Page 131 of Playing the Pucking Game
“Cole Hansley has got the moves,” Parker sings, and when I twist my head to look over, I find her wiggling her hips and waving her arms in front of her. “Next time we all go out, I’m dragging him to the dance floor.”
“I’d love to see you try,” I deadpan. The thought of her trying to drag his six-foot-two body anywhere is laughable.
“I’ll make it happen,” she says confidently.
“If anyone can, it’s you, little P.”
She lets out an exhausted sigh.
“I should probably get to bed. But…” She lifts her head from the armrest and makes a show of glancing in the direction of our bedrooms. “They’re just so far away.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Do you need me to carry you to bed?”
The second the offer leaves my lips, Parker’s body tenses.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt before really thinking about what I want to say. “About that comment. About what happened last week, the things I did, the things I said. It was out of line, and I?—”
“It’s okay,” she says softly.
“No, it’s not. I took it too far and pushed you away. That’s the last thing I want to do. You’re a part of us now, little P. We’ve got to work together, and the best way to do that is to be friends.”
The word fucking stings. I’ve never wanted to be just friends with Parker, but that’s where she’s always drawn the line. Hell, most of the time she doesn’t even call us that.
“Yeah,” she muses. “It is. I’m sorry for avoiding you this week.”
“Oh, have you? I hadn’t noticed.”
“You’re not funny, Storm.”
“Ah, but I am sometimes.”
“Annoying, more like.”
“I love it when you give me shit. It means everything is alright in our world.”
“Yep, you being an asshole is very normal.”
I chuckle and shift onto my side on the couch.
“Parker?”
“Yeah,” she responds before turning onto her side and staring across the dance mats at me.
“I like having you here. It’s less…lonely.”
She shakes her head. “You’re such a little liar, Lincoln Storm.”
I rear back. “I am not. I’ve never lied to you, Parker Donnelly.”
“Whatever you say,” she mutters.
“I’m serious.”
“Okay,” she mumbles, but it’s clear that she doesn’t believe a word of it.
“Ready for another travel day tomorrow?”
“Yep. I’ve never been to New York.”
