Page 35 of Chasing Infinity

“I’m just saying, Noah. You’re both too old to be playing games with each other. So figure it out.” With that, she saunters off and doesn’t bother me for the rest of the day.

As the hours tick by, her words nag at me, and a part of me knows she’s right. I need to figure everything out, which needs to start with having that conversation that Parks promised me we would have. I need her to be well enough for that first, though. I continue with my course for the day, picking up the odds and ends of tasks that need to be done.

As soon as I’m back in the apartment at the end of the day, I yank my shirt off over my head, feeling like I’ve got the essence of bacon following me everywhere from learning to work the grill. I hop in the shower, quickly rinsing. Once I’m done, I pull on a pair of sweatpants and grab a beer from the fridge. I pop open the top and wander over to the living room, collapsing onto the couch. I reach for the remote and scan channels until I find some trivia gameshow I can watch without too much effort.

“Noah?” A meek voice calls out my name from the bedroom not long after I get settled. “Are you home?”

“I’m on the couch. Come on out.”

“I don’t want to get you sick,” she protests, but I hear her feet pad against the floor, indicating her presence.

As soon as Parks steps into my line of sight, I have to fight back a pitiful laugh. “You look like death warmed over.”

Parks sniffles as she comes a tad bit closer to me, and I see the tip of her sharp nose is chapped. She’s standing there with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and covering her head. Her eyes are red with deep purple pockets underneath as if she hasn’t had decent rest in days. I conclude she was probably tossing and turning while trying to sleep today.

Parks scowls at me and then sniffles again, a pathetic sound that tugs on my heart. I raise my left arm up onto the back of the couch and then pat the spot next to me. “Come here, Parks.”

She doesn’t waste time crossing the living room and hopping onto the couch, curling up to my left side. I help her situate her blanket so that it’s fully covering her and she nestles her face against my chest. I smooth a hand over her wild honey-brown hair that could really use a brush. My left arm falls into the dip of her waist, and I hold her close to me.

“I think your fever broke,” I speculate as I gauge the temperature of her cheek on my chest. She doesn’t feel as wildly hot as she did this morning. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

“Did you not sleep today?” I question.

“Some. Not really good sleep, though. This flu, or whatever it is, sucks.” She sniffles again and then asks, “How did everything go at the diner today?”

“Flawlessly,” I respond, reaching for the remote and turning down the TV before grabbing my beer and taking a sip. “You’ve got a good team. I just helped where I could.”

“Thank you for that.”

“My pleasure. I’m glad I could help.”

She sighs and snuggles in impossibly closer, and I tighten my arm around her hips. We lay together for a while. She stays snuggled up to me, and my eyes remain on the television, watching but not hearing the show on the screen.

The sensation of her fingers dancing across my skin prompts me to glance down. She’s tracing the outline of my tattoo, running her finger over the dark lines. She circles the compass before tracing the shape of the twined rope over my heart.

“Infinity,” Addison whispers. I close my eyes and hold her tighter.Infinity. It would look like a rope looping around in a knot to everyone else, but she sees it for what it is. Addison has always been good at that—seeing past surface level. “It’s really a nice tattoo.”

“Thank you.”

“Did it hurt?” she asks, and I chuckle at her question.

“It didn’t feel good, but it wasn’t the worst pain I’ve ever been through.”

“Yeah,” she agrees and then yawns.

“You should go back to bed,” I mutter, resting my nose in her hair and inhaling her lavender and vanilla scent—fresh and sweet.

“I don’t have the energy to walk,” she mewls. “Can you carry me?”

I chuckle against her hair and then move her so she’s in my lap. Parks struggles a little bit, her bony knee hitting somewhere it shouldn’t, and I grunt in discomfort. “Yep, just jam your knee right up my crotch, why don’t ya, Parks. Thanks for that.”

To my relief, she giggles softly and gives me a quiet apology. I scoop her up in my arms, carrying her from the couch back to her bedroom. I deposit her on the bed and readjust her comforter so she’s all tucked in.

“I’m so glad you were here today,” Parks says as I move to my knees so we’re at face level. Her hazel eyes settle on my face, and a tender smile curls on her lips. My heart constricts, and I feel a tug toward her deep in my soul. My thoughts jump back to Grace’s question today, but I squash it down, not ready to address that situation just yet.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” I say breathlessly.

---