“You always roll your eyes. Yes? No? You’re wasting precious date time.”
He knew me so well. I fought the urge to ask him to pick me up right then. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought.
“Yes!” I said in a hushed voice, trying not to laugh. “I’ll go.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven.”
I turned to Parker, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
“Travis?” he asked with a knowing expression.
“Yes,” I frowned, caught.
“You’re still just friends?”
“Still just friends,” I nodded once.
We sat at the table, eating Chinese takeout. I warmed up to him after a while, and he reminded me of how charming he was. I felt lighter, almost giggly, a marked change from earlier. As hard as I tried to push the thought from my head, I couldn’t deny that it was my plans with Travis that had brightened my mood.
After dinner, we sat on the couch to watch a movie, but before the beginning credits were over, Parker had me on my back. I was glad I had chosen to wear jeans; I wouldn’t have been able to fend him off as easily in a dress. His lips traveled down to my collarbone, and his hand stopped at my belt. He clumsily worked to pull it open, and once it popped, I slid out from under him to stand up.
“Okay! I think a single is all you’ll be hitting tonight,” I said, buckling my belt.
“What?”
“First base … .second base? Never mind. It’s late, I better go.”
He sat up and gripped my legs. “Don’t go, Abs. I don’t want you to think that’s why I brought you here.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Of course not,” he said, pulling me onto his lap. “You’re all I’ve thought about for two weeks. I apologize for being impatient.”
He kissed my cheek, and I leaned into him, smiling when his breath tickled my neck. I turned to him and pressed my lips against his, trying my hardest to feel something—but I didn’t. I pulled away from him and sighed.
Parker furrowed his brow. “I said I was sorry.”
“I said it was late.”
We drove to Morgan, and Parker squeezed my hand after he kissed me goodnight. “Let’s try again. Biasetti’s tomorrow?”
I pressed my lips together. “I’m bowling with Travis tomorrow.”
“Wednesday, then?”
“Wednesday’s great,” I said, offering a contrived smile.
Parker shifted in his seat. He was working up to something. “Abby? There’s a date party in a couple weekends at the House. …”
I inwardly cringed, dreading the discussion we would inevitably have.
“What?” he asked, chuckling nervously.
“I can’t go with you,” I said, letting myself out of the car.
He followed, meeting me at the Morgan entrance. “You have plans?”
I winced. “I have plans … Travis already asked me.”