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Filming a short video is way more complicated than I would have guessed, and despite not enjoying myself, I can’t say I mind watching Parker. This is clearly her element. She directs everything with a practiced ease, never losing patience no matter how many times one of the guys screws up.
“Okay, next up—I need everyone out here.” Parker ignores the groans. “Form rows. It’s time for the ‘Cha Cha Slide.’”
Tucker groans. “Seriously? It’s like the dance that never dies.”
“Better than the macarena,” Parker says as Felix and I settle in the back row along with Nathan.
Alec, from his spot up front, cranes his neck. “Why are you hiding in the back, Barnes? Don’t want to embarrass yourself dancing in front of your girlfriend?”
A few of the guys chuckle, but Parker arches a brow at Alec. “Oh, I’ve seen Logan dance. And let me tell you—you’ve got nothing on him, Ego.”
That elicits a lot of jeers and laughter, but Alec only laughs.
“You’re welcome to stay back there,” Parker calls to me. “Or you can come up here and show them how it’s done.”
The word no is almost out of my mouth, but then Parker smiles, and I find myself skating toward her. Van and Eli, now back in practice gear, step aside and make room for me. I feel like an idiot, but Parker beams.Worth it.
Even for ten minutes of cha cha sliding, which will immortalize me on the internet forever. I don’t hate it as much as I expected to. Probably because Parker keeps throwing smiles my way.
“You got moves, I’ll give you that,” Alec says as Parker dismisses most of us toward the bench to film whatever’s next.
“He’s got moves you’ve never seen,” Eli says in a weird, high-pitched voice. Alec and I both blink at him. “Don’t tell me y’all never saw ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding.’ Classic Julia Roberts. Seriously?”
Eli is still opining about the tragedy of us not having seen what is apparently one of his favorite movies when we all sit down. I tune him out.
Having barely anything to do gives me too much time to watch Parker. I watch her mouth as she orders Van around, all the while thinking of what she asked me to do last night. How I torturously described how I would kiss her affected me more than any real kiss ever has. I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so much. I know she wanted it too.
The way her pulse raced under my lips as I kissed her neck. The way her breathing changed. The way she clutched me like I was the life raft keeping her afloat in shark-infested waters.
Or was I reading this all wrong?
I’m used to straightforward women. They make it clear what they want from me, and it’s usually just one thing. Or two, if we consider the money and fame as a secondary benefit to dating me. Like the woman who worked at the hotel—there was no way to miss her intent.
With Parker, I don’t know how to read the clues. Or cues? Whatever. I can’t read her. She’s not upfront about wanting my money or my body or to be seen on my arm. She’s nothing like other women.
Parker doesn’t want to even kiss a man until it means something. Until it’sreal. And me? Things were always casual for me. Low risk, low return.
And now thatcasualisn’t what I want, I’m lost. Now that Parker is all I want, I have no idea what to do with myself. Or with her. Or with all of these—ugh, the thought makes my lip curl—feelings.
“You look like you’re having a bit of a moment there,” Felix says. “Everything cool?”
I almost say yeah, but instead, shake my head. “Nah. Not even a little.”
After giving me a long look like he’s trying to gauge just how not cool I am, Felix finally nods. “Come with me.” He starts to skate off.
“Won’t we get in trouble?”
But Felix and I are at the back of a group of guys. Parker is busy pointing at the screen on the videographer’s camera, talking to him animatedly. No one is paying any attention to the two of us.
When Felix doesn’t answer, I follow.
We end up with our skates and pads off, climbing a stairwell to the catwalk above the ice. If it were someone else, I’d think they brought me here to push me off—or at least to threaten to push me off. But I have a strong suspicion Felix did it to make sure I know firsthand it’s safe for Parker when she’s filming.
He stops near the middle, and together, we lean on the rails, watching below as Parker orchestrates a video that involves Alec lip syncing while doing something that I think is supposed to be the Moonwalk.
“Does he know he’s a terrible dancer?” I ask.
“No,” Felix says. “And don’t tell him. Then he’d probably stop. His pride couldn’t handle thinking he’s bad at something.”
