Page 32 of Untouchable

They sit in silence for a moment, and it’s not nearly as bad as Harp had braced himself for. It’s almost flattering how happy Parker seems to be at having gotten Harp out of his house, now that he thinks about it.

Careful, Harp, he thinks. If there's one thing that's dangerous, it's Harp's own ego.

“So—are you—are you from Colorado?” Parker blurts out after a moment.

Normally the question would make Harp bristle—the implication usually being "You have no idea what you're doing in this state, right?"

But Parker is so unassuming it's impossible to take the question the wrong way.

"No, north Florida. If you've never been, you're not missing anything. Picture the opposite of here, throw in some gators, and you've got it."

Parker laughs and Harp remembers for once what it feels like to actually land a joke. He smiles at Parker.

“Really?” Parker asks. “I would have thought you were from… Montana or Idaho or something. I can’t picture you on a beach.”

Harp snorts. "No, I know. It wasn't a good fit."

And it's true: he'd always felt more at home in the mountains. When he'd ventured out of the flat peninsula in his twenties, seeing mountains for the first time had been like coming home.

Not that you should... say that out loud to someone you've just met.

"How about you? You've gotta be from Beaver Creek or something, right?"

“Wait—why’d you leave?” Parker asks. “Like, school or something?”

"No, I stayed in Florida until I was probably near your age. Went to school there because it was still nearly free when I was a kid. I left because it was too hot, and there was a church on every block," Harp said, only half-lying.

“How’d you choose Colorado, though?” Parker persists, leaning in over the table. “You just… chose a new place and went there? Wasn’t that… scary?” He sounds a little awed.

"It wasn't the first place I landed. It was just the first place for me."

Harp almost wouldn't mind talking about how frightening it was, the first time he moved without the support of his family. He almost wants to tell Parker about all of the different places he tried before he found Storm Mountain. But he doesn't want to bore the guy.

* * *

“Where else did you go?”Parker starts, then cuts himself off, looking down at the straw that he’s thoroughly pulverized by now. “Sorry—you don’t have to talk about it—it’s just—I mean—I’ve never lived anywhere but Denver or here, you know? I guess I’m pretty boring, so it’s… it’s cool.”

"I tried a lot of unlikely spots—Florida Keys, upstate New York, east coast, west coast. Places are more alike in the end than you think," Harp says. He pauses. "And you're not boring."

Parker opens his mouth to disagree but Harp barrels forward.

"Or maybe you're so boring that it laps itself and loops around to become interesting," Harp insists.

Parker snorts, but he can’t help smiling, as though Harp has stoked a warm little ember inside of him. He’s always had trouble keeping his mouth shut, but, as some people were quick to point out, he never had much to say. It’s strange, too, how when Harp jokes about Parker being boring, it doesn’t hurt. The last guy Parker had dated made jokes like this, but there was often a cruel edge to them, especially towards the end of their relationship.

With Harp, though, it’s deceptively easy to believe that he really means it. That he really does care what Parker has to say.

“Oh, please,” Parker says. “You’re the one who lives in this gorgeous cabin on top of a mountain and is from Florida and does—whatever you do for a living—and has a bunch of dogs and knows how to cook and—” Parker blushes, realizes he’s basically been writing an elementary school Valentine to Harp in a sandwich shop. “I don’t do much besides… work and the gym. And I don’t have anydogs.”

"Not yet. You're charming Bo out from under me with every visit," Harp says, smiling. "Don't think I can't see you, seducing my dog."

* * *

What the hell is happening, Harp wonders with some urgency. This is not the professional Parker of their sessions. He's seen a mere glimpse of this person—and don't get Harp wrong, he's liked what he's seen. But he didn't expect to get access to... whatever version of Parker this is.

He's very cute, Harp thinks abruptly. His stomach is suddenly sitting in his work boots.

Parker’s expression goes dead serious, his mouth dropping open in surprise. “Shit,” Parker says. “I thought I was being sneaky.”

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