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Instead, I run through the checklist of why that’s a bad idea: first and foremost, the fact we’re on a fake date, not a real one. I’m a fake boyfriend, not an actual one. I don’t think I’d even know how to be a real boyfriend, so there’s also that. Brandon. Parker’s father. The guys on the team.
None of those thoughts make a dent in my desire. But when I remind myself I plan to be gone as soon as humanly possible, THAT thought sobers me.
Strangely, the thought of leaving Harvest Hollow doesn’t fill me with a sense of relief. Not like it has before. Not like when I was dreading this move, even though I assumed it would be temporary. Now, the thought of my time here ending makes me feel … conflicted. And the very last thing I want is to be conflicted about this town. I can’t already be feeling tied to this place.
Or, I think,to its people.
“It’s not too late,” Parker says, startling me out of my downward thought spiral.
I frown. Glancing over, I see her white knuckling her sparkly purse. “Too late?”
The smile she gives me is shaky. “To back out. You can drop me at the door. I’ll uber home. I know I strong-armed you into this, Logan.”
I place my hand over hers. Touching Parker is dangerous—something I realized earlier when Mia took our pictures. The moment I put my arm around Parker, I was immediately hit with the urge to crush her against me. Even just touching her hand with mine seems to spark something to life.
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” I tell her. “And no one I’d rather be with.”
Okay, maybe the first part wasn’t completely honest—I’d definitely rather be going somewhere I won’t have to see her brother and dad. But the second sentence was a littletoohonest. I need to make sure I’m not giving Parker any ideas. I remove my hand quickly, clenching the steering wheel becauseI’mthe one getting ideas.
“Are you sure?” Parker presses. “Because—and don’t take this the wrong way—you seem stressed.”
I don’t say anything, and Parker angles her body toward mine. I resist the urge to look her way, keeping my eyes on the road instead.
“Is this because of my dad and Brandon?”
That’s definitely a part of it. But it’s my own struggle to tamp down the feelings that keep rising up. Feelings I shouldn’t—I can’t—act on.
“I’m not looking forward to seeing them,” I admit.
“I know my dad is a jerk, and I understand about Brandon. Though he’ll get over it. You were best friends.”
We were. But right before I left, I realized friendships are a lot more complicated than that. And he’s not the only one who has something to get over before we could be friends again. I have my own hard feelings Brandon doesn’t know about.
“Does Brandon know you’re coming with me?”
“He does,” Parker says.
When she doesn’t elaborate, I say, “And?”
She sighs. “He had a few choice words about it via text. But look—it’s fine. I don’t care what he or my dad thinks. You’re with me tonight, Wolverine. I’ve got your back. Okay?”
I can’t help but smile at the ferocity in her words. And at the idea of Parker protecting me—the big, bad-tempered hockey player.
When I don’t answer, she leans over and pokes me in the shoulder. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’ll stick to you like glue,” she says, and her words sound somewhere between a threat and the sweetest promise.
To tell the truth, it sounds awesome.
* * *
One thing I did not expect was Harvest Hollow’s version of a red carpet entrance, complete with the press. I shouldn’t have been surprised, considering Parker’s dad. I mean, I assume the man is as self-important now as he was then. Given the birthdaygalaand all.
Parker comes to a dead stop on the sidewalk. If the valet hadn’t already left with my SUV, she looks like she would consider hopping back in and peeling rubber to get out of here. Ahead of us, photographers and reporters crowd against the rope barrier while guests pause and pose for photographs. For a town this size, it’s alotof press.
“Oh no,” Parker says. “I didn’t know about this. Maybe I should have, given my dad, but I didn’t.”
