Page 86 of The Wrong Heart

So much to disinfect.

The storm clouds release a mighty downpour as I tilt my chin up and face the sky, closing my eyes and whispering a desperate plea. “I’m lost, Charlie. Tell me what to do.”

Thunder rumbles in the distance, vibrating right through me, and that’s when I hear it.

The sound of a familiar engine rolls up to the front of my house as tires screech to a halt and a car door slams shut.

No way.

Frowning, I swiftly pace over to the side of the house, drawing to a stand when I see him stalking through my lawn towards the front door, his face masked with harsh intensity—like he’s on a mission.

Parker nearly stumbles to a halt when he spots me standing in the backyard, staring at him with a healthy mix of confusion and hostility.

Why is he here?

I don’t want him here. He toldmeto stay away fromhim.

I cross my arms over my chest with an air of defensiveness, and also to hide the fact that rain doesn’t mesh very well with thin, white cotton.

Parker’s expression darkens, his features tightening as he shifts direction and charges toward me. “You’re fuckin’ soaked and half naked,” he grits out through the heavy rain showers, slicking his hair back as he approaches.

My face twists with disdain, and I turn my back to him, stomping away like a petulant child.

“Melody.”

“Go home, Parker,” I order, throwing him a glare over my shoulder. “You’re not welcome here.”

He catches my wrist to spin me around, and I almost slip on the wet grass.

My arm pulls free like he just scalded me. “Don’t! Don’t touch me.”

“Goddammit, will you stop?”

“Why are you here?” I demand, chest heaving, outrage escalating. “You were pretty loud and clear at the lake tonight. I’m just a nuisance to you. A thorn in your side, a gnat in your ear. A fly in your fucking soup.”

Parker opens his mouth to respond, to make his intentions known, but his tongue freezes and he hesitates. He just kind of stares at me for a moment, his brows pinching together like he’s trying to work through something, or maybe he’s just angry and agitated like he always is.

I try again, forcing myself to soften. “Why are you here?”

He swallows. “I…” Parker trails off, seemingly unable to get the words out. His whole body tenses, the muscles in his jaw ticking when his eyes dip down, raking over me and lingering on my partially exposed breasts plastered against the now see-through tank top. He flicks his attention back to my face, his gaze hot and stormy. “You drive me fucking mad.”

My arms shoot up to block his view of my chest, my defenses flaring back to life. “If you came over to insult me, I’m not interested. I’ve had a really shitty day that you’ll be pleased to know you contributed to.”

“You think that pleases me?”

“Yes, I do.”

Parker swipes dark, wet hair from his forehead, letting out a grunt of exasperation. “That doesn’t please me, Melody. You want to know what pleases me?” He advances on me like a hungry predator. “Not giving a shit. Notcaring. Being alone, keeping to myself, and not giving a flying fuck about whether or not you’re still out in that lake, broken-hearted, or at home crying yourself to sleep, thinking you’re not good enough for an asshole like me.”

I refuse to let his words chip away my armor. “You’re flattering yourself. I’mfine.”

“You don't get it,” he shakes his head. “I'm supposed to hate you. I'm supposed to hate everything you stand for. Now, all I want to do is fuck you.” Parker yanks my arms apart, putting my breasts back on display for his eyes to drink me in. His voice lowers, the words cracking. “What the hell are you doing to me?"

My body heats, my pulse throbbing as his fingers tighten their grip on my wrists. My angry breaths of indignation turn shaky and uneven. "I'm just being me.”

"Yeah,” he mutters, hardly a whisper. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Parker inches closer to me, and I squeeze my eyes shut, my heartrate quickening.

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