[18+]
[Closer to You spin off • If you plan on reading the Closer to You series, I recommend reading that first, as this story contains MAJOR spoilers... but CAN BE READ AS STAND ALONE]
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Parker Larson should've made something of himself. Hi...
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"Parker!" His name is off my lips before I can think better of it.
His retreating figure stops at the sound of my voice, then pivots to face me.
"You came," I say stupidly, noting his completely neutral expression and rocking back on my heels.
Where is the flirty Parker from just a few days ago? Did I just make something out of nothing? Am I that out of the dating game, that I completely mistook all of the signs?
Oh God. There were signs, weren't there?
"Probably against my better judgement, but, yeah, I came." Parker stuffs his fists into his pockets like he's not sure what to do with his hands.
My eyes narrow at his cryptic comment.
If he doesn't want to be here, then why is he?
I almost ask, but he walks over till he's standing right beside me, leaning against the brick of the building, his arm close enough to brush against mine. He's in only a black long sleeve, with the arms rolled up, and everywhere our skin touches feels like it's on fire.
"What're you doing out here," He murmurs, looking down at me as I try to remain calm and seem as unaffected by him as he is by me. "And not having fun in there?"
"You're out here." I point out without thinking it through, yet again. My stupid mouth can't seem to stay shut around him. "Plus," I add in a pathetic attempt to sound like I couldn't care less about him being here, "I needed some air."
We'd entered the boyfriend/girlfriend bashing portion of the night. It's always the same: Margot dishes on her latest Tinder fail, Rachel shares the woes of marriage that we simply cannot understand, and Larissa reminds us how it's not any easier when you date a girl. Like clockwork.
And then they all turned to me, the only one with nothing to contribute this time around.
Poor Summer. Sad, lonely Summer. So single that I make Pringles look like the picture of domestic bliss.
I just couldn't take their pitiful stares for one more second, each look reminding me that not that long ago I fit into the conversation just fine. I couldn't -
"Yeah, air helps out once the room starts to spin." Parker's tone is colder than even seconds before, which seems impossible, given I've done nothing to upset him.
Something in me, perhaps my backbone finally making an appearance, snaps, my head whipping around so I can look him in the eye at the same time.
"I'm not drunk." The words come out more forcefully than I meant them, and Parker cocks his head to the side, one dark brow arched.
A small smirk on his lips, he shrugs like it's neither here nor there, "Thought you mentioned something about celebratory drinks."
He faces straight ahead and I watch his profile intently until he finally meets my eyes again, thinking that maybe if I stare hard enough, I'll figure out why he's turned into such a jerk seemingly overnight.
