What's Left Of Me Part 15

Parker helps me into the car and I immediately put my head back on the headrest, shutting my eyes. My head is throbbing and my neck is on fire.

Parker lightly taps on the pa.s.senger window, causing me to open my eyes. He holds up a finger and mouths, "One minute," then quickly walks back inside. I close my eyes, again, praying the pain medication kicks in fast.

The door opens and Parker slides in. After a few minutes of driving, he reaches over and brushes some hair off my face. "You okay?"

"I'll be fine, thank you. I think it's just a migraine."

"Just rest your eyes. We'll be there soon."

I fall in and out of sleep, not paying attention to when the car comes to a stop. I feel as if I'm floating as the drugs set in. Parker opens my door and it's then I realize we're not at Genna's.

"Where are we?" I ask, looking around the parking garage.

"My place. Jason said Genna is working and I want to make sure you're okay. My place is closer and I have some things I can do. You can lie down and rest. It's a win-win."

"Why would you want to be around me when I'm not feeling well? I'll be no fun."

"Because I enjoy your company, and I want to make sure you're taken care of."

"Thank you, Parker."

He gets out of the car, and I watch as he makes his way around the front. I grab my purse, bringing it to my lap as he makes his final steps to my door. As much as I'd like to be home, I'm happy he brought me here.

"Come on." He takes my hand, helping me out. His arm slides across my lower back, hooking onto my hip. He guides me up the parking ramp, through the building, and up to his apartment right into his bedroom.

"Here. You can nap here." He gestures to the neatly made bed.

My eyes widen. I start to back out of his hold, but he tightens his arms on me. "Aundrea, it's nothing. My bed is more comfortable than the couch." He pauses and clears his throat. I think back to our first night together and waking up in his bed.

Parker slips me out of his hold. "I'll be out in the living room if you need me." His lips press down on top of my head as I close my eyes, taking in his freshly-shaven scent. He walks me over to the bed, allowing me to climb in. Closing my eyes, I listen to him make his way back to the door.

"Aundrea?"

"Hmm?"

"I really like your new hairstyle."

My eyes fly open, and I sit up to see him watching me.

"Don't think I didn't notice. I like it ... a lot." I wonder what else he's noticed, too, then. "Get some sleep."

I lie back down, staring up at the ceiling. I don't have to look at him to know he gave me a wink.

I wake up to a dark, quiet room. My head and neck are no longer pounding. I feel a slight ache in my legs, but swing them over the edge of the bed anyway. Glancing at the closed door, I quickly take off my rumpled wig fixing all the strands so they're in the right direction. After placing it back on my head, and pressing it securely to my scalp for the tape to take, I make my way out into the living room to find Parker.

His place smells amazing. It's a mixture of herbs, pasta boiling, and some kind of tomato sauce.

"Parker?" I call from the living room.

"In the kitchen."

He's standing behind the open counter that leads into the dining room. He's drinking a beer and leaning over the stove, wooden spoon in hand.

"Feel better?" he asks with his back to me.

"Much." And I am.

"Good. I'm making spinach and chicken stuffed pasta sh.e.l.ls. Hope you're hungry."

"Very! It smells amazing, Parker." I go to stand next to him, getting a better look at the contents of the pan.

"I hope it tastes as good as it smells. I've rarely cooked in this place so, if not, I have the pizza place around the corner on speed dial."

The dinner is amazing. I even have seconds, which surprises us both. I love how laid back he is. Instead of eating at the counter or table, we make a picnic on the living room floor laughing, drinking beer, and eating until our stomachs are about to explode.

I don't want to bring up Bryn, but I can't stop the words from leaving my mouth.

"Is there something going on with you and Bryn?"

Parker nearly chokes on his beer, coughing. "Excuse me?"

"Bryn. She just seems to always be where you are, laughing at everything you say. She sits with you at lunch, walks in with you in the mornings. I'm just curious if there is something there."

"No," he says, looking directly at me. He repeats it a second time, moving closer to me.

I must not look convinced because he sets his beer down. "Listen, Bryn and I went on a couple of dates when I first started my internship. I didn't know anyone. I was new to the city, and she took me under her wing; showed me around. We had fun, but it wasn't anything serious. Once my internship was coming to an end and I got more serious about working with Jason, as partner, I told her we could only be friends. She took it well. It was amicable."

"Did you sleep together?" Do I want to know this? Do I care? Yes.

He runs his hands through his hair. I'm beginning to think this is his nervous tell sign. "No."

At least she didn't get all of him.

"Okay." I pause, searching for more to say. I don't have a right to discuss his s.e.x life prior to me. "I just don't think she really believes your friends status. She's always drooling over you."

"Is someone jealous?" he teases.

"No."

"Are you sure? Because I know women. They say they're not, but secretly they're planning some way to take the b.i.t.c.h down."

I laugh. Not just a small laugh, but a full-on, stomach-clenching, throw-your-head-back laugh. "I'm serious! I'm not jealous."

He laughs as he gets up to clear our plates. "You want another beer?"

"Sure." Discussion closed.

He gets comfortable on the floor with his back against the couch. He pulls on my arm, bringing me closer to him. Sliding a leg around my body, he brings me flat against his chest, so I'm sitting between his legs. Reaching over to his right, he picks up the two beer bottles, handing me one. "Here you are, my lady."

"Why thank you, kind sir."

We clink the bottles together and I take a sip. I'm not a big beer fan, but I do like the taste every now and then. This is my third, and I'm already feeling it go to my head. My doctor says it's okay to have a few drinks now and again during chemo, but with my low blood counts it may affect me differently. I mostly stay away from alcohol altogether, but being here with him makes it easy to forget about everything else going on.

"Aundrea?"

"Hmm?"

"There really is nothing going on between Bryn and me. I just want you to know that."

"I believe you."

"Good, because it's only you I want."

I stiffen.

He brings my hand to his lips, giving it a small kiss. "You don't have to say anything, but I know you feel it too, as much as you try to fight it. But, just so you know, I will be right here waiting when you're ready."

I can only give a slight nod. Any words that I want to form are lodged in the back of my throat. My heart is pounding. I know this would be a good time to tell him about my cancer, but I chicken out.

Parker's MP3 player is on, and I'm thankful when a loud song blasts through the speakers. It's some rock song and I can't make out anything the singer is saying. The words blend together and the loud guitar drowns out his voice.

"Who is this?"

"Who is this? It's one of the best bands ever. Death Line."

"One of the best? They sound like some high school garage band."

"You're joking." He moves so that he can get a decent look at my face. His eyes are wide with shock.

"No! I'm not. You can't make out anything he's saying-or, rather, screaming." I laugh.

"You can't be serious. That's what they do. They rock. They make actual music. They're legends."

I take this as a good opportunity to bring up the concert tickets Jean got for this Sat.u.r.day night. I haven't asked Parker yet. I've been waiting for the right time.

"As much as I find all this talk about Death Line fascinating, I have a question for you."

"Uh oh!" He sets his beer down. "Okay, I'm ready. What do you have for me?"

"Well, my friend Jean got these tickets to see a local rock band on Sat.u.r.day night. I'm not sure who they are, or if they're any good. And maybe you already have plans because it's short notice and all, but I thought ... maybe, you know ... if you wanted to, that maybe ..."

Since when did I start sounding like a loser fumbling her words?

"Aundrea, are you trying to ask me on a date?" he asks teasingly.

"No. Not a date. Just maybe, you know ... a night out."

I stop talking. Who am I kidding? I am trembling with nerves. I don't understand why he makes me so nervous, and all I'm doing is making this sound a lot worse than it needs to. How did I ever pick this man up in a bar? Or, better question: why did he let me?

"Yes. I am asking you on a date."

"Then ask me."

"I did."

"No. You just mumbled and stumbled your way through it."

Taking in a deep breath, I start again, "Parker, I would very much like it if you would go to a rock show with me this Sat.u.r.day with my friend Jean, and possibly have dinner prior. I know it's short notice, but if you're free, I'd like you to come with me."

"See. Was it that hard?"

"Yes."

He gives me a grin, shaking his head slightly and holding a laugh back. "Thank you for the invite. I'm not sure what I have going on Sat.u.r.day night, but I'll let you know." I watch as he takes a swig of his beer, as if the words he just said were no big deal. My mouth gapes open and I just stare at him in shock. Is he kidding me?

"Are you kidding me?"

"What?" he asks with a hint of amus.e.m.e.nt. I can see the smile forming, but he's trying desperately to hide it.

"You just made me ask you that so you could tell me you'll have to let me know? Really?"

"Yes." His mouth falls back into a straight line.

I shake my head in disbelief. I have a feeling he is kidding, but I'm not totally sure. I make my way to a standing position, but before I can stand all the way, Parker grabs my arm and pulls me back down so that I land on his lap. I fall right into his crossed legs, fitting perfectly in the small s.p.a.ce.

Laughing, I try to pull out of his hold. "What?"

His head lowers to my neck, lingering for a few seconds, and I go still. Most women in this situation would be begging for him to kiss them, or to feel his lips brush their neck, but I'm not your typical woman. As much as I wish I were thinking about him touching his lips to my skin, I'm too concerned that he'll notice my hair has a different texture than before. Or worse, that it's longer on one side than the other from sliding down with the sudden pull into his lap.

Closing my eyes, I take in his irresistible scent. He smells divine, and for just one minute I get lost in his scent, letting all other thoughts leave my head.

He does exactly what I thought he would do. He brings his lips to the top of my shoulder and lightly brushes my skin. "So soft," he whispers against my collarbone.

"Hmmm?"

"Your skin. It's so soft. I love how soft you feel. How good you smell." I hear him breathe in my scent, trailing his nose gently along my neck and up to the back of my ear. Gooseb.u.mps cover my body, and suddenly any thought or care I may have had about my hair is out the window for good. My arms go limp, and I relax into him.

"Pears. It's always the d.a.m.n pears." His tongue comes out, barely licking me, and I swear I just turned into a puddle.

I sigh. I can't respond. Not even if I tried.

His hand traces the scar on the right side of my neck with a feather light touch. "What happened here?" he asks as his lips brush against it.

"An unfortunate event when I was a teenager."

His lips reach out and touch the bottom of my ear lobe. "I'm sorry," he breathes into my ear. He barely touches me with his mouth, and his voice sends tingles down my body. I can feel his warm breath down my neck. I know if I just turn my head slightly to the left, my lips will meet his and then it will be all over.

"You know I would go anywhere you asked me to, right? I was just messing with you earlier."