He fists his hands down by his side. “I would have never…”
I raise my hand, getting angry. “I get it,” I snap. “If you would have known I was a virgin, you wouldn’t have touched me,” I say with my voice rising. “But you did. Grow up and get over it. It was only sex for Christ’s sake. Quit acting like it was something important. It meant nothing to you and nothing to me. It was just a drunken fuck,” I scream as hot tears run down my face as I speak of that night. The lie hurts more than I thought it would. Like I just stabbed myself in the heart.
He just stands there and looks down at me with hard blue eyes and I swallow the lump in my throat. “I already told you. I can’t do this anymore. Goodbye, Tate.”
After that night, I had hope. And hope is a frightening thing. Because hope makes you fly and eventually everything comes crashing down. I just didn’t know that he wasn’t gonna be there to catch me.
So here I am, sitting on the couch as the seconds turn minutes and the minutes turn to hours. No Parker. And every time I try to call him, it goes straight to voicemail.
What if he was injured? Shot? Could have been in a car wreck. Who would they call?
I turn to Parker’s room and shove his door open. I go over to his nightstand and start going through it, looking for Tate’s phone. I need to hear his voice. I just need something…
I hear the front door open, and I stomp into the living room. I stand there with my hands on my hips and tears running down my face as I watch Parker walk in with a woman under his arm. And I don’t know why but my stomach drops and my anger rises.
“Where in the hell have you been?” I demand.
He looks at me with concern—eyes wide at my tone. He releases the girl and she takes two steps back as if she’s afraid of the crazy blond standing in front of her.
When he just stands there like an idiot, I continue on like I’m his wife who just caught him cheating.
“I’ve been waiting all night for you to come home. I’ve been sitting on this couch calling you over and over,” I yell. My anger has my voice shaking.
“It died,” he says taking a step to me. “I’m sorry, Missy.”
“You’re sorry?” I ask breathlessly as my heart pounds in my chest like a drum. “I thought something happened to you,” I shout. “I thought you had died,” I cry out
His face softens and I place my head in my hands as I cry. I’ve officially lost mind, but his job is so scary. I was so worried that I lost another friend when he was too busy out trying to track down some pussy. I sob as I feel his arms wrap around me. He gently kisses my hair and whispers sorry once again.
*****
I sit in Parker’s room on his bed. His cat Puss Puss lays in a ball on my lap purring as I softly pet her. I allow my eyes to look over Parker’s room for the first time. I figured it would have clothes strung out all over the floor. And the bed unmade. But it actually looks like he’s a neat freak, which I would have never guessed.
He has one long dresser that sits against the wall facing his bed. On it lays his gun, badge, and a set of handcuffs. I feel a chill run up my spine when I look at the gun. How something so small could cause so much harm. And it makes me wonder how many people Parker has killed. I would never ask him that, though.
I jump when I hear the doorbell and the cat takes off. I lay down and sigh when I hear Parker answer it. I have a feeling it’s my mother. She’s been calling and texting me every day. I ignore her.
“Where is she?”
I know who it is immediately. It’s Braxton, Parker’s younger brother. I dated him, if you can call it dating. I started seeing him after we got back from Vegas. I was actually with him when I found out I was pregnant with Tate’s baby. And he was also with me when he found out I lost it.
“What?” Braxton screeches pulling my out of my memory. “Why is she in your bedroom?” he demands.
Parker brought me in here to get some rest after I blew up on him and caused him to lose out on getting laid. After we had finished hugging, we found that the chick had bolted. He tried to carry me to Tate’s room, and I went crazy. I can’t go in there. I just can’t do it. So he brought me in here and then left me alone.
“Are you fucking your best friend’s girl?”
“No,” comes Parker’s deep voice. “I would never do that to Tate or Missy.” His voice rises.
I’ve never seen Parker so nice to a woman like he has been to me. I would never sleep with him, though. Or even kiss him. We are both just leaning on one another to help stay standing.
“This is not healthy. She needs to get away from his house.”
I sigh as I get out of bed and make my way into the living room where they are.
Braxton smiles when he sees me. “I’m not leaving.” His smile disappears.
“This isn’t healthy…”
“I heard you,” I interrupt him. “But you’re not gonna change my mind. You just don’t want me here. You never liked Tate.”
“I didn’t like the way he treated you.” He points over at Parker as he continues to speak to me. “I was the guy you leaned on and cried to about Tate. Let me be there for you again. Come stay with me.”
“No,” Parker speaks the word that I was gonna say.
“What the hell, Parker?” he snaps. “When did you become her bodyguard?”
“When you came here and decided that you know what is best for her.”
“And you think you do?”
“Well, I sure as hell am not the one in the room wanting to fuck her.”
Whoa! “Oh, shut the fuck up. We both know that’s the only reason why you’re doing this,” he shouts. “And for someone who cares so much about her well-being, you sure as hell didn’t mind when she was with that jackass. Tate treated her like shit!”
Parker punches him and then throws him against the wall. “Just because you think he didn’t deserve her didn’t mean my best friend deserved to die.” He then throws him out.
Parker smoothes his shirt and then sits on the couch. “Let’s watch a movie.”
I look around the room and bite my bottom lip nervously. What the fuck just happened? It all happened so fast, I’m still trying to process it. “Maybe I should just go.”
He stands quickly. “No…”
“I don’t wanna cause problems.” There’s already so much going on. Everyone is having problems with Tate’s death, and I feel like I’m making stuff worse.
“You’re not,” he says softly. He sighs running his hand down the back of his neck. “I…” He pauses and closes his eyes. “I have this feeling…” He fists his hand and places it on his chest. His eyes squeeze tighter shut. “I have this feeling that won’t go away. No matter what I do.” He swallows and licks his lips. “I can’t help but need you here.” He opens his eyes, and I stare deeply into them. They look so soft, so lost. As if he’s trying to figure out an answer to a problem that he knows he can’t solve. “I have this overwhelming feeling to protect you.” He takes a step toward me. “I would never step over that line with you, Missy. I hope you know that.” I nod, somewhat stunned by his words. “But I feel better knowing you’re here. In my reach. I need to see that you’re okay. My best friend loved you. And I feel like it’s my responsibility to take care of you.”
“Thank you,” I say numbly. “But you can’t take care of me forever, Parker. I can’t stay here forever.” I place my arms out and gesture to this house. “I need to move on. We need to move on.” Just saying those words rip my heart apart.
He straightens his shoulders and his eyes harden. “I agree with you.” He lifts his hands, mocking me. “Now go into his room and say that.” His words are spoken softly, but they are meant as a challenge. A challenge that he knows I can’t accept.
“I can’t…”
He takes a step toward me and reaches out for me. I step into him without thought. He wraps his arms around me, and I inhale his scent. It’s so opposite of what Tate smelled like. “But my point is that one da
y you will be able to. And I’m gonna be right here to hold your hand.”
He sounds so sure, but I’m nothing but skeptical.
CHAPTER FIVE
I can’t tell you how many days Tate has been dead. All I can tell you is that it still hurts just as bad. I still stay locked up in his house. I still sit on the couch every night that Parker goes to work, waiting for him to come home. He makes sure his phone is always charged and he calls me when he is gonna be late. It’s weird. It’s like we’re married without the actual aspect of being married. We don’t sleep in the same bed—he sleeps on the couch and lets me have his bed. We don’t kiss. We don’t have sex, but he does hold me when I have a breakdown. And he allows me to hold him when he has his. He has had a lot less than I have. I still don’t eat much. Parker brings food home and tries to cook for me, but I don’t eat more than a few bites. He jokes about me going outside and having the wind blow me away because I’ve lost so much weight. But that is pretty much what my life is in a nutshell. Depressing. Others don't come around us. They all have their own problems. I think we’re all afraid to be in one place at the same time, knowing that shit would hit the fan. Words would be thrown like candy at a parade. Punches will be given out like sprinkles on a cake. So, we all just stay secluded in our own caves and hide in the darkness.
So once again, I find myself sitting on the couch staring at the TV as it plays CMT. Have you ever really watched country music videos? There are all so sad, yet I can’t stop watching. I’ve gone through an entire box of Kleenex. They litter the floor and couch around me. Even Puss Puss has a few on her as she lays on the couch next to me. My throat’s raw. My head pounds and my mind wanders to what I would be doing right now if Tate was alive.
I hear the door to Parker’s room open and I grab the remote turning the TV off quickly. I wipe the tears from my eyes and give him a smile when he walks in. “What are you doing?” his voice rumbles from just waking.
“Nothing,” I say. Last time he caught me watching CMT, he turned it to BET, told me to get up off my ass and dance around. He said I needed to stop watching stuff that makes me think of Tate. Everything makes me think of Tate!
He looks over at the blank TV as he runs a hand over his hair. I can’t help but notice how low his pajamas pants sit on his hips. And the fact that he has no shirt on. Parker and I have become very comfortable between one another. It’s strangely odd.
“Were you watching CMT?” he asks.
I wipe my face once more and then give him a big smile. “Missy…” He sighs heavily as he looks around at all the used Kleenexes. His eyes slide over to the closed door that stands at the end of the hallway and my back stiffens.
“Parker,” I say in warning. So far, he hasn’t pushed me. He hasn’t told me to move on. Or to get over Tate. That’s why I’ve become so close with him, he’s letting me take my time.
He takes a step to me and I push myself further into the couch. “Don’t,” I say and the single word gets caught in my throat.
“I think it’s time,” he says walking over to me.
“Please don’t do this,” I say as tears threaten my eyes. “You can’t make me.” I shake my head quickly.
“You need to face it.”
My mouth drops open. “How can you say that after what you said to Braxton?” He defended me. He punched his brother and then literally pushed him out of the house because he was trying to push me to do something that I didn’t want to do.
He comes to a stop in front of me and kneels down. He grabs my hands and they shake uncontrollably. “All I’ve wanted to do is help you, Missy. And I feel like this will help you.”
“It won’t.” My voice trembles, mimicking my hands.
“It’s been a month, Missy.”
“No,” I say, not believing that.
He nods. “He’s been gone a month today, Missy.” He licks his lips and takes in a breath, preparing himself for whatever he is about to say. “I’ve been right here the whole time.” His hands squeeze mine in reassurance. “And I’m gonna continue to be here. To hold you. To remind you that he loved you. But it’s time.”
How has a month gone by? It feels like he just died yesterday. I can still remember the smell of his blood. I can still feel his blood seeping through my clothes. It has done nothing but consume me. Control me. What will entering his room change? We made love in that room. Well, before he pretty much told me to fuck off. I slept with him side by side in that room. He may have lived in this house, but I lived in that room with him. That was our special place.
Parker stands and my heart starts to pound in my chest. My breaths come quicker and my mind races. Numbly I allow Parker to pull me to my feet and he pulls me into his side. Gently he starts to guide me out of the living room and into the hallway and feel my knees weaken. My body physically tries to pull away on its own but Parker holds on tight.
I close my eyes and try to take deep, calming breaths but Tate’s unique smell hits me. It’s not an over the top smell. It’s just clean. Fresh. And it instantly brings back memories.
He takes a step toward me, and his upper lip turns up in a playful smirk. He moves slowly yet confident as if he wants to draw out my unease. “Are you nervous, Missy?” he asks, coming to stand in front of me.
My heart pounds in my chest wildly as I look up at him and try to smile, but it just makes him chuckle. “Don’t be.” He reaches up and places his hand in my hair. I close my eyes and take a relaxing breath. Just the feel of him soothes me.
“Tell me, Missy. Why are you here if you’re so nervous?” he murmurs.
I can feel his hot breath on my lips as he whispers and I moan. “Because you told me to,” I say breathlessly.
“Are you telling me that you’ll do anything I tell you to?” I continue to keep my eyes shut, and I can hear the excitement in that question.
“Yes.” My body shakes. Did I just say that?
He pulls my head back and gives me a soft kiss on my neck. “Good,” he says before he releases me.
I open my eyes and lick my lips. He stands in front of me still dressed in his basketball shorts with that same hard look on his face that he always has. It makes my stomach flip in anticipation of what he is thinking. He keeps himself so guarded—it’s hard to see what he is thinking.
I stand there in the silence as he stares at me. What is he waiting for? Am I supposed to be doing something? Whatever I did in Vegas was alcohol induced. I don’t know if I can be that person right now.
I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and take a step toward him. A man like Tate wants a woman, not some little girl with no experience. I’m gonna have to fake it. I take another step, closing the space, and reach down before I pull my tank top up and over my head.
I’ll make the first move. Because I want it. That’s why I’m here. Not because he told me to but because I wanted to come.
Before my shirt even hits the floor he pushes me up against the wall with his tall body as his hands slide up the side of my face, pushing my hair back in the process. “Tell me to stop,” he says hoarsely.
“No,” I whisper. My body is already trembling with want for him. Needing him.
“I won’t be able to be soft.” He pushes me harder into the wall as he growls, and I whimper.
“I don’t want soft,” I say honestly. I want all of him. Every bit of him. That’s one thing about Tate. He thinks he’s not good enough for me. He thinks he needs to be someone else. Doesn’t he understand I’m already in love with the real him?
“Missy,” his voice breaks, and I know his control is breaking as well. He lowers his head to mine; resting his forehead on mine. “What are you doing to me?” he breathes.
“Nothing yet,” I respond running my hands up his back. I allow my fingernails to dig in and his body shudders. I can feel his muscles tighten as I make my way back down his back.
“What do you want Missy?” he growls, and his usual dark expression doesn’t change.
“R
emind me what it was like,” I whisper, trying to pull him closer to me. His body heat is setting my skin on fire.
“Need me to remind you what it’s like to be fucked by a real man?” he growls, and I gasp. “Tell me, Missy—Braxton not cutting it anymore?”
My mind screams shut up but my insides clench as he speaks of Braxton. I like the jealous side of him.
I suck in a deep breath and lick my lips before I answer. “Tate…” His name is spoken softly, showing how weak I truly am for him, and he rewards me with a slow and sexy smile showcasing those beautiful straight white teeth.
He runs his thumb slowly along my jawline. “Don’t you?” His deep voice sends a shiver through me.
I swallow nervously and then nod my head. I wonder if he knows that he already owns every part of me. “Please.” My voice is quiet.
He pauses and his blue eyes darken. His body tenses and he shakes his head. “Don’t beg for it. Fucking demand it. Tell me what you want and then make me believe it.”
I inhale sharply. Demand it? I’m not good at dirty talk. What do I say exactly? “I want you to fuck me.”
His lips turn up slightly at the corners at how childish I must have sounded. “Not good enough, sweetheart.” He drops his arms and takes a step back.
“Wait,” I say, grabbing for his arm. I pull him back into me and look up into his eyes and tell him exactly what I’ve been wanting. “Fuck me like you’ve wanted me as much as I have you.”
“Have you dreamed of me touching you again?” he questions, running his hands up my sides.
“Yes,” I sigh.
“Tell me what I do to you in your dreams.” He pushes his erection into my stomach, and I whimper.
I swallow nervously. What doesn’t he do in my dreams? “You kiss me,” I say leaning back against the wall.
Unforeseen (Undescribable series Book 6) Page 5
