Page 105 of Best Friends for Never

She fists her hands in my shirt, tugging me closer, and I lose myself in her. The way she fits against me, the way she always smells like peppermint, the way she feels, the way she tastes.

I’m gone for Parker Pruitt, and I don’t give a shit who knows it.

“All right, you two. Break it up,” Astrid says, but the love in her voice is evident. “We’re supposed to be working. We have four hours until the fundraiser starts.”

Thatgets Parker to pull away.

She tries to wiggle out of my embrace, but I don’t let her, even though all eyes are on us at this point.

She grins up at me. “See what you started? Now they all know.”

“So? Does that bother you?”

“No.”

“Parker . . .”

“Fine.” She sighs. “Sort of. It’s just ... This town likes to talk, you know?”

There’s worry in her eyes, and I’m not entirely surprised by it, given her comments on how she feels about my Hollywood lifestyle and fame and how it would bother her to have everyone in her business.

“And you don’t want them talking about us,” I guess, and she nods. “I could have my agent step in and shut down whatever trash theGazettemight try to print.”

“I appreciate it, but I don’t want it to come to that. I just ...” Another sigh. “I don’t know what I want.”

“Other than me?”

“Other than you, Noel.”

She pushes to her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine. This time, the kiss is brief and over far too soon for my liking, and when she pulls away, I let her go.

Two hours later, we’re ready to call it a day so we can get ready before the event in T-minus two hours.

“Wow, Parker. It looks great in here,” Garth says as he takes it all in. “I can’t believe it’s the same place.”

“I do what I can.” She grins at him. “You’ll be ready to go at seven?”

“Yep. I got my team prepping everything in the kitchen. We got sliders, jojos, wings, and chili-cheese fries on the menu for the evening. They’re our bestsellers, so we should bring in a lot of money for the theater, even with them on sale.”

“Oh man. I haven’t had jojos in far too long. I tried ordering them when I first got to LA, and they looked at me funny, then brought me a plate of potato wedges. Just regular potatoes, sliced up. No breading, no spices, and they weren’t even orange. Definitely not fried like they should be either.”

Parker gasps. “That’s insulting! They’re totally different!”

“I know.”

She shakes her head, then looks to Garth. “And the booze?”

“Pints are three bucks, pitchers are sixteen, and bottle buckets are twenty.”

“Mixed drinks?”

He smiles. “Don’t worry, I have your whiskey sours on sale tonight.”

He winks at her, she blushes, and I fucking hate it.

I step forward, wrap my arm around her, and tug her close.

There’s no mistaking what I’m doing, and Garth tracks every move I make. His eyes widen slightly, then he meets my hard stare and it becomes clear.

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