Chapter 8

EIGHT

PARKER

Two days later, we're heading out the door to Rory's appointment. He's putting on a brave face but I can tell he's anxious. He's slightly pale and he keeps biting his nails and taking deep breaths in and out.

"Who went with you before?" I ask him as we make the short drive, me behind the wheel.

"Oh, um, Zach went with me once, but he said it was embarrassing for him so I never asked him to go again."

My jaw clenches. "He what?" I don't get angry easily, but hearing these stories about his ex makes my blood boil.

Rory nibbles his fingernail, looking at me, then shrugs.

"That is messed up, little rabbit," I tell him.

"Yeah, I'm realizing that." He gives a small smile. "I'm starting to be more and more thankful every day that he cheated on me, because if I spent another year with him, or even another month, I might have actually gone my whole life believing it was okay for him to treat me like that."

"Why did you let him treat you like that?" I ask. He wraps his arms around himself as he answers.

"He was my first. I had never really had another guy show interest in me before him, and I just didn't realize how messed up some of the things he said and did were. When I first met him he was charming and funny, and did kind things for me. It wasn't until we moved in together that he started to change. And I think, part of me just didn't want to believe it. I mean, my parents are great. They've always supported me, so it's not like I was seeking out a toxic relationship or anything, I just never had someone fawn over me the way he did at first. But the longer we were together, and the more we spent time alone, the worse it got. And I realized he never really cared about me."

"I'm sorry you didn't get a better first experience, little rabbit."

"Me too," he says, a sad smile on his adorable face.

"Well, you have me now, and even if you puke your brains out or pass out, I promise I won't be embarrassed."

"Thank you," he says.

When I pull into the Quest parking lot I turn the car off and wait. "You ready?"

"No," he tells me. "But better get it over with."

As we near the building Rory keeps playing with the sleeves of his jacket. Underneath is a short sleeve button up and bow tie. This one is black, with suspenders to match, and he has red skinny jeans on his legs that look amazing on him, showing off his little bubble butt.

I only hesitate for another second before I reach over and take his hand in mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and I hear the slight gasp that leaves his lips, but he doesn't pull away. Instead he squeezes my hand back and we walk inside that way. I stay holding his hand as we sit and wait for his name to be called. His leg is bouncing and he's biting his thumb nail, but I think I'm still helping him stay grounded a bit. He relaxes even more when I rub my thumb over his hand, and I hear a soft sigh as his leg ceases its movements.

I even get so bold as to press a kiss to his curls. We get a few looks from the other people waiting their turns, and I'm sure they're judging us for something, but I don't give a shit.

"Rory," they call after a few more minutes, and he stands, still clinging to my hand.

"You want me to go back with you?" I ask, and he nods, so I follow. While he's giving them his paperwork and paying, I sit beside him in the extra chair. He's literally doing everything with one hand so he doesn't have to let go of me, and I'm finding it really sweet, but also my chest squeezes with how nervous he must be.

"You're being really brave," I tell him softly.

"No, I'm not," he mumbles. "People do this all the time. It shouldn't be such a big deal."

"But it is a big deal, to you. It's scary. But you're still here. That's brave. Everyone is brave in their own way."

"This your boyfriend?" the lady behind the desk asks, a fond smile on her face. She has dark skin and her hair is pulled back in a ponytail as she types.

"No," Rory says. "Just a friend." He looks at me. "A really good friend."

My cheeks heat. "Aww, little rabbit," I say, and nudge him. He flushes, then and I realize what I called him, but he doesn't seem bothered by it, just flustered.

"You nervous?" she asks, and Rory nods.

"Don't like needles," he says.

"Oh, yeah, that's rough. If you tell them ahead of time they can have you lie down. That might help."

He gives a small smile and nods.

"Okay, we've got you all checked in," the lady says. "You can have a seat around the corner. They'll be calling you back shortly."

Rory nods and we stand, making our way to a second waiting area. "You got this, little dude," I tell him, as he grips my hand like a vice.

Fortunately it's only a couple more minutes before they call Rory back, because he needs to get this over and done with or he's gonna work himself into a tizzy. He doesn't let go of my hand as he follows the phlebotomist back to a sectioned off room. There's a chair and a table like you would see in a doctor's office. On the counter are several different containers with vials in them, each with different colors on the top.

I don't want to overstep, so I wait for Rory to say something. When the woman taking his blood asks him to sit he clears his throat and says, "Um, actually, could I lie down? I don't handle needles very well and if I'm not lying down there's a good chance I will pass out." He looks embarrassed but I am so stinkin' proud of him for speaking up and advocating for himself.

"Oh, of course, hon," the lady says. "We'll do our best to make you as comfortable as possible."

He tugs me over to the table and climbs up on it before removing his jacket and handing it to me. Then I take his right hand again as the phlebotomist steps towards him and wraps the tourniquet around his upper arm on the left side.

"Do you know which arm is better for this?" she asks, tapping the underside of his elbow and having him make a fist.

"I don't think it matters," he says. I can tell his voice is shaking slightly but he's doing so well.

The woman gives him a warm smile. "I think I found a really good one. Go ahead and lay down, sweetie." He does, his head resting near mine. I scoot a little so I don't have to reach so far to keep hold of his hand.

"Do I need to move?" I ask, worried I'm in her way. I don't want to make it harder for her and thereby harder for Rory.

"No, you're fine," she says. I see her prepping the needle and then moving back by Rory's side.

"Just a little poke," she says. Rory closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in, his body tensing up when she inserts the needle, his eyes closing tightly as he squeezes my hand.

"You're doing amazing, hon," the lady praises. "Worst part is over, okay? Just keep breathing. We're almost done."

She fills a few different vials with the blood, and Rory takes deep breaths in and out. I never let go of his hand.

"All done," she says, cheerfully, backing away. She returns with a cotton ball and some medical tape. "You can sit up when you're ready, but no rush."

He nods and stays still for a moment before he opens his eyes. "I think I'm good."

I stand and help him sit, so damn proud of my roomie I could squeeze the stuffing out of him. I don't, though. Just help him back into his jacket and let him hop off the table.

I do hug him to my side when we're walking away after thanking the nice phlebotomist. "You were great!" I tell him, then ruffle his hair as he smiles and squirms.

"Thank you for coming," he says, his cheeks flushed. "For making me feel safe."

"Of course, little dude." I hope I can always make him feel safe, that whatever happens he knows that with me, there's nothing but acceptance and love.

My sweet little rabbit.

RORY

Damn, I want to kiss this sweetheart of a hunky man so bad. He was so amazing. I've never felt more at ease with someone than I do with Parker.

After my appointment he offered to take me out for breakfast because I was fucking starving. I'm trying not to think of it as a date because I know it's really not, but god, I really wouldn't mind if it was.

Would he want someone like me, though? I mean, I know he finds me attractive, or at least he did until I lost it on him and left him with a hard on in a public bathroom. Maybe that attraction went out the window just like his orgasm. But even if he does find me desirable still, hooking up with me is one thing. Being friends with me is one thing. Being more, I don't know that he would want that. It's only been a month since I broke up with Zach and moved in with Parker, but I can honestly say it's been the best decision I ever made. The trouble is, I find myself wanting things with him that I'm not sure he wants, or will ever want. But I'm also realizing how much better my life is without Zach in it, and how much Parker's words and actions are invading my thoughts, to the point where Zach's aren't taking up the space they used to.

I pull out my phone as we sit at the booth in the local breakfast joint Parker took me to. There's not much on the menu that I can eat, but there are a few things. He's got a mouth full of eggs when he mumbles, "Whatcha doin?"

"Something I should have done a long time ago," I say, tapping at my screen before I set my phone down and look up at him. "Blocking Zach's number." I shake my hands out and let out a breath. God, I'm nervous, but I also feel incredibly liberated. I stopped reading any messages from him a long time ago, and honestly he hasn't sent me any in a while, but even though I know he's shit and I am better off without him, the idea of closing him out of my life for good was still scary. It's less scary now, though. Because I realize how much happier I am each and every day that he isn't in the picture.

"Hell, yeah, little dude," he cheers, raising his hand, and I smile widely as I give him a high five. I finish my oatmeal and coffee and when the waitress comes by with the check and hands it to Parker I flush.

"I can get mine," I tell him. He shakes his head.

"Not a chance. You were brave as hell today and you aren't paying for your own breakfast."

I bite my lip to keep from smiling, but don't argue with him as he pulls his wallet out. "Thank you," I tell him, and he grins at me.

I usually love my classes, but today, for whatever reason, okay, I know the reason, I'm eager to be finished and back home with Parker. I've missed him since we went our separate ways this morning.

It's late afternoon when I get back to our apartment, and Parker isn't there yet, so I decide to get some homework done and a little bit of cleaning. I vacuum, wash the dishes in the sink, and change the sheets on my bed. Then I decide that I've been sweating way too much and don't smell the best, and if I am going to be snuggling up against Parker tonight while we watch a movie, which I'm hoping will be the case, I need to shower.

I make my way into the bathroom and slide off my suspenders, then remove my bowtie before stripping off my shirt and pants. I'm half hard as I look at myself in the mirror and my cock twitches when I think of my sexy, adorable roommate. Those gorgeous muscles, that swoon worthy smile, and the way he takes care of me, looks after me. I moan as I reach down and stroke myself, picturing Parker on his knees for me again. Or letting me straddle him as I lick up his toned abs and suck on those insanely defined pecs and deliciously dark nipples.

"Oh, fuck," I whimper as precum leaks out and a wet spot forms on my underwear. God, I haven't jacked off in a while and it feels amazing. I take a quick break to strip out of my underwear and slide off my glasses, then turn the water to the shower on before I step inside and grip my dick again. It feels amazing, but I need more, so I reach over and pump some body wash on my hand, using it as lube as I stroke myself faster and harder, whimpering as I imagine Parker's big strong hand around me, his scent overwhelming me, his lips pressed to my wet skin as I thrust into his grip.

"Fuck!" I cry out. His name leaves my lips on a stifled moan as I bite my lip and shoot my release all over the shower wall. I'm breathing heavily as I brace myself against the tile for a second, my eyes closed, chest rising and falling. Damn that was amazing, but it also makes me realize how much I want my roommate, and it scares me because the last time I got attached to someone it didn't go so well.

I know Parker is nothing like Zach. When Parker talks to me he looks at me, and listens. He supports me and encourages me. When he congratulates me on something, it's genuine. When he makes dinner for me he never complains about how inconvenient it is. He genuinely enjoys my friends instead of tolerating them at best, and has never said a single derogatory thing about either Lucy or Jackson, which Zach did on a regular basis, complaining about how clingy they were and how they took time away from us. Parker isn't my boyfriend but he still understands how important Lucy and Jackson are to me. He's never done anything to make me feel bad about myself or like I'm a burden in some way and he's just patient and tolerant enough to deal with me. Things that I believed for a really long time until Parker came along and showed me that my needs matter, too. That I'm worth the extra bit of effort.

I don't know what's scarier. Him not wanting me the way I want him, or something more happening between us, only for me to realize that he isn't who I thought he was, and being crushed all over again. I hate that Zach has taken away my ability to trust myself when it comes to relationships. And I hate that I didn't realize what he was doing and how he was manipulating me from the very beginning, but now I'm terrified of trusting anyone with my heart, feeling like I always have to have walls up, always have to be on the alert, in case the next person tries to take advantage of me, too.

I sigh and dry off, before slipping my glasses back on and grabbing my clothes. I pad down the hall to my bedroom and shut the door before tossing my dirty clothes in the hamper and sliding into sweats and a cropped T-shirt with a sleeping teddy bear wearing a nightcap on the front.

I hear dishes clanking together when I get closer to the living room/kitchen area and I can't help the grin that spreads across my face when I see Parker rummaging through the cupboards, wearing a bright green apron with sloths on it over his jeans and T-shirt. He pulls out a mixing bowl and I see the flour and sugar sitting next to him on the counter. There's also dairy free butter and some vegan chocolate chips.

"Hey, short stack," he says, beaming when he sees me. I flush when his gaze travels from my face down my body and back up, his own cheeks pinkening when his eyes meet mine again. "You, uh…" he clears his throat. "You look good. I like your shirt." He bites his lip and goes back to grabbing things from the different drawers and cupboards. Measuring cups and spoons, a spatula. I hear him mumble something that sounds like, "What was I looking for again?"

God, he's so cute, all flustered at the sight of me. And I can't help feeling a bit proud that he likes what he sees. I move to the bar and sit, watching him. "Everything okay?"

He looks back at me, briefly. "Yeah, of course. Why do you ask?"

"You said you bake when you're nervous or stressed."

"Oh, yeah, I do," he says as he starts filling the large bowl with the different ingredients. "I do it for fun, too, though, but I'm actually making these for a friend in one of my classes. She's having a hard time right now, some family stuff, and my chocolate chip cookies always cheer her up. I'm adjusting the recipe so you can have some, too." He flushes and grins at me.

Damn. Could he be any more perfect? "That's really sweet of you. I mean both doing it for her and me. Thank you."

He shrugs as he measures out some brown sugar and dumps the contents in the bowl. "It's no big deal. It's not much effort for something I know will make a difference. I can't do much else. I just wish she didn't have such a shitty family." He looks at me and winks. "And you deserve yummy treats, too."

My cheeks heat and I can't help grinning. "She's lucky she has you," I tell him, and see the flush creeping up his neck and staining his cheeks pink as well.

"I'll make dinner when I'm done with these," he says.

"No rush," I tell him. "You wanna watch something tonight?" I'm really hoping he does, because I want to snuggle up against him more than anything, and it's the best excuse I've got to be that close. If I was more confident I'd just plonk myself right on his lap, but it takes all my courage just to rest my head on his shoulder. I was so nervous last night, that he would tell me to move. But he didn't. I know he must have carried me to my bed, too, when I fell asleep against him, and part of me was pissed when I woke up and realized I'd missed it.

My heart gives a little pitter patter in my chest when he looks back at me and grins. "Sounds good to me."

The apartment smells like fresh baked chocolate chip cookies minutes later, and when they come out of the oven Parker sets a few aside, giving me a smile. I bite my lip. "If I'm good, can I have one after dinner?" I ask, and his eyes widen. My cheeks flame when I realize how that sounded. "Oh my god," I mumble, burying my face in my hands. "I'm gonna go die now." I start to slide off the barstool and Parker laughs as he sets the plate with three cookies down in front of me.

"You can have one now if you're really good," he says, and I smile, my face heating all over again when he winks at me.

I wait a few minutes for the cookie to cool down a tiny bit before I take a bite and moan at the gooey chocolatey goodness. "Oh, god, that's good." I lick my lower lip when I feel the warm, melted chocolate against it and my dick jumps in my sweats when I see the heat in Parker's gaze as he stares at me.

He clears his throat again as he turns away and wipes his hands – which are perfectly clean by the way – on his apron.

"I'll start dinner in a second," he tells me as he grabs the dirty utensils and starts piling them in the dishwasher.

"I'll do that," I tell him, jumping off my bar stool and moving around the counter into the kitchen. "You cook and I clean, remember?"

"That's just for dinner," he says, "not everything. And I made the mess."

I smile at him. "I don't mind. Let me help." I place my hand on his chest and shove him away, the feel of his firm body underneath my palm making me shiver. He nods and pulls out a baking dish before changing the temperature on the oven slightly. Then he grabs some chicken out of the refrigerator as I load the dirty dishes. I bite my lip when I see him sneaking glances at my ass out of the corner of my eye. And I might enjoy it a little too much.

"Shit," I hear and then a wince as something clatters, and turn to see Parker holding his finger, blood running down his hand.

"Fuck," I say and grab him, pulling him towards the sink. I turn it on and shove his finger under it. Then grab a washcloth and press it over the wound, and he winces again. "You okay?" I ask. He nods, but doesn't look at me. I tell him to hold the wash cloth over his finger while I get the first aid kit. His cheeks are flushed as I rinse the area around the wound with soap and water, being careful not to get the soap in the cut, before I pat his finger dry and then apply antiseptic ointment. Finally, I wrap a bandage around the injury, and before I can even think twice about it, I bring it to my lips and press a soft kiss to his finger.

Parker's breath hitches and my gaze meets his. God, I want to kiss him so badly. "Thank you," he murmurs, his eyes darting to my lips. His thumb rests against my bottom lip, his fingers under my chin, and I swallow as he draws closer to me. I'm pushing up on my tiptoes, getting ready to taste him again, finally, when my phone chimes loudly and Parker startles, releasing me. "I uh, I should get back to the chicken." He holds his finger up. "Thanks again."

I nod. Goddamn it. I'm going to murder whoever ruined that moment. When I finish loading the dishwasher I wash my hands and pick up my phone. I can't get too upset when I see it's a picture of my little sisters that Mom sent me of them playing dress up and a text underneath that says, It's not the same without you . I smile because I miss it, too. I used to play dress up with them all the time when I was at home, and they loved it. We'd break out their stuffed animals and have tea parties with real treats that we baked together.

Ava is wearing an Elsa dress and Addison is dressed up like Moana. They both have huge smiles on their faces as they look at the camera, their arms around each other.

Can't wait for Thanksgiving , I type back.

Parker puts dinner in the oven and tells me he's going to go take a shower. He still seems a bit flustered, and I hope things won't be too weird between us now. Fortunately, he seems a bit more himself when he returns to the kitchen, now in sweats and a tank. Fuck, that's so not fair. I feel my dick twitching again as I stare at those biceps, trying not to drool.

We eat dinner together on the sofa and Parker hands me the remote. "Wanna pick a documentary?" he says, and I grin. We watch Sr , which is a documentary on Robert Downey Sr. and Parker stands about twenty minutes in to take his plate to the kitchen. He comes back with a bag of potato chips and settles back into the sofa. I don't miss that he's quite a bit closer now than he was before, and that he's slouching.

I shuffle closer to him until my arm is pressed against his, my legs up on the sofa in the spot I was just sitting in.

I rest my head on his shoulder and breathe in his scent, my fingers aching to slide between his. I flinch when I hear him crunching on the potato chips a second later. I try to stay where I am but it's so loud with my ear right next to his jaw and I end up lifting my head.

As he chews, I feel my nerves fraying. I move a little bit further away to try and help and he looks over at me. I give a small smile and he smiles back. "Want some?" he asks, holding the bag up. I shake my head and he shrugs, then shoves another fistfull of chips in his mouth.

I last another minute before I can't take it anymore. I know he's not actually chewing super loud but it sounds loud to me. He has his mouth closed and everything but it's still making me tense and irritable and I can't hear the show over the noise.

"Will you stop?" I almost shout all of a sudden, and he turns to look at me with wide eyes.

"Sorry," he says, except his mouth is full of chips and it comes out like "Thorry," as little bits of chip fly out all over his lap and the sofa.

I can't help laughing at how silly he looks, his mouth closed around the remainder of the chips as he tries not to chew anymore. "You can chew and swallow," I tell him. I can tell that he chews as little and as slowly as possible before I see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. "I'm sorry. I know it's not fair. You should be able to eat without me getting so worked up. I'll leave so I don't bother you." I move to stand up but he rests his hand on my leg.

"Don't go," he says. "I'm done anyway."

I eye him. "You're not just saying that?"

He shrugs. "I mean, I could eat more, but I'd rather you be here with me."

I flush. "You shouldn't feel like you can't have a snack when I'm in the same room, though."

"We'll figure out something. I can have my snacks before or after we watch so I don't bother you. Or I can eat something softer."

I bite my lip and then climb off the couch to grab the handheld vacuum cleaner, as Parker starts dusting his pants off and then picking up the larger pieces from the floor and couch.

I bring it back to the living room and use it to clean up the remaining mess. I notice Parker sneaking off to his room with the bag of chips and when he comes back a few seconds later they're closed. He wasn't in there long enough to sneak any. God, I think he left so I wouldn't have to hear the crinkling of the bag when he closed it.

He moves towards the kitchen and returns the bag to the pantry as I place the vacuum back in the hall closet. Then we're heading to the sofa again and I don't hesitate to curl up next to him. He grins and slouches a little bit again, and I take the opportunity to rub my cheek against his shoulder. The next thing I know his warm, giant fingers are lacing with mine and I suck in a breath as my entire body tingles and my heart stutters in my ribcage.

"This okay?" he whispers, and I nod. He presses a kiss to my curls and he doesn't let go of my hand even for a second while we watch the rest of the show.