Page 75 of The Wrong Heart

“Or maybe she’s a hamster.” Parker adds his commentary with his arms folded across a well-worn t-shirt as he leans back, his body language oozing casual indifference. But his features look softer somehow, his eyes shimmering when they slide over to me, then back to Amelia. “That could be it.”

“She’s very domesticated and highly intelligent,” Amelia counters, lifting her chin. “I’ll bring her to a meeting some time. You’ll see.”

Parker offers a shoulder shrug, his disposition more playful than hostile. “I’m exploding with anticipation.”

“I can tell. You look like you might do something extreme—like smile.”

“I might.”

His eyes float back to me as he replies, and I look away, worrying my lip between my teeth. That evening in my basement stomps through my mind with angry steps and steel-toed boots, inciting me to cross my legs and fidget with the fringe along my jean shorts.

I don’t understand it. I don’t understandhim.

He claims to not like women, yet he held me on his lap like a lover, fisting my hair and digging contradictory evidence to his claim into my thigh.

He’s never kissed anyone before, yet he allowed our lips to brush together through the cloak of darkness, his body trembling beneath my weight, his chaotic heart vibrating straight to my core.

He acts like he doesn’t care about anything, yet he stuck around to help me clean up the neighborhood, silent and stoic for the most part, looking wildly uncomfortable, but hestayed.

And then he ignored my text last night—he left me onread.

It’s not as if I expected him to accept the offer, but he ghosted me when I took a leap of faith and offered him a raw, unguarded piece of myself… and I hate admitting how much that hurt.

Parker’s eyes continue to dig into me from a few feet away, and my lungs feel tight, my skin warming beneath the heat of his gaze. I wonder what he’s thinking. I wonder what he sees when he watches me like this, so bold and unabashed.

My cheeks grow hot, but I refuse to turn my head towards him, instead focusing on a little string dangling from the hemline of my shorts, longer than all the others. I pretend it’s the most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen as I coil it around my pinky.

When the meeting wraps up, fellow members linger for chitchat, strengthening the bonds they’ve established with kindred survivors. Amelia fills me in on an anime series she’s been watching, and as her words trickle into my ears, my focus wanes, shifting over to Parker. He taps his foot against the shiny flooring, appearing twitchy and restless, hesitating for a few beats before rising from the chair.

Then he paces to the double doors and pushes through, disappearing from my sight.

I straighten, compelled to follow.

“Go ahead, you’re fine. We can talk another day.”

Amelia’s voice steals my attention, and I falter. “What?”

“You looked like you wanted to go after Parker. You can if you want. I don’t mind.”

“Oh, I…” Swallowing, I pick at the emblem on my handbag and clear my throat. “No, I’m sorry. I’m listening.”

“Were you?” she teases, nudging me with her bony shoulder.

“Definitely. The show with the nuts.”

“The nuts?”

“Macadamias.”

“It’s actually…My Hero Academia.”

I blink. “Oh.”

Amelia nearly doubles over with laughter, cupping a hand around her violet-lined lips. “Go, will you?” she orders, her giggles diffusing. “He’s probably waiting for you.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Why? It’s obvious he likes you.”

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