Chapter 8
Lara
The moment I knew Parker and I had developed a genuine, deep friendship was the first night we spent together.
And I don’t mean spent as in wham bam thank you ma’am, screaming orgasms, and strawberries and whipped cream.
Though I wouldn’t have said no to any of those things—let’s be honest. No, I mean spent the night as in we were in the same bed together and I felt his body close to mine.
(It was heaven and hell at the same time.)
It was a couple of nights ago. We’d gone out to dinner because that’s what we do now, we go to dinner weekly to catch up.
Don’t ask! It sounds better than it is. It’s great being around him, but it sucks because nothing ever happens.
He doesn’t try and kiss me. He doesn’t try and take my hand.
He doesn’t try and do anything. And of course, I don’t, either.
I mean, I’ve thought about it. I’ve dreamed about grabbing him and kissing him and sucking his tongue and putting my hands through his hair, but my nerves and fear of rejection have stopped me.
Being rejected sucks, but being rejected by your new quasi–best friend would suck even more.
But I digress; back to that night.
We’d gone out to dinner and had a few drinks and Parker asked if I wanted to go back to his place to watch a movie.
Of course, I said yes. And of course, I was hoping that “watch a movie” was some sort of code word for fucking my brains out.
I know, I know, I’m getting crude, but you can only be around a sexy man for so long without starting to feel like you’re going to go out of your mind.
But alas, alack, watching a movie meant just that.
We watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
Yes, you read that correctly. He let me choose the movie.
I’m not sure why he let me pick and I’m not sure why I chose that one, but I did.
A friend of mine had told me it was a good movie, so I decided, hey, why not watch it now?
Not the best decision I’ve ever made. It’s a great movie, but emotional.
Full of angst and love and hate and anger and pain and soulmatey stuff that I didn’t need to be watching with Parker.
And of course, I started crying. I started crying for the characters and I started crying for myself.
I wanted someone to love me enough, to be so caught up in me that he would want to erase me from his mind to stop the pain.
I mean, who wouldn’t want to be loved that much?
I mean, I know it’s not healthy. I know my views are skewed.
I know I have some issues, but don’t we all?
There was this one scene where one of the characters said something like “I’m erasing you, and I’m happy,” and it made me burst into tears right away because I’d just been having thoughts about wanting to erase Parker from my mind that morning.
Parker’s face had looked at me in shock and I could see that I was making him uncomfortable.
“You okay?” he asked me with a worried expression. I started crying even more then because he’d been so genuine and caring. Not teasing at all, but truly worried. Truly searching in my eyes to see if I was okay.
“Yeah.” I nodded and gulped. “It’s just a sad movie.”
“It’s just a movie, though, Lara.” He put his arm around me awkwardly and pulled me into his arms so that I could rest my head against his chest.
“I know,” I said and closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his chest against the side of my face. His body was so warm and comforting and it made me feel wonderful. “It’s just hard to see people who are so in love fall apart from each other.”
“Yeah, that’s love, I suppose,” Parker said softly. “Love is a temporary emotion. And so when people invest everything they have into something that is temporary, of course it will be devastating when it flees.”
“You think love is temporary?” I said, my heart stilling as I listened to him. I could feel his hands rubbing my back.
“I don’t think that true love is real and I don’t think that any emotion lasts forever,” he said simply, and I swore I felt his lips on the top of my head, though I could have been imagining it.
“I like to think there are true loves that last forever,” I said, looking up at him. “That there is someone perfect made for us.”
“That’s why you’re awesome,” he said and grinned down at me. “And I’m sure that one day, you will find someone who will love you forever and ever.”
“Thank you,” I said, trying not to let the sadness sweep over me again. I couldn’t allow him to keep dictating my moods. And I just needed to appreciate the fact that we were getting closer and we were getting to be better friends.
“Wanna watch the rest of the movie in bed?” he asked me questioningly. “No funny business, I promise, but it might be more comfortable.”
“Hmm, let me think,” I said with a smile, my heart racing as I gazed up at him.
I could feel his palms on my waist and I could feel his body moving back and forth against mine as he breathed.
This was the closest we’d been for the longest amount of time and I was enjoying it.
Even if it wasn’t romantic or sexual. It was close.
And I was craving being close to him. In fact, this was one of the best feelings I’d ever felt in my life.
“I have popcorn.” He laughed. “And wine. And we can watch another movie. Or we can talk.”
“Talk?” I laughed. “Talk about what?”
“Whatever you want.” He made a face. “I know you girls like to talk.”
“And you guys don’t?” I grinned at him, wiping the tears from my eyes, feeling light all of a sudden.
“Oh, we talk, but not about the same crap you girls talk about.” He grinned at me. “We talk about sports, beer, work, movies—and you girls talk about feelings and all that crap. You’d better believe Ryker and I don’t talk about that shit.”
“But you’re willing to talk about that with me? Aww, aren’t I lucky?”
“Well, I want to be a good friend.” He looked at me sincerely. “I’ll try my best.”
“Thanks, Parker,” I said and then nodded. “Sure. Let’s move to the bedroom, though I get to choose which side of the bed I want.”
“Of course, my dear,” he said and grabbed my hand as we jumped off the couch.
We settled into his bed a few minutes later, laden with popcorn, potato chips, wine, beer, and some chocolate, and settled into watching the movie, sitting side by side and leaning back against the wall.
And when the movie was done, we lay down and stared at each other and just talked and talked.
We talked about everything: Kant’s philosophies, our views on Israel and Palestine, his favorite football team, politics, my favorite movies.
We talked about our favorite books, and at the end of the night as we both started getting sleepy and our eyes were drooping, he leaned forward and gave me a firm kiss on the lips and whispered, “You’re fast becoming one of my favorite people, Lara, one of my absolute favorites.
” And I closed my eyes then and smiled to myself.
I drifted off to sleep the happiest I’d been in months.
That was when I knew that I’d wormed my way into Parker’s heart in some way.
Even if it wasn’t exactly in the way I’d hoped for.
I’m going to give you some advice. Don’t play games with guys.
Even if you don’t think you’re playing a game, think about what you’re doing very carefully—very, very carefully.
Guys aren’t like girls. They don’t analyze.
They certainly don’t overanalyze and they take what we say and think that’s exactly what we mean.
Even if the dumbest pig in Siberia would know we were being ironic or sarcastic, a man would take us at our word.
Like Parker. He took me at my word when I told him I thought we should be best friends.
I knew and Mila knew and anyone with half a brain knew that I meant best friends that were also in love, but no—not Parker.
He took my words literally. He really thought I wanted to be best friends and everything else that went along with that.
And now? Well, now, here I am, surrounded by the man of my dreams day and night and hating my life.
All because I decided to tell a porky pie to get closer to him.
That’s all I wanted. Just to spend time with him.
I just wanted him to get to know me better.
I wanted him to fall in love with me. I wanted him to see how perfect I was for him.
But no, that’s not what happened. Sure, he thinks I’m “awesome” and we’re closer now than we’ve ever been, but not in the way I want.
Not in the way that makes my heart thud.
My heart does thud still. But generally in a sad way now.
And I cry myself to sleep many nights because I realize I’m further away from him than I’ve ever been.
Now that we’re better friends, I realize that: One, I’m not his type.
Two, we don’t have much in common. And three, he hasn’t—as I’d secretly hoped—been harboring a secret crush on me for years. At least I don’t think he has.