49. You Love Me
YOU LOVE ME
ANDERS
The sliding door slams shut as Emelie slips outside with her finger pointed menacingly at Parker. “What did I tell you?”
“Em—”
She storms up to us. “You make him cry and you’re dead.”
“He didn’t make me cry,” I mutter in a rough voice. I don’t dare let go of Parker, though. I hold onto him like he’s the only thing tethering me to the ground.
My fingers bunch in the back of his shirt as I turn my head toward her. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”
Emelie’s expression softens for half a second when she looks at me. Then it hardens again the second her eyes land on Parker. “I think you should go inside, mon lutin,” Emelie tells me, soft but still assertive. She never uses her serious voice with me. “Your brother and I will have a talk with—”
“No,” I shake my head.
“Anders.”
“No.”
Em huffs, her jaw tightening. “You’re making this harder—”
“I’m not leaving him.” The words are out before I can stop them.
Parker goes completely still behind me. Emelie closes her eyes, looking exhausted for a second. There’s no anger there, but there’s still something complicated. When she opens them again, she’s looking at me instead of Parker. “Mon lutin.”
I immediately look away. She’s giving me the voice. The one that always works on me. “You don’t have to protect him,” she tells me.
My throat tightens. I hate that she can still read me so easily. “Maman.”
The word stops her cold like it always does.
Her expression crumples for the briefest second before she recovers.
The evening breeze pushes a few loose strands of golden blonde hair across her face.
“Okay,” she concedes. She brushes her hair away, tucking it behind her ear.
“Okay.” She flicks her eyes to Parker, her expression hardening.
“I don’t have much to say to you,” she tells him.
Her French accent thickens around the words the way it always does when she’s upset.
“That’s fair,” Parker murmurs, swallowing hard.
“No.” She shakes her head. “It isn’t.”
The lake water laps softly against the dock. Behind her, Luca hasn’t moved. He’s still standing exactly where I left him. Still watching us.
“I think you should’ve told us sooner.”
Parker nods once. “I know.”
“I think you should’ve told Luca first.”
“I know.”
“And I think you’ve made this infinitely harder than it needed to be.”
“I know, Em.”
I think the fact that Parker isn’t trying to argue genuinely catches her off guard. Her shoulders loosen slightly. “And don’t mistake this for approval.”
“I’m not.”
“The only reason I’m not screaming at you right now is because my brother loves you.”
My grip tightens. Emelie notices immediately, as per usual. For a moment nobody says anything. Finally Parker speaks. His voice is so quiet I almost don’t hear it.
“He is my whole heart.”
Something flickers across Emelie’s face. It’s sadness, but there’s something else. It’s like she can see the truth. She acknowledges our love. And that’s what makes all of this so difficult. She nods once, then turns and walks past us toward the dock where Luca is waiting.
With the way the house is set up, my family and Jen’s family get their own floors where the bedrooms are concerned.
Because she has two more kids than my brother does, Jen and Vince keep their clan of gingers down in the basement.
My family takes the bedrooms upstairs, which is usually where mine is, too.
When Parker and I first got here this morning, I followed him into the ground-floor master where he’s always stayed.
I think it’s the best room in the house.
The bedroom itself is cozy, tucked away from the insanity of the rest of the house.
The bathroom has a massive jacuzzi tub and an even bigger walk-in shower with five separate shower heads.
Then there’s the private deck. A comfortable outdoor couch.
A small fire pit. A hot tub that overlooks the lake.
Moonlight dances across the surface of Lake Tahoe, turning the water silver wherever it catches the light.
Hundreds of glowing fireflies drift lazily through the air around us.
The warm buzz of cicadas fills the world beyond the deck while the cool evening breeze slowly chases away the lingering heat from the day.
I lean over the edge of the hot tub and watch the lake stretch into the darkness. Every passing boat leaves ripples behind that travel all the way to shore before disappearing again.
Parker sits beside me with his back to the lake.
A small television mounted near the hot tub plays quietly in the background.
The announcer’s voice is muffled enough that I can’t make out what’s being said, but I have a feeling it’s something sports-related.
I haven’t paid attention to a single word.
Most of the night, we’ve sat in comfortable silence. Not always touching, but always close together like we’re afraid of being apart. Truthfully, I wish I could velcro myself to him after the huge argument with Luca earlier.
“Can I hold you?” Parker murmurs. His lips brush my shoulder.
Something warm unfurls inside my chest. I finally drag my gaze away from the water and look at him. The hot water sloshes around us as I climb into his lap. Parker immediately wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his chest until he’s practically cradling my entire body.
One arm loops around his neck while my fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck. My other hand brushes across his cheek. His stubble scratches pleasantly against my skin.
“Scratchy,” I mouth.
“Do you want me to shave?” he asks. He kisses the tip of my nose before letting his lips linger against my forehead. “I will if you want me to. Keep the beard off.”
“No.” I shake my head. The corner of my mouth pulls into a smirk. “I miss the way your beard feels when you eat me out.”
Parker snorts. “You’re so cute.”
“Mm.” I sink further into him.
His chest vibrates beneath my cheek when he laughs, but the sound fades quickly. His fingers drift up and down my back. “I overheard you guys talking.”
I immediately sigh. “Nosy, nosy.”
Parker lets out a breath. “Anders, I—”
“Shhh.” I press my lips against his shoulder. “You don’t need to say anything.”
“I wasn’t…” He pauses. “Waiting for you.” The words come carefully, like he’s choosing each one before he says it.
“But…I don’t know.” He sighs. “I think the moment you first kissed me…” His arms tighten around me.
“I think that’s when I started seeing you as something more than somebody I needed to take care of. ”
My chest tightens, just from the brutal honesty. “Okay.” I lift my head enough to look at him. The moonlight catches the blue of his eyes. “I think that’s something Luca can live with.”
Parker doesn’t look convinced.
“He just needs to get it out of his head that he failed me or whatever.”
His thumb brushes beneath my eye. “You do know this problem goes deeper than you and me.”
“I know.”
Because this isn’t really about Parker. It’s about the fact that my brother and I have never known how to navigate difficult things without eventually turning against each other.
Brothers fight. Luca and I definitely fight. He calls me a dumbass when I do stupid shit. I laugh when Emelie chews him out for something.
But not every brother spent six months sitting inside a courtroom trying to get custody of a kid he’d only met a handful of times. Not every brother became a parent before he ever got the chance to just be a brother.
That’s where things get complicated. Luca has never seen me as his brother first. He became the person responsible for me, and I understand why.
It was traumatic for him. Sometimes I think it was more traumatic for him than it was for me because he remembers everything.
I remember almost nothing. The social workers. The court dates. The lawyers.
When you spend years protecting someone, eventually you start confusing protection with control. Luca never meant to suffocate me. He just spent so much of his life terrified something would happen that he never really learned how to let go.
Even when he was on the other side of the country playing hockey, he still found ways to keep an eye on me. Most people would call it nurturing. I called it suffocating. He dipped his hand into every aspect of my life and convinced himself it was just what older brothers did.
“As soon as we get things sorted about you and me—”
“Anders.” Parker’s tone immediately turns serious. “We’re fine, sweetheart.”
I narrow my eyes.
“You and your brother aren’t.”
I make a face. “Are you sure he isn’t the one you’re in love with?”
We both laugh, but then something shifts in his expression. It’s subtle and small enough that most people probably wouldn’t notice, but it’s my job to notice these things.
“Lovie.” Warmth floods my chest. “He won’t stay mad at you forever. Em won’t either. They just need time.”
Parker leans forward and presses a long kiss against my cheek. The gesture pulls a smile out of me instantly. “What would I ever do without you?” he asks quietly, tightening his arms around my waist.
The sound of my phone ringing pulls me from our bubble. Parker groans and makes a bitter face as he reaches for it and reads the caller ID. His eyes narrow immediately. “Who is…Love Of My Life heart-emoji crown-emoji and…tongue emoji?”
I grin immediately, reaching for the phone. “Charlie…don’t ask.” I let the call go to voicemail and toss my phone back on the small table.
“Well, what’s mine?”
“Pet’ka parentheses Parker Morozov,” I joke.
“No emoji?”
I let out a deep sigh, straddling his waist and wrapping my arms around his neck. “Do you want an emoji, my love?”
“Maybe the hockey stick one.”
Parker brushes his hands up and down my waist and shakes his head. He pecks me on the lips before kissing me on the cheek again, like it’s somehow become his new favorite spot to kiss me. When he goes as far as to blow a raspberry against my cheek, I scrunch my nose and reel. “So weird,” I snort.
“I think it’s very healthy for loving, dedicated couples to be weird with each other,” he argues before doing it again.
“Mhmm.”
Before I know it, I’m being carried out of the hot tub bridal style and lowered onto my feet. Parker throws a towel at me and gives me a suggestive look.
“That look scares me.”
“Get on the bed,” is all he says, drying off the droplets of water in his hair. “I want you on your back, angel.”
A minute later, Parker towers over me, completely naked, studying me like I'm a piece of artwork. I prop myself up on my elbows, looking up at him with a ready look on my face.
The feeling of his fingers brushing up and down my outer thighs makes me hold my breath, especially because his expression hardens solemnly.
“Are you feeling relaxed?” Parker asks softly.
He wraps his hands around my quads and yanks me to him without warning.
A small, startled yelp slips past my lips.
He slides a hand down to my ankle. When he starts pressing his thumbs into the arch of my foot, I suck in a pained breath and pull my leg back, but he doesn’t let go.
My answer to his question is an easy no. “Pet’ka. Please tell me you’re not about to do what I think you are…”
“We’re making love,” he grins.
“You’re massaging my foot.”
Parker kisses my arch before letting my foot drop. “I thought you liked—”
“Not here!” I hiss. I reach out to him, immediately yanking him on top of me. “Ugh. Just get on your back,” I order, rolling him off me.
“You love me,” he grins, happily holding me by the hips when I straddle him.
I slap my hand to his cheek and lean in. “Too much.”
Parker smiles to himself, like he's taking it as the greatest compliment he's ever received.
For a minute, neither of us speak. Parker brushes his nose across mine, breathing softly. “I love you, too,” he whispers. “My beautiful baby boy.”