"Then... yesterday morning? Maybe?" He looked exhausted with dark circles under his eyes and his hair was still damp from the shower with the streaks of studio makeup having been washed away
"Soup and toast?" I pulled open the pantry. "Nothing fancy, but it's food."
"Sounds good"
We fell into an easy rhythm with me heating up cans of chicken noodle soup while Parker made toast. The kitchen was small enough that we had to move around each other, and every time he got close and brushed against one another, my wolf whined, saying I should mark our mate. Gods no. We were nothing to one another other than colleagues and that relationship was strained after my behavior. The citrus-sweet scent was stronger now, mixing with my own scent from the borrowed clothes.
"Your house is nice," Parker said, breaking the comfortable silence. "How long have you lived here?"
"About five years. I bought it when I took the job at the station." I stirred the soup. "It needed work, but it's quiet and private."
"I can see that." His forearms flexed as he buttered the toast. "My apartment is the opposite. It has thin walls and noisy neighbors. But it was available immediately when I moved here, so I took it."
There it was again, the hint that the quick move had been necessary rather than convenient.
"You said earlier you left your last city for a fresh start." I poured soup into bowls. "Were you unhappy at work?"
"Bad relationship." He set the toast on plates. "I found out my partner was cheating and had been for months. Everyone knew except me."
My wolf growled at the thought of someone hurting Parker. He wanted to claw the guy. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. Callan was an asshole, and I'm better off without him." But there was a trace of pain in his voice. "I needed to getout, you know and start over somewhere no one knew about the failed relationship or the wedding that didn't happen."
We sat at the small kitchen table, and for a while, we just ate. The soup was nothing special, but after nearly two days of terrible coffee and things masquerading as food, it tasted like the best meal I'd ever had.
"This was a good idea," Parker said. "The food, I mean. And the hot chocolate for after."
"Basic host duties."
"You didn't have to offer me a place to stay."
"Yes, I did." The words came out before I could stop them.
He looked at me with a question in his eyes, but I focused on my soup. I wasn't ready to explain why the thought of Parker staying with Mike or anyone else had made my wolf agitated.
We finished eating in silence, cleaned up together, and I made the hot chocolate. Real hot chocolate, with cocoa powder and sugar and milk heated on the stove. Parker watched me work, and I tried not to think about how right this was. The two of us in my kitchen eating and chatting.
"Here." I handed him a mug. "Careful, it's hot."
"Thanks." He wrapped both hands around it. "I should probably try to get some sleep. We have to be back at the station in a few hours."
"Yeah. Me too."
But neither of us moved. We stood there in my small kitchen, drinking hot chocolate, and I wanted to explain why I'd reacted the way I had and how seeing him fall into that water had wrecked me.
"Dawson."
"Parker."
He smiled. "You first."
But the words stuck in my throat. "Just... I really am sorry. For earlier."
"I know." He set down his empty mug and turned to face me.
We were standing close enough that I could see the exhaustion written on his face. His body swayed, I reached out to steady him. My hands landed on his hips, and we both froze.
"Sorry." But I didn't let go.
