Page 125 of Best Friends for Never

Do I plan on coming back? Yes.

Do I know when I can actually make that happen? No.

I wish I had more for her than I do, but since I can’t give her a definitive answer right now, I don’t want to make a promise I can’t keep.

“I’ll be back,” I tell her, deepening my voice like Arnold Schwarzenegger inTerminator, trying to keep the mood light.

It works, and even Clifford laughs at the impression.

I’m saved from talking about it anymore when the screen flickers to life, signaling the movie’s start.

Parker relaxes against me once more. She reaches for the cheddar cheese popcorn she brought and pops a few pieces into her mouth before offering me some.

She giggles when I snake my tongue against her fingers and then wipes them dramatically onmypants.

I allow it because I’ll do anything to keep her smiling.

“You never did tell me what movie we were watching,” I whisper as the movie starts.

She shuffles in my arms. “I didn’t?” she asks. “Well, I guess you’ll see. Now, shhh. The movie’s starting.”

The music begins to swell, and vaguely familiar images flash across the screen. Then, briefly, the title flutters across the screen, and I suddenly know why Parker didn’t mention the film’s title. It’s one of mine—a romantic comedy about an assistant who falls for his boss.

I groan, and she laughs.

“Well, would you look at that?” She grins at me. “It’s one of yours.”

“It’s a good thing you never auditioned for any of the plays at the Goodman Theater. You’re a terrible actress.”

She gasps. “How dare you. And I’ll have you know it’s called the Noel Carter Theater now. Maybe you’ve heard of him. He’s some hotshot actor. We’re about to watch one of his movies. I’ve heard he takes his shirt off in this one.” She bounces her brows up and down a few times.

She’s right. Idotake my shirt off in this one.

“What if I told you it’s a body double?”

“Please.” She rolls her eyes. “I’ve seen you shirtless countless times. I can count your abs in my sleep. I’ll be able to tell.”

I shake my head with a smile. “Just watch the movie, Peter.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice. I love this one.”

“You’re lucky. I really,reallyhate watching my own stuff.”

“I think most actors do. But tell you what. You get through this with me, and I’ll make it worth your while later.”

She grins suggestively, and miraculously, I amthrilledto watch my own movie.

“Deal.”

She laughs, earning us a few glances from around the park, but I don’t care. I want her happy. I want her laughing. I want these next three days to be full of moments like this.

When my character appears on-screen, the whole park erupts into cheers, and I wish like hell I could run far, far away.

Instead, I wave to them, accepting their love and support, then bury my face in Parker’s neck, sending her into another fit of giggles as I pepper her with kisses.

By the time the movie is over, I’m more than ready to be done.

I shove to my feet, dragging Parker up with me, and practically throw our belongings into the basket. I don’t even bother folding the blankets back up; I just stuff them right in there too.

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