Page 60 of Mother Parker
I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t think.
His hair had magically changed colors again. It was silvery blond, and it made him breathtaking. Saliva wedged in my throat, and I knew I should be choking on it, but I couldn’t stop staring, and I didn’t care.
“Are you okay?”
A hand—his hand—touched my shoulder gently, and it burned my skin. I could almost smell the smoke.
But it was all in my head, after all.
Both heads.
Fuck. What’s happening to me?
“Do I need to train you on how to open doors now?” he asked, brushing past me with a grin. “Look, here. You touch the knob and…twist.”
The door opened, and with that, I was able to breathe again.
“You’re funny,” I told him, deadpan.
“Girl, I know.” He chuckled.
Even that made the ache in my body—and let’s be honest, in my pants—stronger.
This was such a bad idea. What did I think I would get from tonight? An answer? A lay? A hit on the head?
“Well, don’t just stand there. I promise I don’t bite,” he said, walking down a hallway that led to an open-plan kitchen and living room. “Much,” he added with a mutter as if I couldn’t hear it.
“Eh, yeah. Sorry,” I said and walked in, closing the door behind me.
When I reached the kitchen, he was already over by the stove, stirring something in a pot. Steam lingered in the air and fogged the windows. A mix of spice and sweetness made me salivate again, this time for the food he was preparing.
“Do you have, like, an off switch? Do I need to turn you on or something?” he asked.
“What?” My eyes popped, and I looked at him, only to be met with a huge smirk and a sinful gaze.
He didn’t need to do anything. I already was. I just hoped he couldn’t tell.
“You’re being weird. Stop being weird and get your butt over here because I need help,” he said.
He was right, of course.
I was overthinking this. Hwan had only invited me for dinner. It didn’t mean this was a date. It didn’t mean he wanted anything from me other than what he’d said. To get to know me better.
So stop making it weird and get with the program, idiot.
“Sorry. Yeah. Wh-what do you need me to do?”
I clapped my hands together, brushed off whatever crap had been diluting my mind, and joined him at the stove.
“For starters, open the fridge and take out the beef. It’s in a plastic container,” he said, and I did as I was told.
The container in question was quite large, and the beef slices were swimming in a marinade.
“Thank you,” he said with a huge smile, taking the box from me. “Now, can you get me the skillet from that cabinet?”
I narrowed my eyes and followed his gaze. I didn’t miss the smirk creeping up his face.
