Visions of her as she lay next to him last night danced in front of his eyes. Shaking his head, he tried to focus on something else. His mind flat refused to think of anything else but last night.
What would have happened if he had simply run his hand up her body? Would she have done that sexy gasp that had escaped her lips when he pinned her against the wall in her apartment? Would her skin be as soft to his touch as he imagined it would be?
With a groan, Parker wrapped his hand around his aching cock. The vision of her soft pouty lips wrapped around it as she looked up at him from her knees had him pumping into his hand. He imagined what it would have felt like to fuck her pressed against that wall.
His balls drew up tight against him as his hand picked up speed. His mind flashed to a picture of her spread out under him in his bed with a sated look. Her satisfied smile when she looked into his eyes sent him over the edge.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbled to himself. He kicked his pants the rest of the way off his legs. Now he was going to be reduced to stroking off to what could only ever be a fantasy. Though, to be honest, he had been doing that since he met her. What else could he do? He couldn’t sleep with her and he sure as hell couldn’t stay away from her.
He needed someone to talk to about this. Dean, one of his closest friends, had run off for the summer so he was out. Although, what would Dean know about avoiding this situation? Sam simply had to snap her fingers and Dean would follow her anywhere.
Max was a viable option, but Parker knew he would just give him shit like every other time he came into the bar. Though he enjoyed sparring with the cop, he needed someone with more experience in these situations. He needed someone that understood where he was coming from.
Parker decided his dad would have to be the next logical person to talk to even though his dad didn’t actually speak. He had always been a pretty good listener though, so maybe Parker could just talk it out until he came up with a plan.
Throwing on a pair of clean jeans, he rummaged through the dresser until he found a T-shirt. He gathered up clothes from his brothers’ hamper as well as his and threw in a load of laundry before heading out the door. He was never really “off” on a day off. There was always something that had to be done.
Parker’s dad was living in a rehab facility in the city. It was a nice place that took all of Parker’s extra money to afford. Finn Donnelly had come a long way since the stroke two years ago had left him partially paralyzed and had taken away his ability to speak.
Though he still relied on a wheelchair most of the time, he was slowly transitioning to a walker. It helped that all Donnelly men were hardheaded. The nurses assured Parker often that his dad was one of the toughest, most determined patients they had ever had.
“Hey, Pop.” Parker stuck his head inside his dad’s room. He smiled when the man gave him a lopsided grin and waved him inside. “What are you up to today?” he asked, settling into the chair opposite his dad’s in the small room.
“They had track and art,” he answered when his dad held up two fingers in question, wondering where the twins were. “I thought I would hang out for a while if that’s cool.” Parker received a pat on his leg in response.
“Mr. Donnelly,” one of the nurses said, walking into the room. “Oh, hello Parker. I was just coming to help your father to lunch. Will you be joining him?” she asked, turning to Parker with a brilliant smile.
He didn’t mind flirting with the nurses here. Much like at the bar, if it got him further along he was all for it. In this instance, if they paid a little extra attention to his dad, then that’s all the incentive he needed.
“I brought takeout. I hope that’s fine. We can eat it in the dining room.” He held up the bag he had brought it in.
He always tried to bring them something good to eat when he came. There were also some magazines, a couple of newspapers, and anything else he thought his dad might enjoy. During the school year, he often brought papers his brothers had gotten good grades on for him to see.
“That would be perfectly fine. Mr. Donnelly, would you like to show Parker how you have been walking to the dining room?” she asked, unfolding a walker in the corner.
“Really? Pop, that’s fantastic,” Parker said, standing. With help from the nurse, they slowly walked down the hall. They settled at a table and Parker pulled out the shepherd's pie he knew his dad loved.
“I’m going to have to run Liam and Ro by to see that. They’ll be stoked. You’ll be running up the stairs to the apartment in no time.” Handing his dad a spoon, Parker sat down to dig into his lunch.
Finn took a small pad of paper out of his pocket. He wrote something down, pushing it toward Parker. Reading it, he smiled at his dad.
“You think I’m acting happier?” Parker asked. “Maybe. According to everyone this morning, I’m a grouch.” His dad laughed, nodding his head. “You don’t have to agree,” Parker answered with a grin. His dad scribbled some more on the pad before scooting it back over.
“What’s happened? I can’t just be happy?” Parker asked, looking up. The man did his best to return a smirk. Looking at the ceiling, Parker blew out a breath.
“Can we talk about it back in your room?” His dad nodded his head and motioned to the bag next to Parker. “Yes, after your pudding. I swear you’re a tapioca addict. I don’t understand how you can eat something that looks like maggots floating in pus,” he mumbled, pulling the container of pudding out of the bag. His dad cocked his head at him with a scowl.
“Sorry,” he added, rolling his eyes.
Helping his dad settle back into his chair in his room after lunch, Parker returned to the chair across from him. Picking up one of the newspapers he began to read the sports page.
Finn tapped him on the knee. He was being motioned to start talking.
Refolding the paper slowly, he tried to gather his thoughts. Lately, it seemed like they were scattered everywhere.
“Let’s see, how do I explain Astrid?” He watched his dad scribble on his notepad before holding it up. “Yes, it’s about a girl. But not how you think.” Receiving a look of feigned disbelief, Parker continued. “Okay, it probably is what you think. But she is so out of my league I don’t know what to do.”
“Start at the beginning,” Finn wrote.
