Page 15 of Love Me In Color

My cheeks felt even warmer as the upbeat song faded into a slower melody. Parker shifted his gaze at me, quietly asking if I wanted to stay or sit down. My brain advocated to pull away and sit, but my body didn’t obey, not wanting to lose the feeling of his hands on me.

I gave him an encouraging smile, and he pulled me closer. Chest to chest. We danced as the floor thinned out. His hands now rested lower, closer to my hips than my waist, fitting the curve of my body perfectly. My arm hooked a little tighter around him for the last few seconds of the song.

At the end of the song, Parker kept one of his hands on my back and led us back to where Gabby and Nathaniel sat. She sat on his lap; his arms were wrapped tightly around her. She was telling him a story, talking a million miles an hour with arms flailing around. His gaze was fixed on her. To him, she was the only person in the room.

Almost a year ago, Nathaniel and I had a few too many drinks while celebrating the close of a project after a customer visit in Boston. The exhaustion of the trip, the high of the success of the project, and the ample availability of alcohol were a precarious combination. It led Nathaniel to bare his soul to me while sitting on a bench at the last bar we visited.

He admitted what I already knew. He was in love with Gabby. I had introduced them almost six months before that, and she had been interested in joining the softball league he was a part of. One day, while watching Gabby work on her swing, he realized that he could see that the bats were light brown. At that moment, he was even more convinced that she was the perfect girl for him.

When we came home, he told her how he felt, and she shared the same feelings. But Gabby wasn’t ready to commit to more. During our senior year of college, her heart had been shattered by someone she thought she loved. She was scared of that feeling again.

Nathaniel didn’t mind at first. Every few months, I asked him why he didn’t ask for more of Gabby. He wanted a real commitment, but Gabby’s theory of love being a choice prevented him. He knew she wasn’t ready to choose him yet, and he wanted her to decide on her own. They were essentially together, and he would wait as long as it took to make Gabby officially his.

“Ah, you must be the handsome gym stranger I’ve heard so much about,” he reached around and shook Parker’s hand, giving me a wink. “Great to meet you.”

“Handsome gym stranger, huh?” Parker smirked, and his fingers poked at my side slightly. The butterflies in my stomach intensified. I glared at Nathaniel.

We rested with them for a few minutes from the songs that already had us sweating despite it feeling like Antarctica in here. Nathaniel and Parker instantly hit it off. I tried not to stare at the handsome stranger as they debated the stats of a baseball pitcher. He confidently sat back, slinging an arm around the back of my chair. Gabby smirked at me, and I averted my gaze to the floor, avoiding any of her suggestive looks.

A few songs later, Parker pulled me back to the floor, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me closer and more confidently than before. I found a strange level of comfort in his arms. I chalked it up to the fact that it had been a long time since I had allowed myself to relax. Gabby was right. This was precisely what I needed.

Nathaniel watched the dance floor. Gabby had fallen asleep on his lap. It had very quickly become midnight.

“Ready to go?” I asked, leading Parker off the dance floor. Nathaniel nodded, his fingers tangled in Gabby’s hair. “Do you want a ride, Parker? It’ll be expensive to get an Uber back to the city from here.”

“Sure, I’m only a few blocks from the gym if that’s not too much trouble.”

Nathaniel lightly woke Gabby up and gingerly guided her to the car. They took the back and Parker the front.

“You can drop us off at mine,” Nathaniel said. “I’ve barely seen her in almost two weeks, Blake. I’ve missed her.”

Gabby spent most weekends that she didn’t work at Nathaniel’s, but he had traveled a lot over the last two weeks. He had barely been home between his mid-year customer visits and dealing with Amelia’s contract.

“I know,” I sighed, understanding the longing in his voice.

By the time we were in front of his building, Nathaniel had convinced Parker to join their softball team while he was in town. Parker was a former college baseball player, so he was more than eager to join.

“Goodnight, Blake. It was great to meet you, Parker. I’ll shoot you all the info about practices in the morning.” He shut the door behind him and sweetly walked a sleepy Gabby to the door.

After hours of dancing, I expected to be exhausted, but I was anything but. My brain was wide awake, and I was feeling a second wind. My body was ecstatic to be doing something other than running and sitting at my desk. I tapped my fingers on the wheel, thinking about what to do or say. Parker watched me with an expectant smile.

I felt a surge of boldness overtake me, and I knew I didn’t want this night to end just yet.

“Do you like ice cream, Parker?” I asked. If he didn’t, we couldn’t be friends.

“I love it. Only psychos don’t like ice cream. Are you suggesting we keep this night going?”

“If you’re down?”

“I’m game,” Parker smiled from the passenger seat beside me.

I pulled away from Nathaniel’s building and introduced Parker to my favorite ice cream place, Scooped. The little shop was at the end of the bar district, so it was open until late, especially on weekends. The number of people who impulsively bought ice cream after a night of drinking was somewhat shocking, but it was convenient for a midnight ice cream run.

We dodged drunk bodies on the sidewalk and entered the shop. The sweetness in the air made my mouth instantly water. The shop was brightly lit and packed. A giant ice cream cone hung from the ceiling.

I ordered my usual pistachio and Nutella combination. Parker was skeptical of my claims that this was the best ice cream in the world, so he stuck to trusty chocolate. As I was about to pay, he stopped my hand from handing the exhausted cashier my card.

“My treat,” he said. “My real thank you for rescuing my stuff.”

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