Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
The lights stutter on to reveal Parker sprawled on the floor, tangled in his crutches, with the ball-gag squirrel on his back beside him, like a very kinky accomplice.
I can’t help it, my hand flies to my back pocket, whipping out my cell and snapping a pic before Parker can finish warning, “Don’t you dare!”
“Come on! Just open the door!” The voice outside is frantic now. “Please!”
“Coming,” Parker and I shout in unison, abandoning all pretense that there’s only one of us in here.
She’s about to find out the truth anyway.
I help a cussing Parker to his feet, giggling as quietly as possible. By the time we’ve got his crutches back in his pits and hobble to the exit, we’re both sniggering beneath our breath.
I throw open the door to reveal a woman holding a stinky toddler with golden curls a shade lighter than mine. The little girl looks very proud of the disaster she’s made in her pants.
Meanwhile, her mother’s eyes go wide as her mouth forms a perfect ‘O’ of disapproval.
“Sorry,” I mumble, sidling past her. “All yours.”
Parker follows me, also muttering his amends.
We make it exactly three steps before a tiny voice pipes up. “Squirrel!”
I glance back to see the toddler pointing right at me.
“No, honey,” her mother says, her voice dripping with disdain. “That’s something else that starts with S.”
My jaw drops.
No way, she didn’t just…
The woman swoops into the bathroom, slamming the door with prejudice and a side of slut shaming.
Parker and I stand frozen for a beat.
Then he snorts. “Pretty sure she called you a ho.”
“I know,” I say, fighting a smile. “I’d be offended but… Well, I was just jerking a guy off in a public bathroom.”
He snorts again. “You sure were, babe.” He takes my hand, giving it a squeeze as he adds in a paternal way, “And I couldn’t be prouder.”
“Oh, shut up,” I say, elbowing him in the ribs as we stumble back toward the bar, giggling like we got away with the prank of the century. My body still hums from his touch, still aches for more, but the absurdity of our exit from the loo has taken the edge off.
For the moment anyway, but I know that won’t last long.
“We should go home,” I say. “Now.”
“So fast,” he agrees. “Grab your purse and call a car. I’ll pay the tab and meet you by the door.”
“Roger that.”
We split up—him to the bar, me to our booth to gather our things. My new phone screen lights up with a few missed texts as I tug my cell from my pocket again, but I ignore them, pulling up the rideshare app instead.
My hands are still shaking a little. But from laughter, adrenaline, or how desperate I was to come five minutes ago, I’m not sure.
Probably all three.
When I’m done, I turn to see Parker finishing up at the bar. His hair is a disaster—my fault. His shirt is still mostly unbuttoned—also my fault. But he’s hauling serious ass on those crutches as he heads toward me, somehow managing to look graceful and powerful, even when accommodating an injury.
God, he’s gorgeous.
And funny.
And really nice to me.
How terrifying is that?
Chuck transforming from the guy who rescued me by the highway to a dickhead who cheated on me and held my record collection hostage for seven months was bad enough.
But Parker? Parker drove through a building for me.
Parker moved me into his guest room free of charge, bought me a new wardrobe as a “first day as a homeless person” surprise, and refused to let me pay him back.
Parker just gave me the most intense almost-orgasm of my life while surrounded by squirrels in bondage gear.
If he turns out to be a bad guy somewhere down the line…
I tell myself he won’t. I tell myself that with Parker, what you see is what you get. But another voice in my head says the best predictor of the future is the past, and I’ve never picked a good one.
Never.
Every man I’ve dated since Tanner, my first true love, has been a bastard in nice guy’s clothing. And Tanner was no angel, not really. He was my teacher, for fuck’s sake. It was completely inappropriate that we started flirting when I was still an eighteen-year-old kid in his classroom, even if we did wait to seal the deal until I graduated.
And things ended with him when we were still in the honeymoon phase. If I hadn’t left the safety of his arms to explore the world, maybe his arms would have turned out to be not-so-safe, too.
I suck in a breath, willing the inner spiral to slow its roll.
Parker’s headed across the bar.
Our car is almost here.
Soon, we’ll be on our way to his place to fuck like bunnies, and that’s fine! I can handle it. I’m totally ready for us to be alone, rapidly sobering up, and coming to terms with the need for “new rules” in the light of the fact that we’re about to become lovers for real.