“I’ve never been accused of being nice,” she said, winking at him.
They were interrupted by the server delivering their food before he could say anything else. Astrid couldn’t remember when she had had so much fun. Well, not since breakfast this morning anyway. Fuck being friend-zoned. She was going to push this as far as she could.
“I know how to get the rest of the way,” he mumbled, digging into his dinner.
“Know how to get the rest of the way where?” She hid her grin with a spoonful of pho.
“Around the bases. I know how to cover all the bases,” he said with a huff. She just bet he did. She just bet the slide home was pure perfection. “Just so you know.”
“Why do I need to know if we’re just friends?” Astrid asked. If Parker was going to draw a line, she needed him to draw it with a big old fat Sharpie. No one liked to be strung along. He didn’t get to hold her hand, sleep next to her and talk about sex then put up a roadblock.
“I’m not going to be a friend with benefits,” she said. “You have plenty of willing barflies to choose from if that’s what you’re looking for.” She did have standards after all. They were slipping, but they were still there.
“If that’s what I wanted, you would have been under me months ago,” he growled. “That’s not what I meant. Can we please just finish eating and not do this right now?”
Fine, she could wait until later when they weren’t in public. But then they were going to do this. They were going to do this hard. Now, her thoughts were even a sexual innuendo.
“I didn’t start it,” she pointed out. “You’re the one that asked if I’d have an allergic reaction blowing you. After telling me we’re just friends by the way.” His eyes narrowed on her. “Fine, but we’re not finished.”
“I sincerely hope not,” he answered. It was very hard to stay indignant with someone who was so damn sexy. If he didn’t stop scowling at his plate of food, Astrid might just crawl over the table and agree to those benefits anyway.
After dinner, they walked slowly back up the hill to her apartment. Parker remained quiet until they reached her apartment door.
“Want to watch some TV?” he asked.
“Why not,” she agreed. He must have flipped some switch again in that complicated brain of his.
She watched him make a circuit through the rooms like he was reconning a bunker. He pulled the sheet away they had used to cover the couch. Did he think someone was hiding under it? She laughed at the face he made. The upholstery was covered in any number of foreign stains.
“That’s fucking disgusting,” he said, putting the cover back in place.
“That’s the couch that finally undid Dean. He had a complete meltdown over it. Well, that and the screaming mice.”
“You have screaming mice?” he asked.
“Just in the winter. They gave us sticky traps to catch them.”
“Those are nasty. I spend the winter setting traps. I would rather get my fingers snapped repeatedly than listen to that. It does make good shit to use against Dean though.”
“Poor Dean. He’s seen a lot of stuff he can’t unsee,” she said with feigned sadness. It only lasted a second before she remembered why they were staring at the couch. “I have Netflix. Do you feel like a movie?”
“Sure. What do you want to watch?”
“Anything is fine,” Astrid answered, kicking off her shoes. She folded her legs underneath her and curled up on the couch. Picking up the remote, Parker began scrolling through the movies. “That’s supposed to be good,” she said when he stopped on a rom-com.
“Alright,” he said, staring at the description.
“You know it’s a chick flick, right?” she asked him with a smirk.
“If you say so. I never get to watch anything but action or slasher. This sounds like a nice change,” he answered.
With a shrug, she settled against the corner of the couch as he sat down next to her. He was being weirdly nongrowly. She studied him out of the corner of her eye but couldn’t figure out what was going on in his pretty little head this time. Probably still contemplating that blow job. Or was that just her?
They hadn’t made it very far in the movie when she felt him slide his hand into hers. He twined their fingers together.
“Shut up, friends hold hands,” he growled, not taking his eyes from the tiny TV screen. She was almost positive this could be labeled a date, but far be it from her to point that out.
“You know there’s a sequel,” she said when the movie was over.
