Lukas
Watching Parker swing her hips as she goes inside, knowing that I can’t even touch her, is a special kind of torture. As soon as she’s out of sight, I drop the drive plate on the workbench with a sigh.
The engine on the Civic is completely shot. The drive plate is cracked, the seals are basically crumbling, and worst of all, the bearings are toast. There’s so much metal shaved off in her oil that I’m actually surprised the radiator went first.
The car is unfixable. It would cost at least twice what the Civic is worth to repair the damn thing. Factoring in the age and overall shittiness of the car, rolling it off a cliff for the $10 insurance payout would be the most financially sound outcome.
I should tell her the truth, but I know Parker can’t afford a new car. It’s going to ruin her day and stress her out. And selfishly, I don’t want to do that right now. I could just buy her a new one, courtesy of my trust fund, but we’re two days into a relationship and that feels… excessive. I know she wants to stand on her own two feet, but I’m going to have to convince her to let me help because I don’t think I’m capable of standing by and watching her struggle.
At the moment, the only plan I can come up with is having Parker keep my truck while I “work” on her car. Asher won’t like it sitting in the bay, taking up space, but at least it will buy me some time to come up with a better plan.
I’m still mulling it over in my head, cleaning up as best as I can. Getting all the stains off my hands is a losing battle, even with the industrial-strength hand scrub we keep around, but at least I’ll be able to grab Parker by the hips and pull her close without ruining her clothes.
You’ve already gotten me dirty once today.
Just thinking about her whispering those words has me adjusting myself. I feel like I keep peeling back layers of Parker to find dirtier, sexier layers underneath, and I fucking love that no one but me would even suspect it. I want to take her out for dinner, but first I’m going to put her ass on my desk and eat her pussy until she screams.
I’m just about to leave the bathroom when my phone rings in my pocket. “Fuck,” I mutter when I see Lilah’s name on the caller ID. I could screen the call, but I know she won’t let up. I might as well get it over with.
“Hey,” I answer warily. “Am I about to get my ass chewed out? Just trying to prepare myself.”
“No…” Lilah trails off. “Parker doesn’t need me to protect her from you. She’s a grownup.”
She pauses and I wait, unwilling to say anything that’s going to piss her off. I am intimately aware of how grown-up Parker is, but saying so would push Lilah’s buttons in the worst way.
“Do I know the entire story with you and Sadie?” she asks abruptly. I’m not sure what I expected, but it sure as hell wasn’t that.
“No,” I answer truthfully, but god help me, I don’t want to share the specifics with my sisters.
“Do I want to know the whole story?”
“Probably not,” I hedge. “Why are you asking about this?”
Lilah laughs awkwardly. “Olive, Julia, and I had lunch with Parker today.”
I grind my teeth and swear softly.
“We wanted to make sure she knew we were still here for her. You made this really awkward, you know that?”
“It’s none of your business,” I grit out.
“Oh, I’m aware!” Lilah laughs. “Parker made it pretty clear that she can handle her own shit, which I love by the way. She also pointed out that maybe I haven’t had the whole picture when it comes to you. And if that’s true, I just thought… maybe I haven’t been totally fair either.”
I’m speechless. I can’t believe she stood up for me like that. To Lilah, of all people.
“It’s fine,” I tell her.
“Well… I’m sorry, anyway. She really likes you, you know,” she says.
“What did she say?” I ask, peeking around the corner of the bathroom door. I can see Parker’s shadow moving in my office.
Lilah laughs, “Not much. And I’m not breaking girl code. I just thought you should know.”
I know I’ve got a stupid-looking grin on my face when I step into my office, but it freezes when I see Parker sitting behind my desk with my sketchbook open in front of her. Blood pounds in my ears, panic rising in my chest. How could I have left that lying around for her to find? My gut reaction is to snatch it away, afraid that she’s going to freak out when she sees what I’ve drawn. I’ve never shown those to anyone and I’m well aware how fucking stalkery it looks to have a bunch of sketches of her from before we were even dating.
The only thing that stops me from grabbing it and tossing it out the window is the admiration on Parker’s face. She’s staring at the sketch I drew this afternoon of her wearing my shirt. In my bed. Her fingertips are pressed to her lips as her eyes glide over the paper, filled with the softest, sweetest expression I’ve ever seen. The panic in my chest subsides. I can’t argue with that expression.
“I should know better than to leave you alone in here by now,” I say.