“Travis,” Akio’s voice cut through the moment, bringing me back to reality. “Are you falling for Parker?”
The question hit me like a line drive to the chest. I closed my eyes, sifting through the jumbled emotions—joy, fear, longing—all circling back to one person: Parker. With a deep breath, I opened my eyes and admitted the truth.“Yeah, I think I am,” I confessed, feeling a weight lift and another settle in its place. “What am I going to do?”
“Travis,” Morgan said, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees, concern etched into his features. “You’re going to have to let those feelings go. Parker has a boyfriend.”
I felt my stomach drop at Morgan’s words, even though I knew he was right. “I know,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “Trust me, I know. It’s just—easier said than done, you know?”
Akio’s brow furrowed. “Have you thought about talking to Parker about how you feel? Maybe if you get it out in the open, it’ll be easier to move past these feelings.”
I shook my head vehemently. “No way. I can’t risk messing up our friendship or our working relationship. Plus, what would I even say? ‘Hey Parker, I know you’re happily committed to David, but I can’t stop thinking about you’? Yeah, that’d go over well.”
Morgan eyed me seriously. “Whatever you decide to do, just promise you’ll be careful.”
My teeth clenched tightly. “I’m not going to do anything to ruin his relationship.”
“I meant be careful with your heart. We don’t want to see you get hurt,” Morgan said gently.
My shoulders slumped, my anger disappearing as quickly as it had flared. “You guys are the best. I don’t deserve you.”
“That’s what I keep telling Akio,” Morgan deadpanned.
It took a second for his words to hit me and then I threw a pillow at his head. He dodged it easily, grinning proudly at his own joke as Akio laughed.
“Alright, assholes. I’m gonna head out.”
“Hey! I was being nice. Why am I an asshole?” Akio argued as we all stood up.
I grabbed him up in a big hug. “I’m sorry. You’re not. You’re just married to one.”
Morgan gave my arm a playful punch and pulled his husband to his side. “Don’t tell him that. It might scare him away.”
Akio wrapped his arms around Morgan’s waist and stared up at him adoringly. “Nah. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
I made gagging noises as the two of them kissed, but I was only teasing. Where I used to feel that such overt displays of affection were revolting, now, I just felt jealous. Jealous that they were free to be with the person they cared about most in the world, free to show their true feelings.
I said goodbye then stepped outside. The laughter and warmth from Akio and Morgan’s house receded with each step I took away from it, leaving me to confront the cold truth—I liked Parker, really liked him. Not just as a friend or a co-worker, but in a way that made me want to be there for his every frown and smile.
With every stride towards my car, memories of time spent with Parker played like a highlight reel in my mind—the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed, how his voice softened when he shared stories of his small-town life. Those were the happiest times of my life, yet they felt like borrowed moments now, knowing he belonged to someone else.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath, jamming my hands into my pockets. My friends’ advice echoed in my ears: back off. I knew they were right, but it didn’t make the realization any less painful. Parker had a boyfriend, a life built with another man. There was no future for us, not even a sliver of possibility.
Determined to shake off the melancholy clinging to me like a second skin, I pointed my car to the one place I knew could distract me—Whipped. The club’s neon sign hummed a siren song, beckoning me inside. The bass throbbed through the walls, a pulse that promised oblivion. I snagged a drink at the bar, the liquid courage barely making a dent in the lump lodged in mythroat. It wasn’t long before I found myself on the dance floor, the thrum of music vibrating through my bones.
That’s when he sidled up to me—a tall guy with sharp features and a come-hither smile. His hands found my waist, guiding me to the rhythm. I let myself get swept up in the dance, his body pressed flush against mine. He moved with confidence, his fingers tracing the lines of muscle down my back. For a moment, I closed my eyes and surrendered to the fantasy—the idea that it was Parker behind me, whispering sweet nothings with a voice that sent shivers down my spine.
“Imagine what I could do to you off this dance floor,” the man murmured, his breath hot against my ear.
My eyes snapped open, and reality crashed over me. I peeled myself away from the stranger, his touch leaving a cold void as I stepped back. The room spun slightly, the strobe lights and colored beams creating a kaleidoscope of confusion that mirrored the turmoil inside me. I needed air, space, something solid to ground me. My feet carried me through the sea of writhing bodies and out into the cool night.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath, rubbing the back of my neck with a shaky hand. The alley behind Whipped was empty except for a few scattered cigarette butts and the distant echo of laughter from the street beyond. I leaned against the cold brick wall, letting its roughness press into my skin.
It’s just a crush, Travis. It’ll pass.But even those words sounded hollow now. With a deep sigh, I pushed off the wall, climbed into my car, and started the drive home. My thoughts kept drifting back to Parker. How could someone who was only supposed to be a colleague, a friend, sneak into every corner of my mind?
When I finally reached my condo, I was exhausted. I ran a hand through my hair before collapsing onto the couch. In the dark, the outlines of my furniture were familiar shapes ina world that suddenly felt very unfamiliar. “Get it together,” I whispered into the emptiness around me. But there was no conviction behind the words.
Closing my eyes, I tried to conjure up images of past flings, of nameless faces and fleeting moments of pleasure, but they all paled in comparison to the memory of Parker’s shy smile. The way he’d hesitate before speaking, like he was choosing his words carefully, not wanting to waste a single one. It was endearing, frustrating, and absolutely maddening.
“Damn it.” I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes, willing away the image of him.