Page 120 of The Wrong Heart

Waiting for me?

The image steals my breath as I cross over to him from my car, greeting him with a small smile, my side braid bouncing along my shoulder in time with my steps.

Parker pulls up from the brick, tousling his hair with one hand as the other taps at the paint-smeared denim tapering his legs. “Hey.”

“Were you waiting for me?” I stop just short of him, watching his eyes case me, from my strappy sandals to my messy braid.

He swallows. “Yeah… I thought maybe you didn’t want to walk in alone. You know, after…” Parker heaves in a deep sigh, his attention shifting to the left, like he’s reining in his thoughts.

My hand lifts to grasp his bicep, squeezing gently. “That was sweet. Thank you.”

While I wouldn’t say I’m angry, I’m a little disappointed that he never contacted me after that heartfelt text last week. I messaged him the following day to see if he wanted to get together and grab lunch, but all I got was radio silence.

Parker’s jaw ticks as he stares at me, eyebrows knitted together. And then his tension releases with a long exhale, his eyes closing. “I shouldn’t have sent you that text.”

My heart sinks. “What? Why not?”

“Because it was sappy as shit, and now that it’s out there, I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Parker, it wasn’t sappy. It was beautiful and sweet.”

“It was embarrassing. You’re ruining me.”

My knee-jerk reaction is to feel outrage, to unleash my claws and sink them into him. But I reel back my emotions and try to understand him instead. His eyes look tired—swimming with confliction, worn and flustered. There’s no animosity there.

Parker genuinely has no idea what he’s doing.

He’s never been here before; he’s never had a reason to care orfeel.

He’s never had a reason to say something like that, and I know that must be terrifying. Vulnerability is terrifying, especially if it’s something he’s not accustomed to.

“Listen to me…” My fingers trail down his arm until his palm is linked with mine, and I watch as his gaze follows. “You’re not ruined. You’reevolving.”

“Into a fucking pussy, apparently.”

“No, into a three-dimensional human being with complex feelings and empathy. There’s no shame in that.”

His head swings back and forth, as if he’s rejecting my claims, but his hand clamps around mine in a desperate, possessive hold. “This wasn’t supposed to be anything more than sex. I thought fucking you would get you out of my goddamn system, but all it did was bury you deeper. Burymedeeper. Now there’s no way out.”

My insides twist. “Are you looking for a way out?”

Parker’s eyes dance back to me, clouded with confusion, like he’s being pulled in two separate directions. It’s me versus the safety net of his lifelong complacency. “No,” he murmurs softly. Then a frown furrows. “I don’t know.”

Inhaling a shuddering breath, I remove my hand from his hold and nod my head, soaking up his answer. His indecision. “I think maybe you should think about this before we take it any further,” I tell him, glancing down at the pavement beneath my shell pink toenails. “And I’m not saying that out of resentment, Parker, I’m really not. I’m saying it because Ihaveto protect myself. I have to protect my heart. I’m not sure it will survive another loss.”

When I look back up, his frown has deepened, his gaze tortured and searching. Parker’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat while he considers my words. “I’ll never intentionally hurt you, Melody.”

“Intentional or not, it doesn’t hurt any less.”

He clenches his jaw, teeth grinding together. His chin falls to his chest, a hard exhale following, and when he pulls his head back up, he’s closing the gap between us. Parker’s hands reach out to clasp my cheeks, fingertips digging into the skin and causing a gasp to escape my lips. And then his forehead is pressed against mine, our noses touching, as he rasps out, “I’m so fucked.”

He plants a hard kiss to my hairline, then bolts.

Parker leaves me there, just outside the entrance, and I watch in bafflement as he makes a hurried escape to his pick-up truck and hops inside, careening out of the parking lot with screeching tires.

My eyes water. I needed him today—I needed him to get through this first meeting without Amelia. I can hardly stand the thought of two empty chairs beside me.

Chest rattling, stomach spinning, I suck in a breath of courage and push through the main entrance, weaving down the hallway until I come across the familiar double doors.

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