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“Really?” she asks.
“Shut up, Pete.”
Her small smile blooms into something bigger. It’s so strange to see the same smile I remember on a much different face. Awoman’sface.
My stomach twists, a squirmy feeling settling in my belly, the same one I’ve been feeling all day around Parker.
“Enough talking,” Parker says, expertly lifting her chopsticks to her mouth. “Time for eating.”
I’m impressed by her dexterity as she expertly delivers noodles to her mouth with the chopsticks. But then, in classic Parker fashion, she slurps the last curly noodle between her lips, giggling. I don’t try to look away from her mouth this time.
“Why aren’t you eating?” she asks, noting the way my hands are still in my lap.
“Any chance I can get a fork?” I ask. “Chopsticks and I don’t really get along.”
Parker pins me with a look. “You balance that big body on tiny blades, and you can’t use two sticks to pick up food?”
“I can’t be great ateverything.” I smirk, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning back.
Parker only rolls her eyes. “This will not do.”
Scooting her chair back, she wipes her mouth with a napkin and stands. But instead of walking over to the silverware drawer, she steps behind my chair.
“What are you doing?”
Suddenly I’m hot all over as Parker leans over me, draping her arms over mine. It’s the same electric heat I felt earlier when I practically tackled her through the doorway downstairs. These are all feelings I’d best ignore.
Parker picks up the chopsticks, then shoves them into my hands. “I’m teaching you to use chopsticks. Rest this one on your thumb. Like this.”
It’s not easy to focus on what she’s telling me to do with my fingers when I am all too aware of her body pressed against my shoulders and her breath on my cheek.
This is Parker, I try to tell myself.Brandon’s little sister.
But I’m not thinking about Brandon or the Parker of the past. My body is on high alert—completely laser-focused onnowParker.
The now Parker whose hands are on mine, her fingers attempting to help me grasp the chopsticks correctly. I’d struggle even if I weren’t so flustered by her soft skin and the scent of her wafting around me. I can smell the ingredients she cooked with, but also cinnamon cookies—spicy and sweet like her personality. Different from the cloud of cheap brown sugar spray always surrounding her when she was younger. Past Parker always smelled like a half-baked cake.
I make the mistake of glancing to my left, where her cheek is practically pressed to my jaw. Her eyes cut to mine.
She’s so close that her brown eyes are out of focus. For a beat, we hover there. It’s the closest I’ve come to kissing a woman in a while. A long while, now that I’m thinking about it.
And I’ve definitelyneverwanted to kiss someone so much.
But it’sParker.
A huge piece of the past I left behind. And for now, she’ll be a huge part of my every day. At myjob.
I clear my throat and turn away. The chopsticks fall from my hand and clatter to the table.
Parker’s laughter is light, making me wonder if I was the only one who felt that tension between us. I’m almost dizzy with the after-effects of my longing, now mixed with a heavy dose of confusion and a dash of guilt.
Parker gives my shoulders a quick, firm squeeze before stepping away.
“Guess you were right—you can’t be good at everything, Barnes. A fork it is!”
* * *
An hour later, I’m walking back down Maple to my SUV. Alone.
