Chapter Twelve
Audrey
I t took the better part of the day for the water to recede enough that Sebastian thought it was safe to drive the Bronco. However, the Audi isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
Anson and Heather hang back while Parker and I accompany Sebastian and Avie to their house, where Parker left his truck last night.
The ride is awkward—mostly because it’s not awkward at all.
The three of them act as if we always frolic around the island together. Yes, I know them. In the same way, I know all my regular customers, but until last night, I wouldn’t have considered them friends.
I knew Parker a little more intimately, but that seems like a lifetime ago.
Yet Sebastian and Parker are discussing a barbeque at Sebastian’s brother’s home on Sunday, and Avie casually invites me to come along.
“I wouldn’t want to impose,” I say, trying to decline politely.
She waves me off. “Oh, please. Amiya would love for you to come. It’s the more, the merrier with her. And since they moved into the new house, she’s turned into Suzy Homemaker.”
Sebastian and Parker burst out laughing.
“What? She has. Every time I turn around, she’s planning a barbeque or girls’ night. She even offered to host Eden’s baby shower,” Avie says.
“Excuse to get together and drink, excuse to get together and drink, and excuse to get together and drink,” Sebastian says, making a checkmark in the air after each one.
“Yes, at her house,” Avie stresses. Then, she turns around to look at me. “You’ll come, right? Heather, too.”
“It sounds lovely, but we’ll be at the bar,” I say.
Parker gives me a look. “You don’t work Sundays.”
“I don’t work all of them, but I do some,” I retort.
“You’re listed off on the schedule you sent yesterday,” he says.
I narrow my eyes at him and the bastard smiles.
“See, you should come,” Avie insists.
“I’ll try.”
The lie seems to pacify her because she smiles and turns back around.
Parker leans over and whispers in my ear, “Don’t worry. I won’t be there because I will be at the bar, so you’ll be safe.”
I tilt my head to glare at him, and we talk nose to nose.
“Are you implying I’m not safe when you’re around?”
His eyes fall to my lips and back to mine. “From me? Yes. From yourself?” He doesn’t finish the thought. He just grins and sits back against the seat.
Insufferable ass.
This entire situation is unnerving. In my element, in my bar, I’m completely in control, and Parker Alston can’t penetrate my defense, but last night—in his home, with his friends, and sleeping in his bed—I felt different. Even now, in the back of his best friend’s vehicle, chatting like it’s normal is maddening.
I like Avie and Sebastian. I like how close their group of found family is.
I envy it. And that’s not me. I’m not some sappy chick who walks around with fear of missing out. I have a small circle—minuscule, if I’m being honest. I don’t need many people. I have Brew, my parents, and Heather, and that’s always been enough.
The last thing I need is to start wanting more.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Parker asks.
We made it to Sebastian and Avie’s house, and Parker helped Sebastian remove a tree that had fallen during the storm and blocked his grandparents’ driveway. I accompanied Avie to retrieve Leia, and we sat out on Sabel Hollister’s back porch, drinking fresh-squeezed lemonade and eating finger sandwiches. Then, Leia insisted I come in to see her room before Parker and I left, and I ended up sitting on her bed with Avie and a glass of rosé while the adorable little girl gave us a preview of the dance routine her class would be performing at their fall recital.
Now, we’re in his truck, heading back to his condo to pick up Heather so he can give us a ride home.
“Nothing,” I say.
His eyes flit to me and then back to the road. “Oh, come on, Audi. I can practically hear your thoughts screaming at you from here.”
I let out a frustrated breath. “You cannot.”
He reaches over and covers the hand that has been tapping incessantly against my leg, stilling it. Then, he wraps his fingers around mine and brings my hand to his mouth.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
I gasp as he gently turns my hand over so his lips feather over the pulse point on my wrist.
“Relax,” he murmurs against my skin.
It’s something he used to do whenever I was anxious or scared.
I tug my hand loose from his grip.
“Stop it,” I say as I scoot as close to the door as possible.
“You used to like that. It would calm you.”
“I don’t like it anymore, and I don’t like you,” I bite out.
“That’s a shame because I never stopped—”
My head snaps to him. “Don’t. Don’t you dare say you never stopped loving me.”
“Okay, I won’t say it.”
“Fuck you, Parker. You left. You left, and you never looked back,” I hiss, anger overriding my nerves.
“I never looked forward,” he states.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
His eyes slide to me, and I notice the sadness behind them.
“Exactly what it sounds like.”
“Well, I did. I had no choice but to move forward, and I have no desire to backtrack or reminisce.”
“Fine,” he says.
“Fine?”
“Yep. Fine. I’ll be out of your hair in December.”
“But …” I know there is one. I feel it in my gut.
“But, until then, we call a truce. You’re right; I don’t know you anymore, but I want to.”
“We can’t be friends, Parker.”
“We can for the next three months.”
“What would that look like, huh? Are we going to sit around and braid each other’s hair while we talk about boys?” I question.
He shrugs. “What do you do with your other friends?”
“I do nothing but work and sleep. Occasionally, I manage to go for a run and grab coffee with Heather, and on rare occasions, I have a night of turtle nest watching.”
“How about we start with coffee? I haven’t run in a long time, and I can think of much more pleasurable ways to get cardio in.”
“See, there you go. Friends don’t talk to each other like that,” I snap.
“You’re right. Sorry. I’ll try to keep the flirting to a minimum.”
“How about you don’t do it at all,” I suggest.
“I’ll try, but it’s hard to behave around you,” he says.
“Try hard.”
He slides his eyes to me. “Okay, I will. Does that mean you’re in?”
“And after three months, you’ll go away?”
“You’ll never have to look at me again.”
I scoff. “Right. You’ll still be in the bar, trying to get under my skin every chance you get.”
“No, I won’t.”
“You’re serious?”
“If you still feel the same on my last day of work, I’ll never step foot in Whiskey Joe’s again. You have my word.”
“Friends?”
“Friends,” he agrees. “For now.”
“No, friends only, Parker. There will be no cardio happening between the two of us.”
“Whatever you say, Tiger.”
Grrr.
“Fine. Deal.”
He’ll see that I’m not the same girl I was back then and finally give up.
He looks over at me, and his face lights up in triumph. He doesn’t plan to make this easy.
Neither do I.