Page 106 of Twisted Needs

His hand slides up my back slowly. Thoughtlessly. “I’m so tired, Anders.”

I study his face for a second. The lines around his eyes. The exhaustion that never fully leaves him anymore. “You’d hate being retired,” I tease softly. “You can’t sit still for more than a minute.”

More than anything, retirement means Parker finally talking about a future that exists somewhere beyond hockey arenas and road trips and temporary things.

His thumb brushes the corner of my mouth. “I want to travel,” he says suddenly.

“What?”

“When the season’s over.” His gaze flickers between my eyes like he’s testing the idea out in real time. “Europe. Somewhere warm first. Then somewhere cold. I know how much you like your penguins.”

One time he walked in on me and Luca in the middle of watching a five-hour documentary about stupid fucking penguins after I had seen one at the zoo. I was probably seven or eight.

At the time, I didn’t think anything of it. But one day, the memory suddenly hit me. The memory before the good one.

Apparently, Luca—who needed to do something important for work—called Parker and asked him to take over because I didn’t want to be alone. I had a nightmare the night before and clung to my older brother like a sticky leaf for the rest of the night.

Of course it was Parker.

I blink at him. “You mean…” I smile before I can stop it. “Me too?”

Parker gives me a look. “Obviously you too.” Heat crawls into my face. “We could do Madrid,” he continues quietly. “Or Reykjavik. Fortaleza. You’d like Tokyo, I think. They have good food.”

I laugh softly. “You’re, like, serious? You would take me somewhere?”

“If you want.” There’s something almost tentative about the way he says it. Like he’s waiting for me to tell him he’s insane for imagining a future out loud.

Instead, I crawl fully into his lap. “Of course I do.”

“Yeah?” That catches him off guard enough to make him grin. “That easy? Not gonna fight me on it?” His warm hands close around my waist. The look on his face shifts softer the longer he stares at me. Dangerously soft.

“This is real,” I whisper before I can stop myself. The words hang there between us.

Parker’s expression changes immediately. I don’t know how to explain it. Something in him loosens. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “It really is.”

I run my fingers through his hair again, slower this time. I can’t stop touching him. Every part of me still feels shocked he’s letting me. “You’re so beautiful, Pet’ka,” I murmur. “I swear, every time I look at you, it’s, like this visceral reaction I get.”

He cups my cheek. “Come here,” he whispers, puckering his lips.

My lips meet his. Parker tilts his head slightly and deepens the kiss, exhaling like it’s a relief to be kissing me again. It’s slow and steady, the kind of kiss you sink into without thinking. His mouth tastes like coffee and toothpaste, which somehow feels freakishly domestic.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs back softly, his mouth lingering against mine all warm and unhurried. “You’re so fucking perfect, Anders.” He pulls back a little, his mouth curling into a small grin. I have to stop myself from immediately leaning back in and kissing him again—for the sole purpose of kissing him because I can.

“You’re different than I thought you’d be,” I admit.

“Yeah?” One eyebrow lifts. “Is that a good or bad thing?”

“Good.” I pout a little. “Just…different.”

“Different,” he repeats. His nose brushes mine. “You thought you had me all figured out?”

“I thought you’d be meaner.”

That actually makes him laugh. “Baby,” he murmurs, “I am mean.”

“Mhm. Sureee.”

“I can literally bench press you.”