Love's Paradox

Chapter 19: Holy Noodle in the Sky

My normal Sunday routine is to lounge around my apartment while doing laundry for the week, but Parker's is more hectic. Still a tiny bit terrified to be alone, I shadow him for the day. So far, he's been this loner in my mind. Family far away in Texas, friends rarely spoken about except for Terrance, who seems to be Parker's polar opposite, and no recent girlfriends. Unlike my lazy Sundays, his are spent cavorting around town.

In the early afternoon, we head into town for lunch. Though I'm not prepared to ride on the back of Parker's bike—I've never even been on a bike before—it sends a thrill through me. We have lunch with Parker's friends he met several years ago at a Beach Bend Bike Rally. They're a rowdy bunch, though mostly they talk motorcycle gibberish that is beyond my understanding. They rib Parker and me, since he's never brought a girl with him on one of their weekly summer bike rides. My heart gives a little squeeze at the idea of him not wanting to share this with anyone else but me.

"Those are some gnarly stitches," one of the men says. I think his name is David. "How'd you get them?"

A hush sweeps across the table, and all eyes swivel my direction, pinning me to my seat.

"I, um, jumped from a moving truck," I say, shifting nervously.

"No way," David shouts.

When the group realizes I'm not lying, laughter ripples through them, and their voices clamber together until I can't understand a word anyone is saying. Parker peers down at me, dimples forming in his cheeks as he smiles.

We gather in the parking lot of the restaurant after we eat, and motorcycle engines come alive around us, vibrating the ground. Parker offers me a helmet, and I snag it up in wild anticipation. The ride this morning didn't last long enough.

We ride for hours on winding country roads. There's stunning scenery, fun, blinding curves, and fresh, smog-free air. I can see why he's made this his routine. It's a lot like being on a horse, in the sense that everything around you disappears, so it's just me and my thoughts. Mine mostly focus around Parker, since I'm pressed against his muscled back. By the time we return to his house, I'm exhilarated and want to tackle him.

Parker slams me up against the wall in the entryway, kissing hungrily up my neck. Baxter approaches us, sniffing and wagging his tail, but we're so intoxicated with each other that it's several long minutes before either of us realizes he's even there. Parker nuzzles my neck, eliciting a little cry of pleasure from me. "I've been neglecting him," he breathes across my skin, placing more kisses along my collarbone.

I turn my head to the side and peer down at Baxter while Parker presses his body against mine. The dog's brown eyes stare back at me, all big, round, and puppy-like. "Stop it," I hiss at the dog. "That look is unfair."

Parker chuckles and backs away. "He's a charmer. Those eyes will get you every time."

Baxter paws at him as if in acknowledgment, then whines.

We take Baxter for a walk, enjoying the cool weather that floats in on a soft breeze. Everything about the day so far feels absolutely perfect. Even strolling along side Parker in complete silence is a comfortable balm.

After the walk, Parker changes into black jogging shorts and a blue jersey with the number twelve and his last name printed on it.

"You any good at basketball?" he asks on the drive across town to meet his friends for their weekly game.

"If elbowing people in the gut and face were legal on the court, I'd be a pro."

He smirks. "I'll take that as a no."

"Pretty much," I say. "But if you need someone to foul, I'm your gal."

I finally meet his best friend Terrance in the parking lot of Parks and Recs. His gold SUV's windows vibrate with the low bass of a rap song as we approach his car. The engine shuts off, and when he opens the door, the music goes silent. Terrance steps out, and I have to crane my head back to take him in. He most absolutely looks like a basketball player: tall, lean, hands the size of my head.