptop when I glimpsed smoothed, tanned legs walking past in my peripheral vision.
The girl strolling by wore shorts and a tank top, and I admired her legs for a second longer before lifting my gaze enough to make eye contact. From there, my interest fizzled out, but I could tell she was interested. She was attractive too. If I gave her the barest hint of an acknowledgment, I think she’d change course and come over to say hi.
But gah, she looked so young. And I already felt too much like the creepy old fucker at the moment.
Didn’t matter that I’d been a student with them barely four months ago. I suddenly felt…ancient among these clueless kids.
I gave the chick a vague, not-interested, keep-walking narrowing of the eyes. And I really didn’t know why. She’d honestly been a prime candidate. She’d just been too…
Hell, I don’t even know. But she’d been too something for whatever I was craving, even though today was definitely not the day I should get picky. I needed this shit out of my system. ASAP.
Laughter from a table across the way caused me to lift my attention to find all the seats full of more possibilities that seemed completely acceptable for a long, steamy afternoon roll in the sheets. And they were looking this way.
I sighed, however, when not a single one of them stirred me.
“Fucking hell,” I muttered, running a hand over my hair in frustration and returning my attention to my screen as I waited for a list of search results to pop up.
When I found a link to Devon Roark, who worked as a sales rep for a book vendor company, attached to a picture of the dick who’d harassed Hope at the airport, I started to research the vendor.
Regal Library Service was a wholesaler who just happened to be up for sale. I started to dig deeper into the company just as someone approached my table.
“Excuse me?” a female voice asked above me.
When I looked up, I knew she was from the giggling table. Up close, she was even prettier than she’d been from across the room, and she had a set of tits on her that could keep me occupied for hours. But all I felt was irritation that she’d interrupted me just when my research was getting interesting.
“Aren’t you Parker Ohrley?” The girl asked as she leaned down to rest her hands on the table so she could give me a glimpse down the front of her shirt.
I took my time checking out what she offered before lifting my gaze to hers and saying, “Who’s asking?”
My suspicious tone caused her to falter. Straightening, she flushed as she motioned back to her girls. “Oh. My friends and I were just talking. Didn’t you, like, recently fund a new building on campus or something? Over by Business and Marketing.” With a laugh, she twisted a piece of hair around her finger. “Actually, the first time I heard someone say your name, I thought they were saying Parker or Lee, like they didn’t know what to really call you. That H in Ohrley’s really confusing.”
“Yeah, those silent Hs will get you every time,” I said dryly.
She giggled again. “So you must be really rich, huh?”
I internally grimaced and just barely kept from rolling my eyes. If I’d been working on all my cylinders, I would’ve used my money and credentials to cajole my way into her panties. But today, her question just seemed gauche and gold-digging enough to turn my stomach.
“Sorry, darlin’,” I told her with a regretful wince. “You got the wrong guy.” And I lowered my attention back to my computer.
“O…Kay,” she said, sounding confused and rejected. “So you’re not Parker?”
“And I’m not Lee either,” I answered without glancing up.
“Huh.” I heard her huff out a disappointed breath, then turn away and walk off.
And I didn’t even glance up to watch her go.
That’s it. Something was definitely wrong with me. I’d gotten a clear green light, and I hadn’t proceeded full speed ahead.
Maybe I had a brain tumor.
That would explain my sudden interest in Hope.
I tried to convince myself to just stand up and go after the cute co-ed, no matter how much she didn’t rouse me, but then some interesting numbers snagged my attention on the screen, and I got sucked into the whole acquisitions and mergers world.
Half an hour later, I was the new owner of a book wholesaler on the contingency that they fire one Devon Roark first.
Say goodbye to your job, motherfucker.
I was debating on tracking him down on social media and figuring out how to throw a wrench into the gears of his personal life as well when my phone rang.
I snagged it and checked the screen, only to do a double take.
But as soon as I read the name Trouble , my skin prickled with awareness, and the very interest I’d been searching for in every girl that walked by perked to life inside me.
“Fuck,” I muttered and set the phone back down, ignoring the call.
This was not good. Why the hell was Hope the only thing causing the spark today? Surely her sly little glances and suggestive comments hadn’t done that big of a number on me. That was just stupid.
I absolutely refused to be attracted to Younger’s annoying brat of a sister.
When the phone started ringing again, I ground my teeth.
God. She was such a pain in the ass, I swear. She could ruin a guy’s day without even being present.
I glanced around, hoping and praying that I caught sight of someone who piqued my interest and induced even a smidgen of the chemical reaction I needed to pursue them. But there was no one.
“Dammit.”
The phone fell silent, and I released a relieved breath while simultaneously ignoring the niggle of disappointment because the female that my body craved was getting away. My instincts wanted to pursue her. Stupid body. Why did it always want what was the absolute worst thing for it?
Digging my flask from my laptop bag, I unscrewed the cap and took a big swig, hissing at the welcome burn it brought.
There. Better. Shaking my head to clear it, I tucked the alcohol away and decided to drop my assault on Roark for the time being—because the bastard made me think of Hope—and I called my manager at the restaurant to check in.
Our numbers were looking good. Real good. After only four months of being open, V-Eleven was doing well enough that I foresaw making a profit by the nine-month mark. All my research told me I shouldn’t expect one before the first year, and most places didn’t get in the black for three to five years, if ever. So this was good. This was very good.
Plus, stellar local reviews had already attracted the attention of some bigger-name food critics who’d put us on their list to try out.
If fortune kept up, I might have to open a few more restaurants.
After getting all the updates from the manager, I remembered Oaklynn’s complaints from the night before, and said, “Oh. I have a few names I want to add to my VIP list. I don’t want them to ever wait for reservations, okay?”
“Yes, sir,” my manager answered. “Who would you like added?”
Skipping Hudson since he was an employee, and I didn’t want him to get any kind of preferential treatment in the kitchen—or bullied—for being associated with me, I started naming my crew. “Let’s start with Thane, Chauncy, and Ezekiel Eisner. Then, Sharon and Bill Porter, Damien Archer, Oaklynn Vargas, Foster Union, Raina Bollen, Faith Woods, Keene Dugger, Alec Younger, and…” After a slight hesitation, I winced and muttered, “Hope Langston. Plus, I want any bill they accrue put on my tab.”
“Very good, sir,” I was told. “I’ll get these added to your VIP list posthaste.”
I grunted out my thanks and started to chew on my thumbnail, wondering why I’d put Hope on there. I hadn’t even added Thane’s girlfriend, and he was my best fucking friend on the planet.
Of course, I hadn’t met his girlfriend yet, but still… She probably should’ve ranked above Hope.
Whatever. It was done now.
I ended the call a few minutes later and glanced around the cafeteria, hoping someone—anyone—would just spark my damn attention already. But there appeared to be incredibly slim pickings today.
The phone started to ring again. I checked the caller ID and grew a semi right there in the middle of the cafeteria.
Fuck.
Losing it, I snagged the receiver and punched the accept button viciously so I could snarl, “Oh my God, what ?”
“Hey, Grumpy,” she greeted in a cheerful voice that made the hair prickle on the back of my neck. “Whatcha doing?”
“Trying to avoid you ,” I growled.
“Well, better luck next time.”
“Did you seriously have to call three times in a row like that? It’s fucking annoying.”
“Well, if you had answered on the first ring,” Hope countered practically. “I would’ve only called once.”
“What do you want?”
She paused briefly before evasively asking, “Where are you?”
I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “Why?”
“Because I have a request. And do you realize you haven’t asked for your car back yet?”
Gritting my teeth, I ground out, “If I tell you to just keep it, will you leave me alone?”
“No,” she answered without hesitation. “But I will keep it. Thanks.”
“Great,” I grumbled. “Good talk. Bye now.”
“Wait!” she cried. “You didn’t tell me where you were.”
“You already asked your question,” I reminded her.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes,” I bit out irritably. “You asked about the car.”
“That wasn’t my original request, though. This question has to be asked in person, trust me.”
“Why?”
“Because it just does,” she snarled, sounding about as irritated with me as I felt with her.
“And if I’m not in the mood for your presence?” I taunted.
She groaned. “Oh my God. Then I’ll ask again tomorrow where you are. And the next day. And the day after that. I’ll just keep asking until you finally tell me. Over and over again for infinity without end, until?—”
“Jesus,” I groaned. “I’m in the cafeteria at the HaveU Student Union.”
She paused before sniffing. “What the hell are you doing there? Is the food just that good that you had to keep going back…even after graduation? Or were you trolling for women?”
It really grated on my nerves that she knew me so well.
Glancing at a gorgeous girl strolling by, I slumped lower in my seat because she did nothing for me.
“None of your fucking business,” I told Hope.
“Wow, you’re such a sweetheart. But seriously, are you with any of the guys right now? Is Alec there?”
“No. I’m alone. Why?”
“Great. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right there.”
“Don’t bother,” I warned her, wondering why she didn’t want the others around for this mysterious request. “I’m sure I’ll be gone by the time you get here.”
She laughed, and it was such a husky, sexy sound that my gut twisted into knots. “No, you won’t,” she told me. “Because I promise you, Grumpy, you’re going to want to hear this.”
My mind immediately went to sex, and my pecker went harder in my pants.
Before I could ask anything else, though, she hung up on me.
Dammit. I really wanted to pack up and take off. But the beguiling brat was right; I was too curious to hear what she just had to ask me in person.
Tension stretched across my shoulders as I remained rooted in my chair.
This was such a bad idea.
And yet I stayed, anyway.