Page 37 of Untouchable

It's the weirdest impasse.Harp wants to know more about Parker's family, but at the same time, asking anything opens him up to being asked the same things—and if he forces Parker to trot out his family tree, it will be rude not to do so for the Harpers in turn.

In the lull of conversation after he has so eloquently declared fuck 'em about a group of people he's never met or will ever meet, as if isolating yourself from your family was a decision to be made with such a cavalier attitude, Harp feels himself losing momentum.

He's been out of the house too long. His focus blows open suddenly to include the entire restaurant, the diners who have filed in as Parker and Harp ate.

All at once, it's a lot to deal with.

But for a few minutes... it hadn't. He'd been able to forget they weren't sitting in his own kitchen at home.

Harp only realizes that he's eaten everything in front of him—including the garnishes—when he runs out of things to eat and frowns up at Parker.

Jesus, you're lethal for conversations,Harp tells himself.

"You ready?" he asks Parker, trying to sound less like a drowning man than he feels.

* * *

Parker glancesat his phone and jumps up, making Harp flinch.

“Shit—” he says. “We’re late—fuck—” He quickly starts stacking their plates to bus them. He’d gotten so wrapped up in—well, wrapped up in Harp, in Harp’s attention, in Harp’s presence, that he’d completely forgotten why Harp was even in town.

He’s not here to see you. He’s here for an appointment with Dr. Breen.

He grabs Mindy’s to-go order, which has been sitting, abandoned on the counter, waiting for him, and glances at Harp, feeling harried.

“Fuck,” he says again. “Sorry about that.”

They cross the strip mall back to the office.

“Sorry, Mindy—we lost track of time,” Parker says. It’s relatively quiet this time of day—the worst of the rush comes later in the afternoon, when people are taking off early from work for their appointments. Mindy leans back in her desk chair, raising one carefully plucked eyebrow as Parker drops her food down in front of her. “But I did bring you lunch so you can’t be that mad at me.”

He turns back to Harp, who’s still hovering by the door. For a brief, paranoid moment, Parker wonders if Harp understands why Mindy made that face at Parker, if somehow Harp knows about the little crush simmering inside Parker that he can barely keep a lid on.

“Er, Mindy will get you checked in with Dr. Breen,” Parker says. He ducks into the bathroom to wash his hands, and when he reappears, Dr. Breen has already taken Harp back into his office.

Mindy pounces on Parker immediately.

“So, is it official?” she says loudly. “Have you sent out wedding invitations yet?”

“Fuck off,” Parker hisses, turning bright red. He steps behind the check-in desk and pokes her in the shoulder. “And not so loud.”

“Oh, come on,” Mindy says with a bright, tinkly laugh. “No one can hear us. And besides, as your best friend, I’m allowed to give you shit when you’re going on lunch dates with guys.”

“It wasn’t a date,” Parker grumbles, leaning up against the desk. Mindy rolls her eyes as she begins carefully eating the salad Parker brought her.

“Thank you, by the way,” she says, gesturing down at the meal. “And, please, I’ve known you for years. I know that googly-eyed look. That was definitely a date.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not sure he would agree,” Parker said. “It’s just—look, it was just to—to pay him back for giving me leftovers, and—”

“Yeah, because that was also totally normal and platonic and not, like, the cutest thing ever.”

“Stop it,” Parker begs. “Just—look. It’s—it’s… Please don’t tease me about this, okay?”

Mindy catches his hand, her expression suddenly serious.

“Whoa, you really do like him, don’t you?”

Parker squirms under the force of her ice-blue gaze.

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