JEZUS IT'S BEEN DECADES.
since it's been so long for most of you, I'll suggest hopping back and skimming the past two, three, or even four chapters (I'm sowwy!) before reading this one. that way you'll remember what's going on. ;-; I hope it's enjoyable~
▬▬▬ s . ▬▬▬
I didn't just not stop Parker from kissing me. I kissed him back.
As soon as it happened, it was over. Like ripping off a bandage. Only, Parker was my bandage and I'd probably needed stitches instead. The wound was fresh and oozing, ripped open once again from our tumultuous circumstances.
Breathless, hurt, and faintly excited, I blinked twice to find my focus.
"I want to go back," Parker admitted.He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. At that angle, the moonlight struck his face perfectly. It highlighted his sharp features and illuminated his eyes. It made him look, well, beautiful in a manner. "Like, way back." His eyes flicked over to me. "I could've changed so much, Carson. I could've changed everything. Y'know?"
"Don't get ahead of yourself there."
He shifted. "Yeah, I know. But you have no idea what I. . .you'd -" He stopped there. A dark sadness clouded his eyes for a moment. "Actually, never mind. I want to talk about something else. Like us."
Us. I felt the need to clarify that there had never been an us. There was Parker, and there was Carson. There would never be an us. Us was built off of trust and quite frankly, I couldn't even trust myself anymore. Us was just as stupid as love.
I bit my tongue, curling my legs up to meet my chest. "What's there to talk about?"
He snorted and rolled over to face me. The sadness had left his eyes, replaced with sparkling giddiness. "Well your lips are soft. And you kinda smell like my mom."
"Congrats on kissing your mother. . .?" I cocked an eyebrow.
"You can be a real smartass sometimes."
"It's in my blood." My jaw tightened impulsively. "So is this the grand finale? Is the Parker Therapy finally over?"
He laughed at first. "Parker Therapy? Holy shit I could trademark that." I laid frozen, hardly finding the humor in it. I probably could have if I hadn't broken myself down. "Carson," he sobered, "don't tell me you think of me as some therapist."
No. . . I didn't know what to put after that.
He shimmied closer. "I didn't just come to you because I want to play the heart-fixer. And I didn't come just to break your heart either. I wanted to. . ." he trailed off. I lifted my eyebrows at him.
"Don't say it," I said. I sensed the trouble in his voice and felt my jaw clamp shut again. "I don't want to know." It was a partial lie. Something just told me that if I knew what was making him hesitate, that everything would come to a screeching halt. All I wanted to do was sleep without drowning in my tears beforehand.
There was a lull in conversation before Parker sat up. "I'll let you sleep then. We can continue our 'Parker Therapy' tomorrow morning." He winked at me. I flipped him the bird in response. "And Carson?"
"What?"
He bent down, brushing his lips against mine. It sent a static feeling to my stomach. "I saw that smile earlier," he murmured.
I brought a hand to my mouth. "When?" I didn't remember smiling.
"When I kissed you, you were smiling." He slid out of the bed and grinned at me. "Made me want to kiss you again."
YOU ARE READING
Stereotypical
Romance"Its my hair, isn't it?" "What?" "My hair. That's why you don't like me, right?" + In which Carson desperately attempts to break the bad boy out of his box, and finds herself breaking out with him.