5. Parker
5
Dear Journal—
Dear Diary?—
Dear We Still Need To Work On That?—
I have no idea what’s going on with my life right now. I’m starting to suspect I’m trapped in a made-for-TV movie of some sort, even though I’m not sure what my role is supposed to be. There’s just been so much happening lately. First, the fire. Then, the invitation to stay at Nicholas’ house. And now, we’re in a post blowjob scenario that I have no idea how to navigate???
I don’t even know if I’m his type! For all I know, I’m just the closest thing in proximity. Still, hooking up with Nicholas does seem like fun, even if that’s all it ever is. Besides, I’m supposed to be on vacation anyway, right? And hooking up with a hot guy is definitely something people do while they’re in vacation mode…
You know what they say… when in Rome…
I set my journal down on the bedside table and let out a loud sigh. It was true that I had no idea how to navigate what was going on with me and Nicholas, much less find a way to put it down in words. I’d gone from being frustrated by him to utterly fascinated by him, the way his possessiveness and jealousy rolled off him in a wave of heat, the way he touched me like I somehow belonged to him.
I’d never been touched like that before.
Fuck.
I wanted him to touch me like that again. I wanted him to control me like that again.
But I had no idea if it was just supposed to be a one-time thing.
“Nope. I am not going to spend my vacation pining after a guy,” I mumbled to myself, getting out of bed. “I might be trapped in some kind of movie-of-the-week, but I know I’m not the person who gets all weird and obsessed with the main character.”
I smoothed down my clothes as I made my way down the hall. Nicholas still wasn’t back from wherever he’d gone, which I assumed was into the office to put out a fire or two.
Literally.
I chuckled at my own joke as I headed into the kitchen. It was still dark outside, something I shrugged at as I pulled open the fridge and grabbed a few items to make a sandwich. I’d woken up starving, maybe because I’d done a lot of drinking but not a lot of eating at the honky-tonk…
Not that there was much to eat there, anyway. It wasn’t like the place was known for its cuisine.
I finished putting together my sandwich and sat at the kitchen island, quietly taking bites as thoughts of Nicholas ran through my head. I just had no idea where to start with him, like someone had gifted me a jigsaw puzzle but all the pieces were the exact same color. I’d never thought in a million years that he would’ve kissed me, and I never thought in a million years that I would’ve been on my knees in a honky-tonk bathroom.
Life was full of surprises. Maybe too full.
When I was done with my late night or potentially early morning meal, my mind still a little groggy with sleep, a thought suddenly popped into my head.
If Nicholas was a puzzle that I wanted to solve…
I just needed to find the right pieces.
What kind of fish was that?
I was staring at a photo of Nicholas holding onto a large fish, his face brimming with pride. He looked so happy he was about to explode, his hands wrapped underneath the fish like it was an early Christmas present he had no intention of ever letting go of. Unfortunately for me, I knew just enough about fish to still not know enough about fish, even though the background of the photo looked familiar. It was a fishing area closer to my neck of the woods, the realization sending a small thrill down the back of my neck as I wondered if we could’ve run into each other back then, if there was a chance I was just off-camera in my own little world.
I moved on to the next photo Nicholas kept in what seemed like his home office space, complete with a desk and a few inoffensive lamps. Although, I wasn’t able to figure out why a firefighter needed a home office, unless there was a lot more paperwork involved in fighting fires than I initially realized. It was one of those professions that only sort of existed in the periphery of my imagination, only really materializing when something was actually on fire.
The same way I never really thought about doctors until I was at a hospital.
The same way I never really thought about high-flying trapeze artists until I was watching them in a show.
“What the hell? Is that rugby?” I murmured to myself as I pulled the framed photo into my grip, confused by what I was looking at. “Nicholas played rugby?”
I wasn’t surprised by him having an athletic past, it was the method of expressing his athleticism that shocked me. I didn’t know of many Americans who played rugby in general, but it looked like it was a special league, maybe even European judging by the French titles written across the uniforms. It was another piece of the Nicholas puzzle, one that was only becoming more mysterious despite all of my snooping?—
My attention was suddenly interrupted by spotting a photo of Nicholas with his arm around a man who looked like he’d walked right off a runway. I put down the rugby photo and picked a new one up, scrutinizing every detail of the picture.
They looked happy.
And for some reason, that same happiness caused something to twist inside my stomach, like I was somewhere I didn’t belong, like I’d stumbled onto something I never had any business touching in the first place?—
“Shit!” The photo slipped out of my hands at the sound of a motorcycle rushing through the neighborhood, my fingers pulling away from it and toward my own chest. Thankfully, the photo landed on the desk, popping out of its frame, without any damage to it. A few seconds later and curiosity got the better of me, as I turned the photo over in my palm, wondering if there were any clues about the man in the photo, if there was another piece of the puzzle just waiting to be found.
“To my brother from another mother—always my best man—T.J.”
Always my best man?
I turned the photo over again, this time with the smiling faces directed my way?—
And I realized that in my half-awake, half-asleep state I’d somehow missed that both Nicholas and his friend were clearly dressed for a wedding.
T.J.’s wedding.
Embarrassed, I felt my cheeks heat red as I slipped the photo back into its frame, soon exiting Nicholas’ home office, entirely. I closed the door behind me, hoping that Nicholas wouldn’t figure out that I’d ever been in the room, wanting to keep my unauthorized discoveries all to myself. Besides, I’d only chosen his home office for snooping reasons since it seemed like the only room in his house that had any sense of personality, any sense of who Nicholas actually was.
Everything else was so… pristine. Almost sterile. Like he was staging it as a rental property, something he was considering selling off sooner or later. I couldn’t tell if it was a side effect of a tidy bachelor or just a side effect of the way he liked to live, mostly keeping to himself, staying away from town as much as he was able to.
I groaned as I headed back to Nicholas’ bedroom, my body torn between aching for sleep and aching for a source of caffeine to wake me up for the morning. I groaned again as I noticed the sun starting to rise from Nicholas’ window, a telltale sign that I’d run out of hours to spend in bed. Full of not-sleeping-enough regrets, I pulled out my toothbrush and some fresh clothes before I stumbled toward the master bathroom.
A few moments later and I was standing underneath a pleasant stream, the shower jets overhead massaging my tired frame in perfect rhythm. Despite the warmth of the steam clouding around me like a warm welcome, I wasn’t able to fully relax into any of it, my mind still racing with the few fragmented pieces of Nicholas Cooper I’d been able to grasp, a jigsaw puzzle still missing the kind of variation that would’ve helped me start putting any of it together.
All I had was a big fish, a snapshot of rugby, and photographic evidence that Nicholas had been to a wedding at least once in his life.
Which meant that all I had was nothing.
Maybe he was just unknowable. It was what I told myself as I started to wash, flashes of Nicholas’ smile sticking to the back of my eyelids with my every move. Maybe Nicholas was better off as a mystery, the guy I hooked up with on vacation but didn’t know a thing about outside of his profession and what his house looked like. Hell, I didn’t even know how Nicholas would’ve responded to my snooping, if he was the type to easily let it go or would’ve dragged it out into a whole argument…
The kind that could’ve only been stopped with an apology…
An apology that would’ve come in the form of my mouth on his cock…
Before I knew it, my hand had drifted down to my shaft, stroking it gently.
Fuck.
Apparently, my body was just as obsessed with Nicholas as my mind, my cock rising as I imagined being on my knees for him, all over again, this time on the floor of his bedroom. He was standing over me, relentless, consumed with control, before he bent down toward me, getting close enough to slide his fingers between my lips…
He then pumped his fingers in and out of my mouth, moving them in sync as if they were his perfect cock…
“Nicholas… Nicholas…” I groaned as I shamelessly pumped my shaft, my hand moving up and down the length of it. “Fuck…”
“Did you need something, Parker?”
No.
Nope.
No fucking way.
I opened my eyes to see through the steam, my hand moving away from my cock like it was made out of pure lava. My breaths were coming shallow and quick, half aroused, half terrified, unsure if my imagination was just playing tricks on me or if somehow, I’d conjured up Nicholas on the spot.
Oh, my God.
There he was.
He was standing a few inches away from me, on the dry side of the shower. He smelled like smoke, almost like he’d been bathing in it, the element seeming so woodsy and natural as it emanated from his skin.
Of course, smoke smelled good on him.
Nicholas wasn’t saying anything now as he stared at me, taking in my naked frame with a hungry gaze. It reminded me of our bathroom encounter, an imbalance between us that made me crave him even more, my nakedness in contrast to him being fully clothed, my assumed submission in contrast to him taking control as soon as he walked into the room.
“I wasn’t—I didn’t need anything—” I awkwardly started the conversation, unable to even look him right in the eye. I knew he must’ve heard me calling out for him, my broken cries probably echoing throughout the whole house.
“Are you saying you don’t want me?” Nicholas asked, one of his palms cupping the side of my face, forcing us to make eye contact. “That you were calling out for me for no reason?”
“I wasn’t?—”
“Don’t. Don’t do that.” Nicholas shook his head. “Just tell me the truth, Parker.”
He took a step closer to me, still divided by the shower itself. “Do. You. Want. Me?”
“Yes… I want you,” I admitted, my voice low. “I… I want you, Nicholas?—”
“Then, that’s all you had to say.”