Page 129 of The Wrong Heart

We straddle the line between magic and mayhem with every look, every touch, every white-hot kiss.

Tightening my grip on the latte, I reply with a nod. “Ireallylike him, Leah, and that scares me. My heart has never felt more vulnerable.”

“I think that’s the key to happiness, though, don’t you think?” Her tongue slicks along her upper lip with consideration. “If we never let our guard down, no one would ever be able to reach us.”

My thoughts drift to Parker with his steel walls and heavy armor. He never let anyone in, and his heart had become a hardened shell. He thrived on loneliness, on misery.

Maybe Leah’s right. Vulnerability is a risk, but the reward is so much greater.

I inhale a prolonged breath, soaking up her words as I sip my beverage. “He’s different… he’s different from Charlie,” I admit. “West doesn’t like him.”

Leah’s eyes roll up. “Forget West. He’s just butthurt that you didn’t go for Shane, so you could all go out for beer-infused, sports-centered group dates. His opinion is irrelevant.”

A snicker escapes me. “So, you’re Team Parker?”

“Girl, I’m Team Melody. Always have been, always will be.”

Love churns between us as we share a smile—the kind of love that’s rare and infinite. We’ve had each other’s backs from day one, and her unwavering support of me has never waned or teetered. She’s the most unselfish person I know. “You know I love you, right? I don’t tell you that enough,” I murmur, my words spilling from the purest place.

Leah crinkles her button nose at me, taking a sip of her espresso before replying. “You don’t need to tell me, babygirl,” she says with a wink. Her unnaturally long eyelashes flutter with warmth. “The loudest love is wordless.”

It’s been the perfect day.

Coffee and chitchat with my best friend, a mini-spa day in which I indulged in a facial and hot stone massage, some bonding time with Nutmeg as I let the curious hamster explore the guest bedroom, and then dinner with West and my parents, featuring my favorite meal: Mexican lasagna, Spanish rice, a southwest salad, and spicy cornbread rolls. Mom makes everything from scratch, including the rich sheaths of pasta, and it’s a meal I look forward to every single year.

Normally, I’d be dying on the couch from a carb coma at this point, playing Yahtzee with my family and trying to keep my overly competitive brother from throwing the dice across the room, but tonight the celebration is cut short when the clock strikes seven.

I have another celebration waiting for me.

Saying my heartfelt goodbyes, I practically race out the door, shooting Parker a quick text as I hop into my car.

Me:On the way :)

He responds instantly.

Parker:I’m here.

My heart thunders beneath my ribs, firing its curious beats. His blasé messages leave me with little indication of what he has planned, but that doesn’t stop my mind from hashing out every potential scenario as I make the fifteen-minute drive over to the lake.

I think back over the last two weeks, wondering if he left me any clues. Any breadcrumbs. We’ve only seen each other a handful of times due to his chaotic work schedule, but when we did…

Oof.

Tingles spark to life as flickering flames, igniting low in my belly and spreading through me like a forest fire. Parker brings suchpassionto our sexual encounters, such heat. I never expected that side of him—the raw hunger and need. The desire to claim me in any way he can, to devour me, to possess me, body and soul.

The words he says, the way he holds me.

It’s intoxicating.

That, combined with our undeniable chemistry, is a lethal elixir that has me equally frightened and thirsty for more.

When I pull into the familiar parking lot, I spot his truck first, sitting idle in the otherwise empty lot. My heartrate picks up speed, nearly choking me as I slide into the spot beside him and rein in a steadying breath.

Then I slip from the driver’s side and pace around his truck, which was hindering my view, and my limbs go still, my flip-flops sticking to the cement like putty.

Parker is perched in the sand a few feet away, sitting atop a checkered blanket. Walden rests beside him with his chin tucked between two bony paws, his furry head only poking up when he spots me across the beach.

Swallowing, I move in closer. Parker is leaning back on his palms, legs outstretched with something resting between them. I squint my eyes through the hazy setting sun.

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