by Lyra Parish
SINGLE
Volume 2
Lyra Parish
Single: Vol. 2 is Copyright © 2015 by Lyra Parish.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the authors, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Authors’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
DEDICATION
To Will for showing me every day that love still exists in the world.
Want to chat about Single?
Use or search the hashtag #singleserial
“Are you fucking kidding me, Rox?” Stacey screamed into the phone. There was music blaring in the background, and I heard the clicking of a camera lens and loud flashes. I could only imagine how many umbrellas were set up for the shoot. She was at her next spread for Cover Girl, but decided to stop the presses just for me.
“I wish I were,” I said, remembering his lips on my thighs and the taste of him in my mouth. “He’s intoxicating.” My words seemed to drift away into the open space of the car as I accelerated onto the 610 Loop.
“Oh my god,” she said. “The airiness in your tone, the pauses between your sentences—you fucking liiiiiiiiike him, don’t you?”
I couldn’t admit that, not right now. It was too soon, way too soon. Actually, only hours after the incident, as I now termed it. I couldn’t even tell Stacey what exactly had happened, just that something had happened. Her imagination was dirty, so I’m sure she could figure it out with just a few hints. Honestly, if I even said a peep about it, or about how Parker Williams made me feel, she would be declaring her victory. I might as well just hand her the crown.
The incident had shifted everything I once thought I believed, and everything I had tried to avoid. I couldn’t deny that when I closed my eyes, his face was the one I saw. Those piercing blue eyes were burned into my retinas. I knew the smile permanently attached to my lips existed for one reason. Or if one wanted to get technical, it was the messy brown hair, blue eyes, and that sexy voice that almost made my knees go weak.
Oh my god.
Was I having a revelation?
Yes, I was having a revelation. Maybe I wasn’t in control of how I felt anymore? But that couldn’t be. Not after being with someone only once. The chase was over, wasn’t it? Fuuuuucccckkkkkk me! The heart was trying to control me, but I couldn’t let it. Even the heart had weaknesses. Love was the equivalent of stabbing a dagger into a heart and twisting. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that dramatic, but it felt like it to me.
“No. Of course not,” I said after a long pause. I was lost in my thoughts, and Stacey, being the way she was, noticed.
“I wish I could see your face right now, because I know you’re lying. I know you are trying to feed me lies, Roxane VanBuren, and I’m not having it. I want every single dirty little detail of what happened, and not just, ‘we moved to second base,’ got it?”
A man’s voice yelled in the background about how models should get off their damn phones and actually work today.
“I’ve got to go. Darrell is being such a douche. I swear his glitter panties are in a knot right now … but this isn’t over.”
More yells followed, and she said her goodbyes after cursing loudly that it was an emergency and people needed to shut the hell up.
My heart raced at the thought of what was happening to me. I had to deny this at all costs. I couldn’t be in like. I had never fallen for someone so soon. No way. And if I started admitting it, even to myself, it would be trouble.
I knew it sounded so silly to be in like, but it was the first step to love. All I could think of was that stupid childhood chant that we all sang to agitate people who were in like. Roxy and Parker sitting in a tree … next thing there would k-i-s-s-i-n-g, love, then a baby in a baby carriage. Hell no. No. There were no babies in my future.
I pulled into my assigned parking spot in front of the high-rise I called home and sat in the car looking forward as a grin swept across my face. I grasped my phone hard, trying to hold back the urge to text the Don’t Reply contact that was Parker’s number. I leaned back in the seat and held my hand over my thumping heart.
Stop it, heart.
When I glanced up, a familiar body was walking quickly to the front of Houston’s luxury high-rise condos, better known as home, just as someone else was leaving. He pulled the door open before it closed and slipped inside.
Jake. What the hell?
I loved that the high-rise was on lockdown—that a person couldn’t enter unless they were buzzed in or had a keycard—but some people, like Jake, would wait until someone left and sneak in regardless of whether or not they were welcome. I would be writing the manager this week to request extra security at the front. Of course, a building vote would go around and everyone would have to agree, but damn. If Jake could get in, anyone could.
Buried anger instantly boiled over. Sneaking into my building only added another X to his list, right under the scene at lunch the other day. I could have been with a client, or even on a lunch date. Either way, if it hadn’t have been Parker sitting with me at the table, it would have gone extremely badly. Jake understood my position at the firm—the countless meetings and the lunch dates with clients—and assuming I was on a date in the middle of the day only made an ass out of him. Sometimes I hated that he only worked a few buildings over. It was too easy for us to run into each other on the street. I bit my lip and grabbed my purse, then stormed inside the building. Hell hath no fury like me in this state.
Jake was standing at the elevator, waiting to go up. Mr. Marcy, the Hefner of the building, was walking behind me with a different woman—younger this time, probably no older than thirty. For an old guy, he still had distinct taste for what he liked and wanted, and apparently enough charm to get it. I turned and greeted the odd couple, and that’s when Jake realized I was behind him. A grin crossed his lips when he saw me, but he got nothing but sass and attitude in return. My nostrils flared as my anger level steadily climbed. I was a firecracker with a lit fuse; any minute, I would explode.
“Hey baby,” he said.
“I am not your baby, Jake.” The harshness in my tone wasn’t lost on him.
Instantly, his shoulders stiffened and he crossed his arms over his chest. Hugh and his little brunette bimbo stepped into the elevator, then Jake and I followed in and stood with our backs to opposite walls. The girl kept laughing and snorting, sounding like a mix between a hyena and pug, as she rubbed her hands up and down Hugh’s silk shirt. He was old enough to be her dad. On second thought, maybe he was old enough to be her grandpa. Hugh jerked his eyebrows up and down and nodded his head at me when he wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her close. That man. I shook my head then focused on the floor numbers illuminating as we zoomed up the building. They stepped off and as soon as they did, Jake turned and looked at me as we continued on toward the thirty-second floor.
“Listen. I just wanted to come by and apologize, then invite you to dinner. I shouldn’t have acted that way. It’s been bothering me ever since. I lost control.”
“You know how I hate drive-bys, Jake, and apology not accepted. And no to dinner,” I said, not even waiting a beat. I couldn’t do this anymore. As much as it pained me to admit it, Stacey was right … again. If I could time travel to that night at Orleans,
I would take it all back and avoid him like the plague.
He moved closer to my body. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Rox. You’re on my mind all the time. I just want another chance with you.”
When he grabbed my hand, I ripped it from his grasp. The elevator door snapped open and I stormed out. Jake followed in my wake.
“Go home, Jake.” Each time I rejected him, he became more openly angry, but I had already beaten him there.
“I’m not leaving. Not until you have dinner with me.”
I punched the code into the keypad and unlocked the door to my condo.
“You’ll be standing there all night then,” I said. I didn’t turn around to look at him before I slammed the door in his face then locked it. As soon as I walked in, my phone dinged with a text message.
Don’t Reply: Thinking about you. Any plans tonight?
My heart was hammering in my chest at just the thought of seeing Parker tonight, or tomorrow, or even leaving for New York with him on Sunday. I had to avoid him at all costs before whatever we were escalated to the next level, because lord knew there was another level. There was always another level when one was single.
I swallowed and set my phone down on the counter, then opened the bottle of whiskey that I kept hidden deep in my freezer. I took a cold shot with no chaser. I wanted it to burn as the freezing liquid went down. I contemplated my response, typed several witty replies, and deleted them all. It was Friday night, and the truth was I had no plans, but I could easily write Parker in. Almost too easily. Though it had only been a few hours since the incident, my body was still humming from his touch. The truth was I hadn’t stopped thinking about him since I’d left work.
Two knocks pounded against my door, and I downed another shot of liquid gold. I couldn’t handle Jake right now, and I wasn’t really sure if I could handle Parker either. Whoever had said Hallelujah once it had started raining men was insane.
After thirty minutes and a few more knocks, Jake left. I knew he wouldn’t remain standing out there all night, despite his determination to bring me to dinner. No meant hell no, and even he knew that.
Before I jumped in the tub, I picked up my phone and replied to Parker’s message.
Me: No plans.
It wasn’t a glorious text message, but one that got the job done, I supposed. I couldn’t stop smiling. I couldn’t help the feelings that were boiling inside of me, and I surely couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt like this. Years? Since Charlie left this world. I needed to dodge those dark emotions like the plague.
I undressed and slipped into the confines of a hot steaming bath, with Parker’s name pasted to my lips. Oh god. I needed to stop. I rinsed the lathered soap from my body then drained the water. My phone dinged, and I quickly wrapped the towel around my body. I shivered as drips of water ran down my skin.
Don’t Reply: Do you want some?
My thoughts went dirty. Then I remembered the previous texts about my plans for the night.
Me: Are you asking me out?
Don’t Reply: What if that were a yes?
Speechless. Absolutely speechless.
Parker Williams was brave.
I stared at the phone for minutes. I typed a response and deleted it, then typed it and deleted it again. Then I remembered that each time I started, a little blue box would pop up with little dots showing him I was writing a message. Freaking iPhones and iMessage gave my hesitation away.
Me: I’d say that’s not very appropriate, Mr. Williams.
Don’t Reply: I believe we are past the stage of appropriateness.
Heat rushed to my face as I remembered what had happened hours prior, and how I hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone once I’d locked my office. My father was going to kill me. If Dad ever found out about any of this, I would never hear the end of it.
What the fuck was I doing?
I sat the phone down on the counter then slipped on a pair of skinny jeans and a button-up flannel shirt. The temperature outside had dropped significantly. Apparently, there was an arctic breeze strolling through Texas. While fixing my hair, I decided that I would worry about the present and deal with the consequences when the time came … if there were any. Nothing would happen between us going forward. I had to make sure of it. I had to stand my ground and stay strong. After a few squirts of hair gel and scrunches, I replied:
Me: I haven’t eaten dinner yet.
Don’t Reply: Send me your address. I’ll be there in the next hour.
Me: I’ll meet you somewhere. I insist.
Don’t Reply: Not acceptable. Address, please.
Me: I’ll meet you.
Don’t Reply: I’ll meet you too, at your front door.
Me: I dare you.
I shook my head and set my phone back on the counter. My pounding heart and nervousness needed to stop because I hadn’t sent him my address. It was only dinner. I parted my lips and applied a red gloss. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw an average twenty-eight-year-old. The thought of being average at anything made me laugh. I often had too much responsibility, pressure, and work to be done. Weekends were for me. I whispered my motto as I slipped on my flats then sent Stacey a quick text.
Me: Parker asked me to dinner.
Stacey: You’re already going on a date with him? Text me a picture. I want to see what he looks like without the mask.
Me: It’s dinner, not a date, and I didn’t give him my address. If he wants me to go, he will have to find me in one of the biggest cities in the US of A. And yeah, I’ll get right on that.
Stacey: Gotta go. Still at work. Fill me in on all the juicy deets later.
Me: There won’t be any juicy deets.
Stacey: Sure there won’t be.
Me: Real quick. Jake is being a little overprotective. Might need to have that talk with him again. He showed up at my apartment and tried to force me to go to dinner.
Stacey: I’ll take care of it. Have fun!
My nerves switched into overdrive. I sat on the couch and turned on the TV while I wondered what Parker was doing. Thirty-five minutes had passed when the downstairs buzzer went off.
I took one last glance at myself in the mirror, adjusted a few rogue hairs, and looked into the little monitor that showed the front door. I would recognize those shoulders and body from anywhere—Parker.
How the fuck did he get my address?
I spoke clearly into the intercom and watched him on the little screen. “Yes?” My heart hammered.
He didn’t say a word, but rather gave me a seductive side grin and held up a Hershey’s chocolate bar and flowers. Then I watched as Hugh opened the door and waved Parker in. The two of them exchanged a few words and he nodded his head at me, knowing I was still watching.
Moments later, knocks echoed from the door. Before I opened it, I inhaled then exhaled slowly.
I am in control.
Parker stood with flowers and chocolate. My breath caught as I took him in from head to toe. He was wearing gray slacks and a nice button-up shirt, layered with a black peacoat. Oh god, his messy dark hair, pouty bottom lip, and sea-blue eyes made me think things I shouldn’t be thinking. My body instantly remembered his touch, his lips, and his strong body pressed against mine. His eyes shifted over me, admiring every curve and taking his time as he undressed me with his eyes. Heat rushed through me, and I couldn’t break away from his gaze. We were stuck in a trance, standing in silence as electricity passed between us. After a minute, he lifted both of his eyebrows and gave a slight smile when I didn’t say a word.
“Like what you see?” he asked. His voice was low with the perfect amount of rasp. Parker wasn’t going light with me. He had already set the tone for the evening with those four words.
“Do you really need the answer to that question? And how the hell did you get my address?”
“A little phone call to your father.”
“What?” I knew the color had drained from my face because I felt it dripping on the fl
oor.
“I told him you forgot something at the office and I needed to bring it to you. He didn’t even question it or hesitate in giving me your building’s address.”
“You did not. What could I have possibly forgotten that was so important that it needed to be hand delivered by you?”
“An orgasm, Rox.”
My mouth dropped open, and when I realized it, I quickly closed it. Not many men had the ability to shock me with dirty words, but Parker, it seemed, liked his superpower.
“Never dare me again.”
“Note taken,” I said, knowing there would be more dares.
Parker handed me the gifts and I smiled then shot him a flirty little look. “I was always taught to bring women flowers and candy.”
I quickly stepped inside of my condo and put the flowers in a vase then laid the candy bar on the counter. Parker leaned in the doorway, watching me move at hyper speed.
“I should change clothes,” I said as I walked toward him, realizing I was underdressed.
“You look perfect, Rox.” He grabbed my hand, and we both glanced down at it.
I swallowed hard. He had only recently started calling me “Rox,” but it seemed so comfortable coming from him. I wanted to play his game, but I needed to ensure that I would be declared the winner in the end. The internal struggle was more powerful than I had ever imagined it would be.
It’s dinner, just dinner, I reminded myself as I stood frozen in time with my hand in his. Before I could say another word, he pulled me in close and his lips crashed against mine. Heat swirled inside of me, and I couldn’t breathe. The emotions were almost too much to comprehend. Instinctively, I took a few steps back until we were inside, kissing, and trying to devour each other with each kiss. Parker shut the door without removing his mouth from mine. His hands threaded through my hair, and he pulled me closer until my breasts were pressed against his hard chest. Our closeness wasn’t lost on me. I gasped for air while latching on to the control that was slowly slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.
I pushed away from him, my breasts rising and falling with every unsteady breath. We stared at each other, both of us at a loss for words. For a moment, I thought I heard the sound of our hearts filling the room.
