Page 281 of Untouchable

Harp can't bear the thought of sleeping in his own bedroom tonight, which feels like an abrupt reminder of how alone he's about to go back to being when Gil leaves tomorrow. He feeds the dogs and pounds water and eventually he hears Gil come in behind him.

"I'm gonna be hungover in the morning," Harp says, "but I'll get up to see you off."

"You're not going to drive me?"

Harp shakes his head. He can't think of anything he'd like to do less tomorrow than spending his day on the highway in uncomfortable silence with his brother. "I'll call you a car to Denver—or you can, when you get up and just put it on my card."

He drops an empty glass a little too loud into the sink and makes his way to the main-floor guest room. Maybe it'll be a little less miserable, sleeping with the dogs pressed in around him.

"Night, Gil. I'll set an alarm and see you for breakfast."

* * *

When Parker gets home,Mindy is curled up on the couch with her boyfriend of the week, and Parker mumbles something, giving her a feeble wave before ducking his head so she can’t see he’s been crying. He disappears into his room and kicks off his shoes and pants, crawling into bed. He expects the crying to come full force once he is safely stowed away in his bed, but he feels emptied out, hollow and small.

Less than a minute later, though, there’s a soft knock at his door and Mindy sticks her head in.

“Parker?” she says. “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing—” Parker sniffles. “I’ll tell you about it later—just enjoy your date, okay?”

"Oh hell no," Mindy says, frowning. She disappears and Parker hears low voices from the living room.

"Seriously, Mindy?" a deep voice demands after a beat of silence.

"Yes, seriously, Adam," Mindy says, louder. "I'll see you later this week."

There's shuffling for a moment, more voices, and then Mindy is back at Parker's bedroom door with the open bottle of wine she'd been sharing with the guy and two mugs.

"I'll murder him," Mindy says primly, putting the mugs down on Parker’s desk and beginning to pour the wine.

“Mindy—” Parker protests weakly. “Really, it’s not that big a deal.”

Mindy rolls her eyes.

“Parker, you came home from Christmas with your boyfriend crying. How is that not a big deal? Unless, like, the dick was just so good that these are tears of joy.”

Parker can’t help laughing.

“Um, no. Not quite.” He heaves a sigh. “The first part was… amazing. And then… his little brother showed up and… it went downhill from there.”

"His little brother showed up?" Mindy says, scrunching up her face. “To your romantic Christmas holiday?”

"Unfortunately," Parker says.

"I'm guessing he's also a little shit? Should I add him to my list?"

"Please don't murder my boyfriend's little brother," Parker says lamely, even though he'd love to see Mindy take him down a few pegs.

"Do you want wine? Do you want to talk about it?"

"No wine," Parker whines. "I've already had too much to drink."

Mindy makes a sad noise and crawls into bed with Parker.

Parker scoots over as Mindy slides underneath the comforter next to him and wriggles to lay his head on her shoulder. It’s nothing like the solid warmth and security of curling up against Harp, but there’s a certain comfortable familiarity of snuggling up to Mindy, a sense that, whether it’s Parker or Mindy who is being consoled, things will work out in the end, because they always do.

“Christmas was so perfect,” he says sadly. “I mean, you saw the pictures I sent you. And we had… god, Mindy, it was, like, the best sex of my life. And I, uh… may have told him I loved him—”

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