Page 77 of Twisted Needs

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Parker follows me up the stairs. “Anders.”

It suddenly feels like he’s breathing right down my neck. I turn around and glare. “What?”

“Your family is worried.”

While he’s been ignoring me, he’s still talking to my brother and Em like there’s no problem. I can’t fucking believe him. Why the hell haven’t I realized this sooner?

“I’m fine,” I scoff. “It’s just a headache.”

“A headache?” he laughs dryly. “Is that it? A month-long headache?”

“Yep,” I lie, popping the “p.”

Parker doesn’t take whatever bait I’m dishing up to him. He just huffs and shakes his head. “Then tell them,” he snaps. “Don’t make this my problem.”

Something cold hollows out my chest. It takes me back to when I was younger.

An argument with Luca that ends in him telling me I’m lucky he even saved me from my father.

A night spent with Luca passive-aggressively camping outside my door because I cried and told him he’s never home and made him feel bad about it.

The one time he dropped me off at my Aunt Jen’s and I didn’t see him again for two whole days. I don’t even remember why he did it.

So now I’m a problem, like I’m some unstable fucking situation Parker got stuck managing.

Fine. If he wants to talk, then I’ll fucking talk.

I let out a cold laugh, marching back down the stairs. “You’re the one who’s making this a problem. Don’t act like this is coming out of nowhere. You don’t get to disappear for a month and act like I’m crazy for reacting to it.”

He clicks his tongue, clenching his jaw a tick and letting something vaguely related to a snarl leave his lips. “Don’t act like that,” he demands in a dangerously calm voice. “Don’t pretend like this is something it’s not.”

It’s almost like he’s more upset that I’m even acknowledging it. The real issue isn’t whether something really happened between us—it’s just the fact that I said it out loud. Parker wants things to stay blurry. He needs to be able to deny it when he gets too scared.

I know it’s not just me who’s felt things. If he really wanted boundaries, he should’ve set them years ago. Before the late night talks…the small, but meaningful acts of service to show me he cares. Before he kissed me. Before he dropped to his knees on the night of my birthday. Before he woke up one day—more than ten fucking years ago, at that—and decided he would do just about anything for me.

It all changed when I was old enough for it to actually mean something. Something he stayed away from because a feeling that complicated could be lethal.

He looks at me like I’m the only person in the room, but sure…it doesn’t mean anything.

I inhale slowly, unballing my fists. The insides of my palms hurt from my nails digging into the flesh. “I can’t believe you’re actually talking to me like this,” I murmur quietly, throat burning. Opening his mouth, Parker’s expression shifts, but he’s too late to get another word in. “If you don’t have feelings for me, then that’s completely fine,” I continue. “But the way you’re talking to me right now—I mean…am I really that much of a fuck up?”

“No,” he says before his mind can even catch up to him. He runs a hand down his face and exhales sharply. “Anders, I never said you were a fuck up.”

“You don’t have to say it. The fact that you can barely look at me now without glaring…speaks volumes.”

“Stop.” He takes a step closer. My entire body burns. “You are not a fuck up. I don’t ever want to hear you degrade yourself like that.”

But it’s fine for him to degrade me?

“Then what is so bad about liking me?” The question makes me feel pathetic, but I need to get this off my chest.

“Nothing—”

“Because I could call Seth right now and he would be on his knees the second he saw me.”

Something snaps in him. He rolls his shoulders back like he’s doing everything he can to restrain himself, clenching his jaw even harder. “Then fucking call him, Anders.”