Page 31 of Turn

Parker kept his eyes on the table while I talked. Everything about his posture said my words made him miserable. Even after all this time he deserved that. And he knew it.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice catching. “I’ve thought about you so many times, wondered how you were, wished I had the nerve to go to your house and knock on your door.”

“That wouldn’t have been a good idea,” I said. “Even now, any member of my family would surely be happy to greet you with a baseball bat to the head.”

He flashed a quick smile. Then he grew serious. “At first I never sought you out because I was a coward. And then I thought I had no right to just pop up somewhere in your life.”

“And yet pop up you did.”

He nodded. “Accidentally. I thought I was seeing things when you walked into that room yesterday.”

I squeezed the mug between my palms. The heat from the coffee within was comforting. “What is it you want, Parker? You want me to tell you that I forgive you? You’ll be disappointed. I don’t forgive you.”

He nodded, his expression unsurprised but tired. “I can’t deny I was hoping you’d say something else but I understand. It’s really not my intention to mess with your head. I just wanted the chance to extend the apology I should have given you back then.”

A couple of girls wearing Greek letter t-shirts were laughing as they slid past our table. Their eyes settled on Parker and grudgingly I had to admit that even though he was an asshole of historic proportions he was even better looking than he’d been in high school. Light brown hair, a deep tan, the kind of sculpted profile that often graced movie screens. The girls moved on when Parker failed to exhibit any interest in them.

I sighed and took a sip of coffee. “So what have you been up to all this time? College? Military? Prison?”

He shook his head. “None of the above. I moved to Nebraska for a while. My uncle has a cattle ranch there and I was working for him. I just moved back here a few months ago.”

“Nebraska?” I tried to picture suave Parker Neely among cowboys and cornfields. The image wouldn’t quite come together.

He nodded. “Yeah. I needed to get out of here so when my uncle made the offer I jumped at it.” He paused and his shoulders wilted. “I don’t know if you heard but my mom died a few months after high school graduation.’

I hadn’t heard, probably because I was having my own problems at the time and would have avoided all news of Parker Neely. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry to hear it.”

“Aneurysm,” he explained, crumpling up a napkin in his fist. “Happened out of nowhere. My dad and I were at each other’s throats and I wanted to start over in a place where I wouldn’t run into anyone from here. My mom had been so disappointed in me after the video bullshit. I guess I wanted to become someone she would have been proud to call her son.”

I didn’t know what the hell to say so I took a sip of coffee. It was hard for me to feel sorry for Parker after everything he’d put me through. At the same time, I wouldn’t have wished that kind of loss on anyone and he sounded sincere.

“You want anything to eat?” he asked suddenly. “They have sandwiches here. And their lemon scones are out of this world.”

I checked the wall clock. Freya was probably wondering when in the hell I’d return so she’d be free to take lunch. “No. I can’t stay.”

“Maybe another time,” he said and I didn’t miss the hopeful note in his voice.

I stood up. “One question. How’d you really know I was working at Scratch?”

He shifted in his chair and averted his eyes. “I wasn’t stalking you, I swear.”

“If you say so.”

“I knew your dad was the owner so I figured it was a good place to start.”

“I see.” I set my purse strap on my shoulder. I was still mulling over whether I meant the words that were about to come out of my mouth.

“Hey, Parker?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“There’s no need for you to drop the class, all right?”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He looked so thrilled you’d think I had just agreed to run off to Cabo with him. “Thank you, Cassie.”