Page 102 of The Wrong Heart

“No, they’re not. Scars mean you survived something terrible. There’s nothing ugly about that.”

I gulp back the tight lump in my throat. “I’ll never have a girlfriend one day. I’ll always be alone.”

Bree’s thick eyebrows crease, almost like she’s absorbing my pain, and it hurts her, too. She straightens from the tree. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s the truth.”

“It’s not the truth, Parker. You are so much more than your scars—you’re smart, you’re funny, you’re creative. And look at those dazzling green eyes and that dreamy bone structure.” She leans in to ruffle my mop of dark hair, shooting me a wink. “You’ll have no problem getting a girlfriend one day.”

A smile slips out when I duck my head, but it fades as the dark cloud rolls back in. It does that a lot lately. Bree’s presence and kindness will always be a welcome reprieve from the storm, but she’s only one person. My ghosts and devils seem to be multiplying, and she’s far too outnumbered.

Fidgeting with the hem of my shirt, I reply, “Once she sees my scars, she’ll leave.”

A weighty silence settles between us as a light breeze blows through and the willow branches dance to life.

A zephyr.

Bree reaches out and takes my hand, pulling it away from the fabric of my t-shirt, the only thing that hides the truth, and dusting her thumb along my knuckles. When I look up, she is smiling. “No, Parker. Once she sees your scars, she’ll love you even more.”

—TWENTY-FOUR—

I’m not sure what to expectwhen we pull into the long, gravel driveway after a silent trip over from the bar, but a charming, ranch-style house with ruddy bricks, dark gray shutters, and simple yet effective landscaping is a pleasant surprise. Even though the sun has set, a light shines ambience onto the quaint front porch as my eyes roll over the large property.

There’s a carport to the right, housing what looks to be pieces of furniture in progress, as well as a separate one-car garage. The yard is well maintained despite a scattering of tools, and the home is quiet and secluded, settled far back beyond the main stretch of road. A little oasis.

My feet crunch atop the gravel as I hop out of Parker’s truck and meet him around the front of the hood, hardly able to make out his expression against the shadowy night. The silence stretches from inside the vehicle to the space between us, and while the air is dense and muggy, the tension between us is thicker.

Jitters coast through me, dancing along my skin and tickling my insides. A subtle glow from the moon and stars above illuminate two dithering green eyes boring into me.

I swallow. “Your house looks nice.”

Parker slides his hands into his pockets, glancing towards the house, then back to me. “I built it.”

I feel my breath catch as his words register. “You did?”

His mute nod is barely visible as his eyes skim my face.

“That’s…” The humidity almost chokes me, or maybe that’s my heart in my throat. I can’t help a smile from breaking through my nerves when the thought of Parker building his home from the ground up assaults me like a bear hug. “That’s really remarkable.”

“It was something to do at the time, I guess.” He dismisses the exceptionality of such a feat with a sniff and shuffles past me towards the front of the house. When I continue to stand there, a little bit slack-jawed, he pauses to inquire, “You coming?”

Am I?

My head turns to face him, lip caught between my teeth. He’s nothing but a tall shadow beckoning me further into the unknown.

He brought me here for sex. I knew that when I got into his truck, ditching my date for the evening like a total jerk and frantically sending Leah a text of apology, begging her to tell Shane and my brother that I wasn’t feeling well and decided to head home early.

Yeah, right.There’s no way they’re going to believe that after I walked out of the bar with Parker, who left no mystery as to what his intentions were.

Leah texted me back almost instantly:

Leah:GET IT GIRL! I got your back. *a dozen eggplant emojis*

A sigh escapes me, another smile lifting, and I nod my acquiescence, trailing behind him as he resumes his trek to the front door. Following him inside the darkened house, Parker flips a light on when we enter, and I notice movement out of the corner of my eye.

My head shifts to the right.

A dog.