3. Window to my Soul

THREE

Iwas mortified. "It's just a book, Parker. Don't get carried away."

"It's just a book you've highlighted, tabbed, and obviously read over and over." His thumb moved over the worn pages. His dark brown curls always fell in front of his hazel eyes, and I fought the urge to run my fingers through the strands.

I peeked over his arm to see green highlights over some words that I skipped, or a line drawing even more attention to what I'd already marked up.

"You made your own highlights?"

"Yeah, and I took notes. How else would I be prepared when you finally gave in and admitted you think I'm sexy?"

I rolled my eyes. "Get over yourself, James. You aren't even a little bit my type." It was a bold faced lie. I spent all 25 years of my life comparing every member of the opposite sex to Parker. No one measured up.

"Right, because you didn't have a poster of Kris Bryant hanging over your bed when we were in high school. I must have you confused with my other baseball obsessed best friend."

I gasped and smacked his shoulder. "It was the backwards hat, okay! It's like porn for women. Totally unfair and masks shitty hair situations."

He shook his dark curls in my face. "So you never play with my hair because you like the way it looks or because it's soft?"

"Correct."

"And you aren't all flustered right now because you know I can read every lie that crosses your lips?"

"No."

"And you're breathing heavily because you're mad at me right? Not because you can tell I want to kiss you?" He exhaled shakily. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about what could have happened last summer if you didn't pull away." He was too close. Too warm and inviting.

"Parker." He needed to quit talking like that. We'd always walked the thin line between friendship and more, but never acted on anything physical. "You don't like me like that. You wouldn't if you knew everything."

His tone went from teasing to serious in a matter of seconds. "There's nothing you could say that would change how bad I've always wanted you." He held up the book. "This is the only side of you I didn't know and I can handle it. Is this what you've wanted but no one could give to you? You don't actually want to date an asshole. You want someone who knows how to treat you like a princess and a slut."

My mouth dropped open. I was speechless. Parker was a guy"s guy who made crude jokes, but he didn't talk to me like that.

"What? There's nothing wrong with that. Or do you want to go back to being friends who don't talk about sex? You're the one who started this conversation." I knew he wasn't mad because the naughty glint in his eye said otherwise.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," I backtracked.

"Probably." He shrugged. "I've wanted you since high school—maybe before that—but every time I get close you push me away. Something always stops you and I think it's this." He motioned between us while acting like the bomb he just casually dropped wasn't monumental.

"What?" I looked away.

He used his thumb and forefinger to tilt my chin, so I had to look at him. "You know what almost happened last summer. I didn't bring it up again because I took it as you not wanting me back. And that's okay if it's how you feel, but I'm not mincing words this time. You need to know I'm serious."

For once, I had to be honest with myself and with him. "I know there's an attraction between us, Parker, but we wouldn't be compatible. I promise. And I can't handle your rejection when you find out I'm not as perfect as you think I am." Dean's words echoed in my mind.

"Your idea of perfection is so skewed, Del. I don't want you to say the right things and impress my friends with how well you look on my arm. I want to hear all your loud opinions, every thought that crosses your mind. You think I can't handle what you want? I've read the books. I've heard the shit your exes tried to tell me after you broke up with them. You think I'm too nice? Too soft for you?"

"You already treat me like I'm fragile. You baby me. I think it would physically hurt you to do anything other than dote on me."

"There's more than one way to treat you well, Dellie Girl." He set the book to the side and guided me to scoot down the bed. I felt like I was dreaming as he moved over me and used his palms to widen my legs, making room for himself between them. "I'd never hurt you." His eyes shone green in the dim light as they bore into mine. They were filled with so much sincerity that it pulled at my chest. "That's what you want right? That's why you keep dating all these douchebags? You want a little degradation in the bedroom?" His finger traced from my temple to my chin. His gaze was locked on my lips, but he was waiting for me to answer his question.

"I don't know how to talk about this with you. I've never talked about it with anyone."

He tilted my chin up again. "It's just me, Del." He slid an arm behind me so I was angled up against him. My shirt had ridden up, and his palm was warm on the bare skin above my high rise shorts.

"I want that," I conceded.

"Then let me show you."

I couldn't do anything other than nod. I couldn't believe my Parker was saying these things, pressed against me where I could feel him hard and wanting me.

His hips rocked against me and I felt lust coil in my lower stomach. "What are your rules?"

"Rules?" My brain was a wash at this point.

"I need to know what you want from me. Need to know your boundaries."

"I… I don't know. I don't have any."

"Then you'll tell me when something doesn't feel good, right?" His breath was a whisper against the shell of my ear. "Promise me."

"I promise." The thought of anything not feeling right with Parker was fleeting and far from my worries.

"So this pretty neck isn't off limits?" I shook my head. "Use your words."

"No, you can?—"

I felt his soft lips press to the sensitive skin behind my ear, at my pulse point and along my collar bone.

His eyes roamed over my body, and it made me flush hotter, like there was suddenly less air in the room because he was taking it all.

"Say the word and I'll stop." His hands found my waist, and his thumbs brushed under the band of my shorts. "God, I've dreamt about this. Dellie, are you wet for me?" I couldn't answer that. I wouldn't. "Can you feel how hard you make me? Seeing you all sweet and soft like this."

I squirmed under him and we both groaned at the friction. "Take them off," I practically begged. He slipped them down my legs, and I was left in just my drenched thong. I felt vulnerable, splayed out for him. It was new territory. Forbidden territory. If this went wrong my whole life would be missing a piece without him in it. That didn't stop me from wanting it, or giving in completely when he finally touched me the way I'd dreamt of for years.