Sitting at the diner waiting for the girls to show up for our Monday morning breakfast, I can’t help yawning into my coffee mug. I’m tired. Exhausted is more like it. Park and I stayed up late the night before. I grin into my coffee, as I think about how we stayed up playing scrabble. Scrabble. How he made mundane old school board games fun, I have no idea. But he does. He makes everything special, brighter. I’m getting too attached, I think to myself and my grin falls as I sip my coffee.
“You look like you are solving the world’s problems,” a familiar voice says and I look up smiling. I watch Carrie slip into the booth in front of me.
“Just thinking,” I say smiling at her.
“About the hot piece of man meat you have stashed away?” She asks with a smirk on her lips, eyebrows raised.
A waitress comes and drops off a mug of coffee for her.
“It’s been two weeks.” I tell her.
“Yeah.”
“I should end it.” I whisper and she stops stirring the sugar into her coffee, her big, blue eyes wide in disbelief.
“Why on Earth would you do that?” she asks, frowning, cute little lines forming on her forehead, and I bite my lip.
“Carrie… he doesn’t know.” I start to admit the guilt that has been eating away at me. He’s been open and honest or at least I think he’s been and I haven’t shared.
“Who cares? Everyone has a past. We’ve all done things that we regret. Everyone has except for St. Lucy.” She says with a smile on her face looking at Lucy who’s standing at the end of the booth.
“Hey! I’m not as a goody two shoes as you guys think I am.” Lucy says and Carrie blushes at being caught calling her St. Lucy.
“Scoot over.” She says smiling and sitting in front of me. “Tess called, she’s running late. She said to order her the French toast platter.” I nod at her.
“What regrets are we talking about?” Lucy asks grabbing Carrie’s coffee and taking a big sip of it. The look on Carrie’s face, makes me stifle a laugh.
“This idiot thinks she should break things off with her hot guy.” Carrie says and Lucy looks at me.
“Carrie.”
“Why would you do that?” Lucy asks, her amber eyes going a little wide in surprise.
“He doesn’t know about what I use to do at Shine. Plus the world he lives in, there’s a chance that…?”
“Someone could recognize you?” Lucy finishes my sentence and I nod, picking up my mug.
“Then tell him.”
“I can’t.” I can tell they want to say something but they don’t because the waitress shows up to take our order.
***
Tess didn’t make it to breakfast.
Her life’s pretty complicated at the moment. Between her mom being sick and her preteen sister, Lydia, acting out, Tess has her hands full. Carrie left a while ago, so now it is just Lucy and me.
“So, I saw Jake yesterday.” Lucy says, sipping her glass of water looking away from me, and I bite away a smile.
“Really?” I ask.
Jake has tried to call me a few times, and I still haven’t spoken to him. Lucy’s been mum on the Jake subject these last two weeks...until now.
“Yeah, I had to go to some charity thing for Belle,” she tells me and I am fighting really hard not to smile.
“And?”
“And he asked about you. It seems like he really wants to talk to you.” She says drinking her coffee.
“Luce….”
“I understand running away from your past. I do. I get it more than you can imagine, Liz.” She says, her voice is quiet but serious. Her caramel eyes meeting mine, she continues. “But sometimes the past comes crashing back and you have to deal with it…,” she says surprising me.
Not because I could take what she was saying as rude, but because Lucy has never been the type to be in your face about things. She’s the easy one, the sweet one, the one that wants you to be happy. She keeps talking letting me know she isn’t done, “You’ve looked happy these last few weeks….”
“I’ve been happy before.” I tell her and her eyes sparkle and she smiles.
“No. Not really. Not once since we met. These last two weeks you have actually smiled. Really smiled! Not the fake shit you give everyone or the rare smiles that escape from you when you don't notice your guard is not up.” She says sounding too damn smart.
“Luce….”
“Don’t let the past define you.” She tells me sounding like a sage.
“Babe...that’s not what….”
“You lost your parents way too young. You lost a stable thing and you had to grow up too fast, and in an ugly way. Then what you had with Jake and how he screwed you over, that hurt. Then the thing with Matt…Vicki’s a bitch, but you let her walk into that.”
“You know about Matt?” I ask, surprised at how she’s talking to me, trying to focus on the lighter side of things.
“I’m not blind.” She says smiling brightly.
“You never said anything.”
“Why would I? Tess and Carrie gave you enough shit about the Matt thing,” she tells me sincerely.
“Anyhow like I was saying… Parker and you…”
“It’s not serious Luce. He …” I start to argue but that was when Lucy said something that made my head start to spin.
“He looks at you like you are the most beautiful creature he has ever laid eyes on.” Her face is honest and she sounds so sincere, that her words freeze me in my seat. Taking advantage of my obvious surprise she keeps talking, “I think you should give Jake a chance to talk. Put that behind you, so that whatever is going on with Parker can happen… or at least it can have a fair chance.”
“That’s what Tess said.”
“I know.” I look at her questioningly and she smiles. “What you don’t think we talk about you when you are holed away with the hot piece of man meat?” Those words coming from St. Lucy’s mouth sounds so bad I laugh.
Chapter Fourteen
Liz
I didn’t break it off with Parker. I didn’t push him away. I didn’t play mind games. I kept floating in my happy little cloud. He’s had to go to a couple of charity event that luckily had been on the same nights I had to work late, working on intricate wedding cakes. Even then, the moment he left the events and I left work, we ended up next to one another in bed.
A month and a half since my birthday, and Parker and I have been inseparable. I haven’t told him that I used to work at Shine, but maybe the girls were right. Everyone has a past and maybe he wouldn’t think it was a big deal?
It is a rare Saturday off, and we’re at my apartment. He’s watching a basketball game in the living room. I just got off the phone smiling brightly, completely excited about the call.
“Hey, what has you so happy?” He asks, raising an eyebrow taking a drink of his beer while I go sit on his lap.
“That was my friend KC!”
“Oh?”
“KC has a swanky job at this fancy spa in Calabasas and has been too busy to do on the side clients, but he just called and said he’s on his way!” I tell him, and I’m pretty sure I’m beaming.
KC used to be a bartender at SHINE. He went to school and became a masseuse. He’d also become the house masseuse for all the girls who danced and waitressed at Shine because wearing heels all the time is a bitch. Even after I stopped working at Shine, I still saw him. KC has what I can only describe as gifted hands that are able to take away every ounce of stress from my body.
“Oh.” Parker says, taking a swig of his beer glancing at the TV. I shrug, and kiss him on the cheek.
“I’m a going to fix the room. If he knocks, can you let him in?” I ask him, sounding excited.
“Fix the room?” He asks, putting his beer down on the coffee table in front of him.
“Yeah, so the massage table will fit.” I tell, already feeling relaxed at the idea of getting a massage. My back had been hurting and I was ready to get pampered by talented hands.<
br />
“Huh,” he grunts and I walk away to go clean my room.
****
I hear the moment KC knocks on the door and Parker’s heavy footsteps goes to the let him in. Smiling and trying not to skip in joy I go to the living room to greet him.
KC smiles brightly at me, his eyes obviously amused at Parker being in my apartment. Just because I hadn’t seen KC in a while, didn’t mean that Carrie, Tess and Lucy hadn’t. By the look on KC’s amused face, they had obviously updated him on the man meat standing in front of him.
“Hey, babe!” KC smiles, walking towards me and leaning his table against the wall.
“Hey, stranger!” I beam, hugging him back.
“Parker, this is KC Rivera, my friend and masseuse extraordinaire… KC, this is my… friend Parker Stone.” Parker raises an eyebrow at me. For a moment it looks like he is going to say something to me but he shakes his head, and turns to shake KC’s hand.
“Come on.” I tell KC, leaving Parker to his basketball game on TV. I am so excited about seeing KC, I don’t realize that Parker is really, really quiet. If I’d been paying attention, I would have felt the tension radiating off of him. But I was in my own little world.
KC and I are in my room, talking and catching up as he sets up his massage table. He’s telling me about the famous people who walk through the door of the fancy spa and he tells me about his latest boyfriend.
“His name is really Butch?” I ask smiling and KC’s brown eyes dance with mirth as he nods.
“I swear. I had the same reaction, honey… but he could be named Hillbilly Jim for all I care. He’s a great guy.” KC tells me and I smile.
“Good, you deserve a good partner.” I tell him. KC’s gaze goes towards the door in a dramatic way and he looks back to me.
“So do you,” he tells me seriously and I breathe in deep. Yup, the girls have been dishing about me.
“KC…,” I warn.
“I’m just saying….”
“He’s a good guy. But it’s casual… just fun.” The moment the words fall out of my mouth I wonder if I’m saying them for KC’s benefit or mine. Almost as if KC can read my mind he smiles, eyes dramatically rolling.
“Honey, you might want to tell him that.” He whispers loudly and I laugh shaking my head. “Okay babe, get ready I'll be back in a second,” he says exiting my room to give me privacy to strip and hop onto the table.
Naked, except for the mint green lace boy shorts and the pale lavender cotton sheet covering me, I lay face down on the table. The door opens and I start to talk.
“So you really like the new spa?” I ask KC, lifting my head, but instead of KC in my room, Parker’s standing there. The sight of him, in front of me will never get old. He looks great today. Dressed in a crisp, white button-up dress shirt untucked, the first two buttons undone at his neck, dark blue jeans and barefooted. God, even his feet are hot.
“What are you doing? Where’s KC?” I ask, lifting the sheet up my chest.
“I thought about it, I’m not okay with it.” He says and I look at him feeling confused about what we’re talking about.
“Okay with?” I ask looking at him.
“You getting a massage.” He says and I’m still confused. Why would he need to be okay with that?
“Me getting a massage?” I frown, looking at him, “Are you insane?” I ask him, my voice getting a little louder, okay a lot louder.
“No. I meant…” He starts to say rubbing his face. He takes a deep breath as if he’s trying to conjure patience or divine intervention. Something about watching him look so frustrated and slightly annoyed makes me smile. Even if I don't have the first clue as to what has him like this, I can’t deny he’s freaking adorable.
“Sweetheart, KC’s been giving me massages for over three years. It helps. My back … first was from being in heels all the time when I was umm a waitress, now it’s from being on my feet all day at the bakery. He’s totally professional. It’s not sexual at all.” I tell him, and it’s the truth. Sure KC was a cutie, but I didn’t see him that way at all.
“Really?” He asks, clearly in disbelief and I can no longer bite away my smile.
“Park… he’s gay,” I say softly, trying to somehow put his mind at ease.
“Does he have a dick?” Park asks, his jaw set tight, and I laugh. I laugh so hard that I don’t notice that his serious expression is angry and completely irritated.
Clearly, Parker wasn’t trying to be funny.
“Babe, he used to come here once a month. Then he got a new job. He does them in my room because it’s the coolest place in my apartment.” I explain again shifting my body on the table so that I am now sitting up, completely covered in the lavender cotton sheet.
“I don’t give a shit if he use to give you full body massages in the fucking kitchen so you could have the refrigerator door open, it’s not happening anymore.” He tells me, his voice commanding and serious, as if what he says is law.
“What?” I ask, trying to figure out if he’s somehow trying to be funny. Slowly, it starts to sink in that Parker isn’t joking or kidding around.
He’s serious, actually really serious.
The ache in my lower back is not getting any better with me sitting and arching my neck to up at look at him. The tenseness in my body is making me ache. My eyes are on Parker’s seriously pissed off face.
“You heard me.” He says seriously. His face and tone are so serious that I can't believe this is even the same guy I’ve been seeing for over a month. Parker’s usually so patient and sweet, not bossy and... cavemanish as the Neanderthal standing in front of me clearly is being.
“You can’t decide that.” I tell him. Sitting up straighter on the table, holding the sheet tightly in front of me, my eyes wide as my heart rate picks up. I watch his hands stretch out and cage me in. His hands clenching the table, my body is trapped between him and the table.
“Are we together?” He growls. I squint at him.
“What?”
“Are you my girl?” He asks in that demanding voice that instantly makes my skin prickle with warmth and my nipples bead up.
“What?” I whisper, my breathing starts picking up.
“Are you mine? My girl?” He asks again in that same demanding voice. My heartbeat is high enough to compete with a hummingbird and my mouth is slightly dry.
“Park…,” I start to say but I have no idea what to say next.
Out of nowhere he stands straight, his legs against my knees, closing me into the table, he starts unbuttoning his dress shirt, and holy hell if that isn’t a distraction. He’s wearing a white muscle shirt beneath the crisp, white dress shirt. The kind that was made of thin ribbed cotton material. Material so thin you know, the moment your fingers touch the material it’ll be soft and worn, and the warmth of his body sparkling underneath your fingertips. Soft cotton that is laid over hard strong muscle and at the thought, I clench my thighs together.
“I...ummm…,” mumbling not able to find my words, I swallow hard.
“Are you or aren’t you?” He asks again in that same demanding tone.
“I… uhmm…,” am still not able to answer. Holy crap, he wants more than fun.
Can I do this? I wonder at the thought of Parker wanting more with me.
“You’re killing me, angel. Swear to Christ you’re killing me.” He says shaking his head, making his hair shift slightly.
He’s needed a haircut for the past two weeks, his hair is longer and slightly curling at the ends, but it looks good on him. Parker normally is hot, but right now, hair disheveled and pissed takes him off the charts HOT. A whole new level of sexiness that is so new there wasn’t a term for it. My calm and collected Parker isn’t as perfect as I had thought, this argument adding another layer to who he is, and I liked it. I liked knowing that what I saw with him was really the man he is. He’s so real, something I hadn’t thought I’d have, yet here I am in my room having this ridiculous argument. I’m pissed and frus
trated, and if I had to admit completely turned the hell on. He was being himself and I felt a warmth come over my chest and all the way down to my stomach. A hard and fast Whoosh of another wall crashing down from around my heart.
Caveman looks good on Parker. It really, really works for him. Closing my eyes, I am trying to keep track of the conversation, instead of being distracted by his masculine beauty. I take a deep breath and open them only to see him standing in front of me, again his hands on either side of me, his face mere inches from mine.
“Well… We haven’t really…, “ I stop talking as his hands move from the table and go under my armpits, lifting me up as if I’m just a towel on a chair.
It always surprises me when he does this, but I also secretly relish it. He does it a lot when we are at his place, usually to get me away from the kitchen and on the living room couch or bed so we can cuddle. It’s a hot semi-possessive, gallant thing to do, and knowing he is strong enough to do it, is hot. So hot I can feel my body’s reaction to it. So much that I know my mint green lace boy shorts could be used as evidence of how much. But being honest, it really doesn't take much for me to get wet when I am around Parker. If anything it would probably be harder, if not fucking impossible not to be wet in his presence. Not that I want him to know that.
Carrying me the short distance to my bed he places me down gently. I watch as his large frame walks back to KC’s massage table. He starts folding the table back up as he begins talking, clearly pissed and really frustrated with me.
“Where did you wake up this morning?” He asks still not looking at me as he starts to lift and fold the massage table.
“Park…,” I start to say his head snapping in my direction, his grey eyes serious, I sigh, “Your bed.”
“And the night before that?” He asks, his voice deeply frustrated.
“Park…,” I whisper. I’m not sure why I’m whispering. Maybe it’s because I had no idea where all this was coming from on his side, or maybe the fact that his behavior is starting to freak me out. He stops fighting with the table that he is clearly having a hard time closing and looks at me with a look that encouraged an answer.
Etched in Stone (Six Degrees Series Book 2) Page 16
