Page 57 of The Wrong Heart

“Put the claws away, Tiger.” West gives her a blatant once-over, then shoots her a wink. “For the time being, anyway.”

“Gross.”

“Can we stop with the sexual innuendos while we’re standing in my flooded kitchen?”

West demonstrates his maturity by stepping into the living room with a sly grin. “I’m just saying, if you’re looking to start dating again, you should let Shane take you out. He’s divorced, stable, pays his taxes. No felonies at the moment.”

“I’m not looking to date.”

It’s the truth—I’m not. The thought of dinner dates, hand-holding, inside jokes, all with someone who isn’t Charlie, makes my insides twist with dread. It makes meache.

I have no idea what my brother thinks he saw with Parker. The man is an emotionally-stunted bully, void of feelings, lacking in empathy, zero sense of humor.

He’s nothing like Charlie.

And I think that’s why I feel so disgusted with the way my body has been reacting to him lately—all tingly and starved, like it’s craving something only he can give. The way he looks at me sometimes, dark and heated,penetrative, sends my heart into a tailspin and my lungs into overdrive.

It’s confusing. Maddening.

Parker is the opposite of me in every way, the antithesis to my very soul, and yet I’m drawn to him somehow. There’s a darkness inside of him that speaks to my light. He was right when he said I wanted to fix him because Ido. My nurturing heart wants to glue his pieces back together until he’s whole again. I’m yearning to see him smile. Laugh.

To let go and feel free, even for just a moment.

And then there’s a part of me that wonders if I’m just lonely, and I’m latching on to the first attractive man who walks into my life because I miss having a warm body wrapped around me. I miss strong arms holding me tight, keeping me safe and protected.

I miss intimacy.

I miss bear hugs and grand kisses.

I miss sex.

Charlie is the only man I’ve ever been with. I gave him my virginity and my heart beneath a starless August sky, and I never looked back.

But now I’m forced to look forward without him, and it’s daunting.Terrifying. I don’t know which way to turn because every direction feels like it drags me farther and farther away fromhim.

I’m jolted out of my musings when Leah leans in and throws an arm around me, tugging me to her. “Don’t listen to him, babygirl. He’s still single for a reason.”

“I’m holding out foryou, Leah.”

My sigh is heavy with annoyance. “West, I don’t want to date anyone. I’m not ready for that yet. Parker is just… a friend. Sort of.”

Parker’s words echo in my mind, harsh and haunting:I’m not your friend, and I’m sure as hell not your next fuck.

His words hurt, I’ll give him that, but I refused to give him a reaction. I refused to givemyselfa reaction. I’m done being angry.

“Whatever you say, Mel,” West says, wringing out water from the saturated towels into metal pots. “I’ll call Shane and send him over to look at the pipes. If you can’t get a hold of your “sort-of-friend,” I’ll see if Dad has some referrals to get your ceiling fixed.”

I swallow. “Thanks.”

West takes off an hour later after helping us unflood the kitchen, only getting into two water fights with Leah, and Leah stays behind to help me finish up. I’m shoveling drywall and insulation into garbage bags when my backside vibrates from a cell phone notification.

I can’t help the organic smile from blooming on my lips when his message pops up.

Zephyr.

Zephyr:Did you know the hashtag symbol is actually called an “octothorpe?” It means “eight mystery.” I feel like this needs to catch on. Regardless, it would make a pretty epic band name. This concludes my random fact of the day.

Oh, Zephyr.

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