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I purse my lips, shaking my head. “I don’t want to kiss you anymore.”
Parker rolls his eyes and puts his foot on the gas, pulling the car off the curb.
“Parker?”
His jaw flexes, ignoring me.
I lean forward. “Parker.”
His eyebrows raise with an air of annoyance. “I don’t think kissing should be off the table.”
“I don’t want to do it anymore.”
“We’d both prefer to be kissing other people, but I see how it gets under their skin when we do it. It works.”
“I hate manipulating him.”
“Don’t think of it like that. Just think of it as using me.” He shrugs. “I’m fine with that.”
I narrow my gaze. “How can you be fine with being used?”
“Because I’m getting what I want.”
“Are you really aching that badly to be Yvie’s plaything?”
His hands squeeze around the steering wheel. “Yes. Stop judging me.”
I sit back. “That’s not what I was doing.”
His arms lock and his shoulders tighten.
“Are you okay?”
He flicks on the indicator, and pulls the car curbside.
I hold onto the edge of my seat, startled. “What are you doing?”
Parker keeps a hold of the steering wheel, exhaling slowly.
“Parker?”
His eyes close as his chest rises and falls.
My teeth clench as I watch him shrink inward. Is he having an anxiety attack?
I unbuckle my seatbelt and sit forward. Gingerly, I raise my hand to touch his shoulder, but I second guess myself. I pull back, worried he’ll freak out if I touch him.
He shudders, releasing the steering wheel and opening his eyes.
“I’m okay, I just got a head rush.”
My palms are slick with sweat. “Can I do anything?”
Parker rubs his eyes and grunts. “Can we stop arguing?”
“I was just trying to make sure we’re on the same page.”
“We are,” he says. “We both want to be with other people.”
