Page 20 of Parker
“So,” she says, “we’re aiming for classy but sexy, with an undercurrent of slutty.”
I laugh at her summary. “Sounds about right.”
“There’s no point pretending you’re not a slut.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Considering you spread your legs for him last night after three hours of his company.”
I flush. Her words hit me like a freight train. Yesterday, I was a complete and utter whore. So much for growing up in prison. A sexy man comes on to me, and I fall straight onto his dick. But to be fair, Joel Parker is the most gorgeous man, and the incredible orgasms are one hundred percent worth having loose morals for.
“Wait until you see him, Soph,” I tell her again.
She smiles softly, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Concern lingers there, unspoken.
“He’s wonderful.”
“Nicky, I don’t want to rain on your parade,” she says.
“But you’re about to.” I try, but fail, to stop my face looking like I’ve sucked on a lemon.
“No, but please be careful. I don’t want to see you hurt just after you’re back with us.” She stares at me, and her voice drops. “I can’t lose my best friend again.”
Tears spring to my eyes. The lump in my throat grows too big to swallow. We hold each other for what feels like a lifetime. Sophie was the only person who came to visit me every other week when I was in jail. She never missed one—unless she went on holiday with her asshole ex-boyfriend.
“I counted down the days until you were home,” she murmurs into my hair. “I won’t let anyone wreck that.”
I blink, startled by the quiet pain in her voice. I’d spent so long wrapped in my grief and survival, I hadn’t stopped to consider what it cost Sophie to lose me, to visit month after month, neverknowing if I’d be okay. She was always the bright one, the funny one, but beneath that, she'd been holding the thread between us with shaking hands. And I never once asked how it felt to be the one left behind.
Guilt squeezes my ribs. I’ve been selfish. I thought prison only destroyed my life, but it took pieces of hers too.
“Right,” she says finally, pulling back from me. Her cheeks are wet, and her mascara has run, giving her panda eyes. We giggle at each other’s appearance.
“Let’s make you impossible to forget.”
Two hours later, I stare at the woman looking back at me in the mirror. She’s stunning. I can’t quite believe it’s me. My dark eyes are rimmed in liner, lips painted a deep red. My hair hangs in thick, glossy curls down my back. I’m wearing a royal-blue bandage dress which dips into a low V-shaped neckline. The push-up bra Sophie has me stuffed into leaves nothing to the imagination. On her advice, I’m not wearing any panties.
“Trust me,” she demands. “When he runs his hands up your thigh and you’re open for him, he’ll go wild. Don’t be a prude now, Nicky. Go there and fuck his brains out.”
I laugh, nerves bubbling under the surface. Sophie is always so sure of herself, but right now, I feel anything but.
Joel is picking me up from Sophie’s apartment. I didn’t want my mother to know where I was going. She wouldn’t approve, and in the one hour we spent together today, her nagging became incessant. Her words roll around my brain, and I smirk. When you live under my roof, you play by my rules. What a first-class hypocrite. It’s a shame she didn’t have the same morals when it came to my father’s sex life.
My phone buzzes. A message lights up the screen.
Outside, Beautiful. You’ve got five seconds before I come up there and carry you down.
Butterflies dance in my stomach. Is he as gorgeous as I remember? Will things be as easy as they were last night, or was it some sort of out-of-body experience?
“That’s him here,” I say, and Sophie smiles at me encouragingly. She places her hand on my lower back and gently pushes me toward the door. “He’s threatening to come carry me down to the car.”
“Well, go on,” she says. “Go have amazing sex with a beautiful man. Is he well hung?”
I blush.
“That’ll be a yes, then,” she smirks. “Text me if he turns out to be a serial killer, okay?”
I nod, laughing, but then hesitate at the door. My hand rests on the frame, nerves catching in my chest.What if he doesn’t look at me the same way in the daylight? What if last night was all in my head?
Sophie sees it. She gives my hand a squeeze. “You’ve got this. He’s already obsessed.”
I step out into the evening.
