Page 105 of Twisted Needs

“So you hate me and I’m ugly…”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“No. I’m persuasive.”

“You’re coercive.” He points at me. “Guilt-tripping me with that cute look on your face.”

“If I was guilt-tripping you, then I’d probably say something like…” I force the saddest expression I can manage. “I only just got you back.” The words leave my mouth before I really think about them. Mostly a joke.

The grin slips from Parker’s face for just a second. Something flickers across his expression before it’s gone almost immediately. His face softens and my heart gives an embarrassing little flutter. “That was stone cold.”

I shrug. “Go to work, Petchka. By all means⁠—”

Before I can finish, he suddenly bear-hugs me. Hard. So hard it forces a startled squeal out of me. “No,” he growls through clenched teeth. “Not happening. Now I have to stay and get my lick back.”

I laugh so hard my stomach hurts.

Eventually the laughter fades. Neither of us moves, and for a minute, we’re locked in a staring match.

Sunlight spills through the crack in the curtains, painting pale gold stripes across the room. It feels like one of those mornings when you wake up and everything just makes perfect sense all of a sudden.

Parker looks at me. The grin slowly disappears from my face because there’s something different about it. It’s not lust or desire. There’s no unbearable tension like the kind that’s followed us around for months. It’s just…affection. It’s plain and simple and entirely uncomplicated, like the kind of look that covers me like a warm blanket.

For a moment, he almost looks like he wants to say something. His eyes drift across my face, moving from my hair to my mouth. Then something unreadable passes through them. Just a heaviness that seems to appear from nowhere before disappearing again beneath a small smile. He could be tired still or thinking too hard about practice. I have spent months over-analyzing this man. Needless to say, I’m taking a fucking break.

“You don’t have to,” I tell him seriously.

Something shifts behind his eyes again, but then he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, almost like I’m something fragile to savor. “Stay in bed, beautiful,” he says quietly. “I’ll go make us some coffee.”

And despite every reason I should probably be suspicious of how easy this all feels, I find myself smiling as I watch him climb out of bed.

“What are your plans today?” Parker asks me an hour later.

We’re still tangled together in bed. The sheets are half-kicked off somewhere near the foot of the mattress, cold air brushing over my bare legs every time Parker shifts beneath me. His arm is wrapped tightly around my waist like he thinks I might disappear if he loosens his grip for even a second.

“Nothing,” I murmur. “Just have to work on a paper.”

“Hm.” His fingers lazily drag up the inside of my thigh before resting flat against my hip again like he wasn’t doing anything at all. “I could help.”

I glance up at him. “Yeah? Would you say you’re pretty knowledgeable about the Cold War?”

His mouth twitches. “Does it count if I was alive back then?” he snorts.

A grin spreads across my face. “I’d believe it.”

This conversation shouldn’t feel different. We’ve had versions of it a thousand times before. Passing each other in the kitchen. Sitting on opposite ends of the couch. Me bothering him while he cooks dinner for me. But now I’m stretched across his chest with his heartbeat thudding steadily beneath my cheek, and every tiny thing suddenly feels unbearably intimate.

“How the hell am I supposed to leave tomorrow?” Parker mutters quietly, taking a sip of his coffee.

Something tightens in my chest from the way he says it into my hair like he forgot to keep the thought to himself. I tilt my head up and brush my fingers through the sleep-mussed hair at the back of his head. “Retire. Become my full-time sugar daddy.”

“My contract is up at the end of the season,” he says casually, as if he’s just floating the idea past by me.

I still for a second. “Wait.” I prop myself up on his chest. “You’re actually thinking about retiring?”

“Yeah.” Parker exhales through his nose and stares up at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at me. “Been thinking about it for a while.”

The excitement hits me so fast it’s embarrassing. “Seriously?” I ask.