Page 33 of The Fire
“Only my pride. Again.” I thought about it. “Possibly my ass.”
“Did you ever wonder if maybe you had too much pride to start with?”
I looked up at him through the falling snow. “Me?No. And I’m pretty sure that’s not the kind of thing you say to a polite stranger.”
Jamie snorted. “I think we need to have a truce,” he said. “Before one of us gets hurt.”
That one of us beingme. Well, fine. I could be decent if he could. And besides which, I’d never been able to stay mad at Jamie too long. I simply liked the man too much.
So when Jamie held out a hand to me, I took it. And for the second time that day, I let him put me back on my feet.
Chapter Four
Jamie
“You can have the first shower,”I said, as I hauled Parker’s suitcase into the kitchen. “Warm yourself up.”
“’Kay.” Parker sounded meek as he walked in behind me, and I almost wanted to turn and look at him, but I didn’t. I’d been looking at him way too much already and it was giving me a head rush, kinda the way alcohol goes to your brain when you haven’t had any in a while. The supposedly impenetrable fortress in my mind where I kept my memories of Parker-and-Jamie was falling fast.
But how the hell was I supposed to stay angry at the man when he persisted in being so fucking cute and vulnerable and...Parker.
I put the suitcase down on the floor by the oven, toed off my wet boots, and pulled open the fridge to peer inside. “Have you eaten anything? I’ve got eggs. Ham and turkey for sandwiches. I could cook up some chicken. Or risotto, if you wanna be fancy.” I pulled open the crisper. “And I have salad fixings, if you’re into that.” I glanced over my shoulder when he didn’t respond. “Parker?”
He still didn’t reply, so I turned all the way around and saw him standing stock-still in the open doorway, still holding that stupid box, dripping all over the Spanish tiles. He was looking around the room with wide eyes.
“What?” I demanded, following his gaze. Everything looked okay to me. Normal. Same sunny yellow walls, red-brown floor, and dark wood cabinets I saw every day. And the cleaners had come the weekend before so nothing was particularly dirty. Even the dishes were done. “What’s wrong?”
Parker shook his head like he was coming out of a dream. “No. Nothing’s wrong. It’s just… it looks the same as the last time I was here.”
“Oh.” I frowned. “Yeah. I’ve never bothered redecorating.”
“No, but I meanexactlythe same, Jame. Like, I walked in here and expected your dad to be sitting right there”—he nodded at one of the chairs—“drinking beer and reading the newspaper.” He set his box on the table. “And your mom should be standing at the sink smoking a cigarette with the window open. And Molly should be sitting here”—he trailed a hand over one of the chairs and smiled—“giving her shit about secondhand smoke. It’s just… weird that they’re not here. Especially Molly.” He blinked at me. “Isn’t it?”
There were alotof responses that occurred to me.
Fuck you,was first and foremost.
You couldn’t last five fucking minutes without trotting out the memories, huh?came second.
But because he was right—because what he saw was exactly what I saw when I walked into this room, andholy shit, I hadn’t realized just how badly I needed someone to see the same ghosts I saw untilright that minute—what I said was, “Moll’s been gone a long time, Parker. All of them have.”
“Yeah.” He nodded but frowned at the same time. “Not for me, though. Last time I was in this room, she hadn’t been gone a year.”
Parker’s light hair was plastered to his head, his cheeks were bright red, his nose was runny, and I had to look away because he was staring at me with tears in his eyes and… I wanted to kiss the shit out of him.
Fucking stupid brain.
There’d been a naked man in my dining room maybe two hours before, offering me sex and companionship onmyterms, and all I’d been able to think wasgo away. But this soggy lump of human who’dliterallyhad me fighting in the middle of the street in a blizzard and who threatened my sanity with every word out of his mouth?Hegot me hard.
I’d never really understood why people wanted to jump out of airplanes or stick their heads in lions’ mouths, but I was pretty sure I’d somehow gotten infected with the same strain of crazy.
I turned and shut the refrigerator, but kept staring at it like the selection of magnets arrayed on the door was fascinating. “You know, if my mother were here, she’d be bitching because you were making a puddle on her kitchen floor. And if you die of hypothermia,yourmom’s gonna have me arrested. So go shower. If you need any clothes, grab some from my room.”
“Your room?” Parker sniffed like he was trying to get control of himself, and I pretended not to notice. “You still sleep in your old—”
“Yes,” I said shortly, inviting no more questions. “I still do. Just easier that way. And towels are still in the—”
“I know,” he said. He grabbed the handle of his suitcase and dragged it down the hall without another word.
