13. Parker

13

What was wrong with me?

Nicholas getting a promotion had to have been one of the best nights of his life, but I couldn't bring myself to be happy for him. I'd tried my best to plaster on a smile throughout the rest of the event, being as charming and lovely as ever, joking around with Tyler and even cracking some jokes with George, too. Hell, I'd never felt more like I belonged in Nicholas' inner circle, with nearly every guy at the station knowing my name by the end of the party, Nicholas swiftly introducing me as they came up to our table to offer him congratulations and best wishes.

At a certain point I'd wanted to make a quip about feeling like some sort of famous politician's other half, the slight rush of power at being by Nicholas' side as he ascended, how much nicer everyone was probably being to me just because he'd had his arm around me all evening. I was a trophy partner, the perfect accessory to someone in their shining moment of success…

But the quip fell from my lips before I ever had a chance to speak it.

Because it wasn't true. I wasn't Nicholas' other half. I wasn't a trophy partner.

I wasn't even his perfect accessory.

I was his practical choice and it didn't matter how comfortable he was showing me off to the other guys. It didn't matter how easy it felt being by his side, how happy I was to be pressed up against him throughout the whole night. I didn't belong to Nicholas because he'd never asked and he never would. Belonging to each other wasn't even on the agenda?—

Which meant that I needed to get the fuck over it and move the fuck on.

"That… was much too much," Nicholas chuckled as he reached for my hand in the near empty parking lot. "I really wasn't expecting all of that tonight."

"What? You didn't like being the belle of the ball?" I joked. "Or should I say the big man on campus?"

"I don't know about all of that." Nicholas shook his head. "I'm not too good about being the center of attention."

"You'll get used to it. I'm sure whenever a fire is big enough to make the news, journalists will be knocking down your door. All the cameras in your face will be annoying, at first, before they become addictive. Oh, and don't forget the lucrative talk show circuit?—"

"Yeah. No. Never going to happen." Nicholas chuckled again. "I don't think I'm going to suddenly start liking being around people any more than I do right now."

"You like being around me, though," I said, insecurity bubbling up my throat.

"Of course, I like being around you," Nicholas said, before gently kissing the side of my face. "You're one of the few people I can stand being around, especially with how much time we've been spending together."

"Do you think the guys like being around me, too?"

"Parker, are you serious?" Nicholas playfully scoffed. "You were amazing back there. Not just with arranging the party, just everything. Everyone loves you."

Everyone loves you.

I winced away from the phrase, not sure why it'd landed so harshly against my chest. Desperate to shift the feeling away from me, I quickly changed the subject.

"So? Any plans for the afterparty?"

"The afterparty?"

"Yeah, the one for you and me." I smirked, before leaning against the hood of Nicholas' truck. "What were you thinking we should do after this?"

"Well…"

"Well?"

"I was thinking that we could go back to my place," Nicholas said, his voice growly and low.

"And then?"

"And then, we could try a few of those leftover beers I had the guys throw in the back." He flashed me a wicked grin. "I remember you saying you weren't much of a beer fan and I intend to prove you wrong. As a connoisseur of sorts, I'm pretty sure I can find something you'll like."

"Oh, Nicholas. Poor, sweet Nicholas." I let out a heavy sigh. "Do you really think you're the first person who's tried to cure me of my not-liking-beer-itis? I've had plenty of guys try before?—"

"Yeah, but they don't know you like I do." He smiled again.

And the pressure against my chest returned with full force. I copied his expression, offering him a smile, too, even though smiling was the last thing I felt like doing.

"Sounds like a plan, then," I said, hoping he couldn't see through the fake smile on my lips. "Let's go back to your place and drink some nasty beer."

Dear Journal—

Dear Diary?—

Dear Whoever Breaks Into My Room And Reads This While I'm Sleeping?—

We have a fucking problem.

Remember how I said I feel like I'm in a made-for-TV movie? Yeah, I might've been right about that, except I didn't realize it's the kind where I end up all alone. I think I might be the person Nicholas dates/fucks/screws/whatever before he ends up with the person he's actually going to be with. I'm the name that gets mentioned in passing while Nicholas moves on with his life.

I'm just a bunch of memories. Just some guy in the fucking shadows.

You know how I know? Because I'm having to put on a fake fucking smile while things only get better for him. That's not main character behavior. That's not even BFF character behavior.

But maybe it's better this way. It's not like anything's changed since last time. I'm still in vacation mode and Nicholas still wants to keep things practical. Why mess with the formula when everything's been working out so far?

I don't know. It just… hurts.

Anyway, gotta go. Nicholas is sorting through beers as we speak. Tonight is going to be a disgusting experience but the things we do for love, like really cute guys we meet in small towns.

"Oh, my God. This smells like an oil rig," I whined as I sniffed the beer Nicholas had just handed to me in the kitchen. "Why does it smell like pure chemicals?"

We were on our third different kind of beer, splitting the bottles between us as we made our way through Nicholas' taste test. We were going through them one right after the other, Nicholas saying something about not wanting to give me time to think too hard about their flavors, only relying on first impressions to decide whether I enjoyed the drink or not. Honestly, I hadn't been impressed by any of them, so far, but at least I hadn't been traumatized, either.

That was until we got to this bottle.

I had a bad feeling about it even from its label, a man pulling apart his shirt with his bare hands and what looked like an explosion going on right behind him. It reminded me of the kind of label I would've seen on an insanely spicy bottle of hot sauce, serving more as a warning than an invitation to put it on any actual food.

"Taste it! You've gotta taste it!" Nicholas egged me on, a warm smile on his face. "And if you don't like it, just hand it over. I'll finish the bottle."

"I don't know. You sure you can handle it? I don't want you blowing past your limit."

"My limit? You've had as much to drink as me, Parker."

"Sure, but I've got a crazy high tolerance for the stuff," I replied. "Most people can't keep up with me and those who try? Usually end up passed out on the floor."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Less of a challenge and more like good advice?" I chuckled. "Seriously. It's been that way since high school."

"You were drinking like this when you were in Ohio?"

"You remembered that I moved here from Ohio in high school?" I was genuinely stunned by his recollection.

"You think I don't remember things you tell me about yourself?" Nicholas chuckled now, too. "What kind of guy do you think I am?"

"I guess I just didn't think it was that interesting of a fact to remember."

"Hmm." Nicholas quietly nodded before he slightly tilted his head to the side.

"Something on your mind over there?" I asked, stalling my way out of drinking the beer in my grip.

"I was just wondering what it was like. Moving around like that when you were younger. I've pretty much been in the same place for my whole life, the idea of moving is as foreign to me as… literally any foreign country."

"Good one." I let out a light laugh as I thoughtfully pondered the question. "And moving around is fine. I mean, it sucks, don't get me wrong. But you can find things to like about new places. And then, eventually, you find your people. Hopefully. After that, it's smooth sailing from there."

"So, it's not super terrifying? Starting over?"

"That's the thing. You're never fully starting over. You're still you. People tend to leave that part out but it really helps to have something to work with. Now, starting over with a whole new identity? I've heard that's a whole different ballgame?—"

"Okay, now you're just stalling," Nicholas called me out with a wide grin. "Drink the beer! Drink the beer!"

His chant was singsong, and I groaned as I brought the bottle up to my lips.

"I'm doing this for you. I hope you know that." I groaned again. "Fuck. I'm really going to regret this."

I closed my eyes, taking a swig from the bottle as fast as humanly possible. As expected, the liquid on my tongue tasted like licking the floor of a chemical plant, my tastebuds soon exploding with different combinations of bad, bad, bad. I coughed as I handed the bottle back to Nicholas, the beer burning its way down my esophagus without any mercy.

"So? How was it?" Nicholas asked, expectantly.

"I think that was the worst one yet."

"Really?" Nicholas had the nerve to look shocked. "That one's pretty popular with the guys around here."

"And that's where you went wrong. I am nothing like the guys around here."

"Oh, come on. You're a lot like the guys around here, Parker," Nicholas replied. "You're just not used to drinking stuff that puts hair on your chest."

"Yeah, no. I'll pass on that." I laughed. "And I'm pretty sure you don't want me all hairy, anyway."

I coughed again, this time into the sleeve of my shirt. "And it's okay if I'm not like the other guys you're used to hanging around. It doesn't offend me or anything. I'm used to kind of carving out my own niche from place to place."

"I just want to make sure you feel comfortable here."

"I do feel comfortable here, Nicholas. At least, I do now. Especially with how welcoming you've been and the rest of the guys at work, too." I let out a wistful sigh as I spoke. "I don't know. There's just something about this place. And the people. I think a part of me is starting to fall in love with it?—"

I stopped my sentence short, my mouth snapping shut on that last syllable.

Shit.

What the hell? Had I really just said that out loud?

It must've been all the booze. I knew I had a talent for handling my alcohol pretty well, but maybe there was something about these wild Virginia brands that had something special in them, something my bloodstream hadn't been expecting to handle tonight.

"Yeah, this place has that effect on people." Nicholas smiled and shrugged, like I hadn't just dropped the L word into the conversation, even if it was a casual mention. He then proceeded to finish the bottle I'd just handed him, as promised, drinking it down like it wasn't burning through his throat.

A few seconds later and he looked over at me, a mischievous grin crossing over his features.

"What? What is it?" I pressed. "You got something naughty on your mind, Nicholas Cooper?"

"I was just thinking about drinking games I used to play." He shook his head, the grin still prominent on his face. "Back when I was a much younger guy."

"What kind of drinking games?"

"Oh, I'm sure you know all the good ones already." He chuckled. "But I'm thinking of one that's pretty basic. Someone asks a question, you admit it and drink, or don't admit it and keep your cup dry. It's not a complicated game but it's?—"

"A lot of fun?" I suggested. "I remember that one. I haven't played it in years, either."

"Would you want to?" Nicholas reached for yet another beer for me to sample, soon handing it over. "Play that kind of game with me?"

"That depends." I smirked. "Is this your way of fishing for information?"

"Maybe." Nicholas took a step closer to me before he went on. "Would that be a dealbreaker for you, if it was?"

"Not as long as I get to go first."

"Never have I ever…" My question trailed off as I sat next to Nicholas on the kitchen island, our respective beers seated next to us. "Told someone I was going to call them after hooking up but never actually made the call."

I waited with bated breath to see if Nicholas reached for his drink.

But instead, he quietly shook his head. "Not my style. I try to be honest with people. Always. No use in promising something if I'm not going to come through with it."

I flashed a smile at him, as I took a drink for myself.

"Wait. Really?" Nicholas let out a dramatic gasp. "I'm surprised, Parker. You really don't seem like the type?—"

"I'm not the type," I corrected. "Usually. Sometimes, though, guys can be a little aggro and it feels easier to let them think they can see me again instead of having them ask me a bunch of questions about why they can't."

"The consequences of being in such high demand?"

"The consequences of putting yourself out there, at all." I harshly chuckled. "Not everyone's as cool as you, Nicholas."

"Okay, my turn." He hummed as he gently tapped his bottle against the kitchen island. "Never have I ever… stolen someone's boyfriend?"

I chuckled again as I pushed my bottle away from me for emphasis. "What kind of guy do you think I am?"

"Hey, I'm just asking questions." Nicholas chuckled, too, as he copied my motion, pushing his bottle away. "I didn't think either of us ever did that one, though. Not seriously, anyway."

"Back to me, then." I tilted my head to the side, allowing the question more room to rattle around in my brain before I asked it. "Never have I ever… had the best sex of my life in my own home?"

Nicholas didn't hesitate to reach for his drink and take a quick swig.

Of course, his reaction set off about a million questions inside of me, ones that were ping-ponging back and forth between the very front of my brain all the way to the back of my neck. I was frozen by the weight of it, the sheer potential implications that Nicholas was admitting that the best sex he'd ever had was with me?—

Or maybe I was reading way too much into his response.

Maybe he did have the best sex of his life in his own home, and it wasn't with me.

"Girlfriend?" I blurted out the question and Nicholas quirked an eyebrow in return.

"What?"

"Did you have the best sex of your life with a girl who was your girlfriend?"

"That's not how this game works." Nicholas laughed. "You'll have to find another way in if that's what you wanted to know. Anyway, it's my turn now."

He leaned toward me, his eyes drifting down to my lips before they slowly dragged across my face. "Never have I ever… wanted to take off my shirt right now."

I took my time as I reached for my drink, wanting to keep my eyes locked on Nicholas' own, the heat stirring behind his gaze making something flutter inside my chest. When my hand finally made it to my drink, I felt Nicholas' palm shadowing over mine, his thumb running along my fingertips.

"Me too," he murmured, before he quickly took a swig of his beer. Once he set it back down on the island, his hands went toward his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion. I took a drink of my own beer before I followed his lead, pulling my shirt over my head and letting it fall to the kitchen floor.

"Never have I ever…," I started, my pulse racing with excitement and anticipation, "…wanted to have someone be dominant with me."

Nicholas seemed thrown off by the question as I beamed over at him. I brought my beer bottle toward my lips before I ran my tongue alongside its opening, a few seconds later letting the bottle's narrow neck slip a few inches into my mouth. Afterward, I threw back my head, the swig going straight down my throat before I placed the bottle back down beside me.

When I made eye contact with Nicholas again, there was a look on his face that I couldn't quite describe, one that looked hungry and wanting.

"I see what you're doing," Nicholas said, his voice sultry and low. "Don't think I don't."

"Really? What do you think I'm doing, Nicholas? I'm just asking questions." I tried to make myself sound as innocent as possible. "You're just asking questions, too, right?"

"Right." He nodded, one of his hands reaching out for my face. He then slipped his thumb between my lips, sliding it into my mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world. I kept a straight face as I started to suck on his thumb, my tongue rolling around the pad of his finger like it was his cock, shamelessly bobbing my head back and forth.

"Fuck." Nicholas groaned as he pulled his hand away from my mouth. "You're going to be the death of me, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart?"

"You don't like it?"

"No. That's not—" I shook my head, my thoughts feeling all jumbled together. "You've just never called me that before. It's usually good boy, isn't it?"

"It can be, if that's what you'd prefer?—"

"I like sweetheart, too," I admitted, with a small smile. "If that's what you'd prefer."

"Good boy." Nicholas lightly chuckled, before he let out a sigh. "All right. My turn again."

"Are we really still playing this game?—"

"Never have I ever wanted to be fucked out of my mind on a kitchen island."

"Hmm… let me think…" I made a show of hemming and hawing, tilting my drink back and forth in my hand. "Gee… I really don't know about this one…"

"Are you ever going to just give me what I want?" Nicholas chuckled again. "Even this once?"

"Please. If I gave you exactly what you wanted all the time, you'd be so bored."

"Actually, I think I'd be pretty grateful."

"Grateful and bored." I smirked. "Admit it. You like the challenge."

"Only if you admit that you want me to fuck you right now."

I playfully rolled my eyes before I took a sip of my drink. I moved to set it back down on the kitchen island but before I had a chance, Nicholas took it into his grip, setting it down on the floor below. A few seconds later and his body was pressed against mine, my back in turn pressed against the island itself, his tongue inside my mouth, his hands all in my hair…

Nicholas was suddenly everywhere.

And still, I couldn't have gotten enough of him if I tried.