Page 139 of Twisted Needs

“No,” I shake my head insanely fast. “I can feel the vibe in here and I’m not liking it.”

Lee lets out an unbothered sigh. “Andy, come get your ass on the couch,” they mutter before looking back at their message thread.

I approach my friends slowly, hesitating slightly when Lee clears a spot on the couch for me.

Lee snorts. “Good boy⁠—”

“I’m leaving⁠—”

“Anders, just sit,” Aviva snaps her fingers, pointing at me.

Charlie, in true Charlotte Malloy fashion, waltzes over to me and sits directly in my lap. She wraps her arms around my neck and looks down at me with a suggestive look.

“Are the rumors true?” She smirks, slowly leaning in slightly closer. Close enough I get a whiff of her expensive warm vanilla perfume I always want to steal. “After our…special night together?”

“I’m gonna tell Mickey Rogers you’re cheating on him with a gay dude.”

Aviva sits up and cackles. “Mickey Rogers is busy these days.”

“With what?”

“She won’t tell anyone,” Charlie complains. “My brother won’t say a thing either and he’s, like, blocking our twin telepathy so I can’t even read his mind.”

“We’re sworn to secrecy,” Aviva argues. “But let’s not lose the plot. Anders—” She narrows her eyes at me. “This is your intervention.”

I press my lips into a hard line and nod. “Figured.”

“Lee, do you have the speech?” Aviva asks.

“What speech?”

“The speech,” Charlie chimes in, sliding off my lap. “About how much we love him and care and shit.”

“Guys,” I breathe. “This isn’t necessary.”

“Anders, you’re getting cracked by a forty year old man. God forbid we show some concern,” Lee snaps.

“Can’t be too concerned if you forgot the speech,” I mutter.

“Okay, whatever,” Aviva sighs, clapping her hands together. “Anderson. We love you. We care about you. We respect you.”

“But we need to get your Daddy issues in check,” Charlie blurts. “Like, can we talk about the fact that you’ve known this man your entire life?”

“It’s not like that.”

Lee shakes their head. “Okay—Aviva and Charlotte.” They hold their hand up. “Remember we’re hearing him out. Obviously he knows how it looks. Just give him a minute to explain shit.”

I give Lee an appreciative look.

Honestly, they’re the last person I’d expect to step in like that. Lee holds very high expectations for their friends and isn’t afraid of hurt feelings. I love their brutal honesty for the most part, but sometimes it hits hard.

I take a deep breath and sink back into the couch. The apartment suddenly feels warmer than it did a few minutes ago, and I can’t tell whether it’s because all three of them are staring at me or because I already know this conversation isn’t really about Parker. It’s about whether they think I’m making a mistake.

How do you explain someone like Parker to people who only know pieces of him? How do you explain a relationship that looks one way from the outside when it feels completely different from the inside? The age gap is obvious. The history is obvious. I know all of that. I’ve known it from the beginning. None of them are telling me anything I haven’t already spent months thinking about myself.

I look down at my hands and rub my thumb across my knuckles before finally speaking. “He’s always been my safe person.” Nobody interrupts, so I push forward. “Ever since I was little.” The words feel surprisingly easy to say out loud. “You guys know what growing up was like for me. You know how messy things were sometimes. You know how much anxiety I’ve always carried around. Even when I was a kid, Parker was one of the only people who could make me feel calm. He listened to me when nobody else did. He treated me like my opinions mattered. He remembered things about me. Not because he had to, but because he genuinely cared.” A slight smile tugs at my mouth as I think about it. “Honestly, he still does. He remembers everything. Half the time I think he remembers my life better than I do.”

I continue before anybody can interrupt. “I know how it looks. Trust me, I do. But you guys haven’t seen him with me. You haven’t seen what he’s actually like when nobody else is around. He…takes care of me,” I say quietly. “Not in a weird, controlling way. He just…pays attention. He notices when I’m anxious before I say anything. He knows when I haven’t slept enough. He knows when I’m overwhelmed. Being around him makes everything quieter.” Charlie reaches over and squeezes my hand. I squeeze back. “You guys know how my brain gets sometimes. The overthinking, the anxiety spirals, and migraines.”