Page 60 of The Publicity Stunt
His smile fades. “Okay, what do you want to talk about, then?” he says stiffly.
I look down at the table and twist the hem of my skirt in my lap. Parker has always been direct with his words. Not one to beat around the bush. But his brutal persona has never been directed at me before. The Hayden Parker I knew had to be bribed with two Marvel Funko Pops just to ride Space Mountain with me. What changed between then and now that led him to become a stunt double? Maybe the same thing led him to become this harsh toward me.
My eyes peruse the tuft of curls falling over his forehead.
“I’m sorry. That came out wrong.” He reaches forward, and to my disappointment, just as quickly pulls his hand back. “It’s just … I’ve missed you for a long time, April. And now you’re here, sitting in front of me, and I just—I don’t want to miss you again. Never again,” he says, nearly unblinking. “If you don’t want to talk about us, then that’s fine too. It’s been eight years since I’ve heard your voice, April.” He offers up a defeated smile. “I’ll listen to anything you have to say.”
I half open my mouth but no sound comes out. What do I even say to that? If being together was that easy, I never would’ve left to begin with. We broke up for a very real reason, one that still exists. Thankfully, our waitress chooses that exact moment to return with our drinks, giving me ample time to get it together. She puts the two beers and the neon-colored pink and green drinks smack in the middle of the table and walks over to another set of customers.
I look at Parker, he looks at me, and I know we’re both thinking the same thing.
These drinks look absolutely disgusting.
He picks up the green goblet with a soggy pineapple on the rim. “Nothing this green could ‘revive’ anything. I’m going to say this is the Ecstasy, and the Pepto Bismol is the Reviver.”
As he runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even more, I reach out for what we’re assuming is the Ecstasy. “Are we sure this didn’t come from the CDC labs?” I raise the glass and analyze the thick green liquid from the bottom.
“Cheers?” Parker says.
I look up from my glass. His hand braces the table and he leans forward, clinking the edge of my glass with his. The sound sends a tingling vibration down my spine and I feel it slip into my bloodstream, warm and electric. My body reacts as though he just touched me.
Parker sips on his drink and I sip on mine, all the while not breaking eye contact with each other and trying our very best not to laugh. I’m about to put my glass down, but he widens his eyes and starts chugging the drink, prompting me to do the same with his other hand. And I don’t even hesitate.
I bring the glass back to my lips because apparently, we’ve entered ourselves into a college drinking tournament, using glasses instead of red plastic cups because you know, we’re thirty and hence sophisticated.
After five seconds, both of us slam the empty glasses back down on the wooden surface, hard enough to make a point but not hard enough to break them.
“That was disgusting!” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I feel very ecstatized.”
“Ecstatized?”
“Mm-hm,” I nod. “Ecstatized.”
“That’s not a word.” Wincing like my verbiage physically hurts him, he slides the glass away and reaches for the sweaty beer bottle.
“What are you, the word police? All words are made up, Parker.”
He lifts the pint of Heineken to his lips and takes a swig. “Fair point. Ecstatized it is.” His broad fingers curl around the neck of the bottle, his lips wrap perfectly over the opening, and the outline of his throat bobs with each sip. I am hypnotized. Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Want To Have Fun” starts to play and the introductory beat knocks me out of my trance.
“Jesus, April,” he says, putting the beer down.
“What?” I bite my cheek and sink into my seat.
“You really need to stop looking at me like that.”
A prickling sensation forms along the nape of my neck and the backdrop chatter of other customers gets louder. “Like what?”
He casts a sideways glance at me. “Like you want me to spread you out on the table and use this mouth elsewhere.”
My mouth falls open and I’m sure my face is on fire. “Oh. My. God. You can’t just say stuff like that to me, Parker!”
“Was I off base?”
I scoff and scoot my chair back. “I wasn’t looking at you.” Lies. “I was staring at a vague spot and you just happened to be there. In the way.”
“Uh-huh.”
