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“Why are you sabotaging this?”
He turns to me. “I’m not.”
“You clearly are. You’re never this clumsy.”
“I’m just lightening the mood.”
“I’m baking, so the mood is light. You’re the one making things weird.”
He sighs, moving back to the mixing machine. “I’m just in my head about tonight. That’s all.”
I grab his hand before he can touch the power settings on the mixer. His fingers fold around mine, and for a moment, my brain malfunctions. The moment lingers, and I can’t seem to pull away.
There’s a slight tremble in his hand, and I jolt back into my thoughts.
I drop his hand. “Maybe you can prep the cherries instead of mixing?”
Parker opens the jar with a pop as I pull a knife from a nearby drawer. I hold the knife with the blade facing downward and lift it in his direction. He doesn’t lift his right hand for the knife, instead twisting and grabbing the knife from another angle with his left.
“Arghh,” he yelps, pulling his left hand away.
“What just happened?” I ask, dropping the knife onto the cutting board.
Parker clamps his right hand over the tips of his fingers. “I touched the blade.”
Warning signals blare inside my head as I witness a red streak seeping between his fingers.
“What?” I yelp. “How did that happen?”
“I’m left handed, but you held it towards my right.”
“Doesn’t mean you needed to grab the blade.”
“I didn’t know you held it at such a weird angle.”
“It’s a safe angle,” I argue. “Oh my gosh, let me see.”
“I don’t want to take the pressure off.”
I wince. “Was it one finger, or...” I swallow hard. “Or, all of them?”
Parker’s face falls. “I think you sliced through bone.”
I jerk backwards. “What?”
Parker’s grin gives him a way. “Relax. It just grazed my index finger.”
I grab the edge of the counter, steadying my breath. “Huh?”
“It stings, and is definitely bleeding, but I’ve done way worse when I’ve fallen off my skateboard.”
I blink at him. “So, you’re fine?”
He laughs. “I’m fine.”
I whack his arm. “Oh my gosh, you scared me.”
“It was too easy.”
