Mixed Up(60)

His hand in my hair. His body against mine.

I wanted more than just the memory of those things. I wanted the reality of them, and that was why I couldn't speak. The words were stuck on my tongue, whatever they were. I had no idea what I wanted to say. This entire situation needed to be cleaned up, but I didn't know how to do that. I didn't think some lemon spray and a wet cloth would cover this.



       
         
       
        

Hell, a bottle full of bleach wasn't anywhere near enough for what we needed.

"I have to say that you excel at talking." Parker spoke after several silent, awkward minutes. "I agree with everything you've said."

My gaze flicked to him, and I glared. "I know asshole is your default mode, but there's no need to throw yourself into it so enthusiastically."

His quiet chuckle danced across my skin. "I know, but I want you to start talking before you bore me to death."

"I'll kill you myself if I have to."

"There's the Raven I know so well."

"You're such a monumental cockend."

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. Except when you moaned my name, of course."

I bristled. "I did not moan such a thing."

He quirked an eyebrow. "I heard you loud and clear, hotshot. It was practically a fucking prayer."

"Then I need to get to church and pray for my soul."

"I'll join you. Your soul needs more than one prayer."

"You're making this impossible!" I grabbed my drink and swallowed a mouthful. A shiver ran through me at the cocktail's potency. That was what happened when my brain overtook my common sense.

Hell reigned free.

"Then talk." Parker's words were clear and concise.

This was all I had. If I didn't talk soon, he would, then I'd be screwed.

"What the hell do we do?" My words spilled from my mouth before I could do a thing about them. "How do we take what we did and move forward? Are we meant to pretend it didn't happen?"

"Yeah." He said the word so simply, I didn't think he'd bothered to think about it at all. "That's exactly what we have to do. Never discussing it again is the only way Ryan will never find out."

"Right. Of course. So simple." I sipped from my glass again. It burned as I swallowed.

"Actually, doing that is another thing," Parker continued. "Because from my own personal experience, when I think about something too much, I tend to voice it. Which means I'm pretty fucked, because I can't stop thinking about fucking you."

I set my glass down and avoided eye contact. "I can see how that would be a problem for you."

"I see how this is going. I'm talking and you're avoiding. In more ways than one."

"It's pretty cocky of you to assume I've done nothing but think about having sex with you." Cocky, not incorrect. If only he were wrong.

"Cocky, confident...Are they really that different?"

"Parker, you're a fully-grown man. Stop talking to me like you're a dumb teenager, because if that's the way this conversation is going to go, I'm not interested." I swung my gaze up to meet his and found him scooting across the sofa to me. 

His eyes were dark and hooded as he got closer, and his attention dropped to my lips for the barest fraction of a section before his gaze settled comfortably on mine. He was right next to me now, within touching distance, and that was exactly what he did.

He touched my hair, teasing several strands between his finger and thumb. A shiver tickled across my arms, and he leaned in, bringing his lips too close to mine. "You want to have a conversation like an adult, Raven? Then stop hiding stuff. Be honest with me about how you're feeling right now. That works two ways, hotshot. You can't have me be honest with you only to keep your own feelings inside."

"Actually, that sounds like the perfect way for this conversation to-"

He cut me off by pressing his thumb against my lips. His eyes still focused on mine, he said, "My biggest problem with you right now isn't that I can't stop thinking about what we did. It's not even that there isn't a part of me that doesn't want to lie you back right now and fuck you all over again. My biggest problem with you is that I'm trying to hate you the way I have done for years, and I can't."

Uh-oh.

"I want you more than I hate you, and that screws with me. Because no matter how many smart comments you make at me or how you try to hide how you're feeling, I can't deny the fact that a part of me wants more than just your body."

Oh no.

Now we were in trouble.

I didn't know what to say back to that. He wanted me to be honest? Fine, but it wasn't as easy as he thought it was. Putting the way I felt right now into words was impossible, because I had no idea how I felt.