Page 35 of Parker

It takes me a second to realize—one, it’s morning, and two, I was dreaming.

I clench my jaw and throw an arm over my eyes.

I was dreaming of Quinn.

Still breathing shallow and fast, I slide my hand over my stomach and under my panties, which are drenched. My sex is slick with cum, and I realize that I must have orgasmed in my sleep, but my clit is throbbing for another release.

My middle finger slides easily between the soft folds, and I gasp as an image of Quinn Morgan, answering his hotel door in a towel, floods my brain. I bite my lower lip to punish myself, the copper taste of blood dripping onto my tongue.

Don’t think about him, I think, rubbing the tight, puckered nub in faster circles.Think about someone else. The guy dating Zendaya…or—or the Harry Potter guy. He’s gotten hot, right? Or…or…or Austin something-or-other! The Elvis guy. He’s so gorgeous…

Except I can feel my body losing momentum. My clit still throbs, but my head’s killing the experience.Fuck it. Fine! Just this once!I picture Quinn sitting on the edge of his bed, his hair still damp and tousled from his shower, his chest bare, a steak in front of him and a glass of wine at his lips.

My body spasms almost immediately, my pelvis jerking off the bed as warm waves make me shake and shiver under the covers.

When my orgasm subsides, I lift my arm, open my eyes and groan.

What thefuckis going on with me?

Whipping off the covers, I march to the bathroom, turning on the shower and stepping into its bracing, pelting warmth.

“I’mnotattracted to Quinn Morgan,” I say aloud, hoping thathearingthe words will make them so, but all I hear is the tinny rasp of a lie.

Here are the facts:

I was pissed when those girls in the lounge were bitchy to him.

I was jealous when he had lunch with Skylar.

I was touched by his apology in the car.

I was attracted to him in his hotel room last night.

“…and you just got off while picturing him,” I add, my voice echoing off the marble walls of the shower stall, full of disgust. “Yuck.”

Last night, when Harper said he was in love with me, I felt such resistance to her words, such defiance. Part of that feeling was a reaction to the way I’ve always felt about Quinn (i.e.,wehate each other and always have)…but part of it, I have to admit, may have been that I felt embarrassed about being so clueless.

How did I miss the fact that my literal nemesis has romantic feelings for me?

I lather my hair with shampoo, wondering if the main reason I went to his room last night was to look into his eyes and try to gauge the veracity of my sister’s claim.

So…is Harper right?

Unfortunately, I have no clear answer to this question.

Emotionally-speaking, I’m confused. Only one thing seems to be coming into clear focus. After a lifetime of vitriol, I don’t hate Quinn Morgan anymore.

After our talk in the car and Quinn’s apology, I can’t hate him anymore. I’m not petty like that. Once an apology has been given and accepted, there’s no place for hate…which means that the Quinn Morgan-Parker Stewart status quo that I’ve accepted for most of my life is suddenly gone.

What’s left in its place?

I don’t know.

Where I once felt annoyance to the point of loathing, there’s now a tentative peace.Emotionalpeace only, however, because physically-speaking, I’m feeling more hot and bothered by him than ever before. Quinn Morgan, someone whom I never really allowed myself to consider attractive, is suddenly inspiring the sexiest dreams I’ve ever had.

I once read this article online that said hate and love use the same brain circuits. It makes sense, right? I mean, both emotions are profoundly intense, and both are strong behavioral motivators. If Harper’s right, it’s possible that for Quinn, the jump from hate to love, at some point or another, wasn’t so far. But for me? I picture a wide chasm between the two emotions. Imay not hate Quinn anymore, but I certainly don’t feel love for him. I’m not even sure I feellike.

Which is why my newly discovered,and scorching hot,attraction to Quinn is so confusing and unwelcome. I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t see it coming. I don’t like it. I don’t want it. And I have no idea what to do with it now that it’s here.

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