Page 44 of Twisted Needs

Parker rolls his eyes. “That’s not why I kidnapped you.”

“Okay, then why?”

Something shifts after those words slip past my lips.

Maybe it’s just the way the conversation stalls out. Maybe it’s the fact that Parker doesn’t immediately answer. The house suddenly feels too quiet. Parker sets his water down on the island. His fingers tap once against the glass before he hooks his foot around the leg of my barstool and pulls me closer. The movement catches me off guard, causing my pulse to spike. “Pet’ka⁠—”

“I just think,” Parker murmurs, “I’m not the biggest fan of that Seth guy.”

I huff out a laugh. “Why not?”

“I just don’t like him.”

Something warm rushes through me. “That’s not a valid reason, though.”

Parker leans back against the counter and folds his arms across his chest. “I don’t really need a reason, Anders.”

I open my mouth to argue, but the look he gives me makes the words die in my throat.

Parker holds my gaze for a second too long, then his eyes flick down to my mouth. Boldly. My breathing immediately catches. “You know what bothers me?” he asks.

“What?”

“I think you just trust people a little too easily.”

I roll my eyes. “Jesus, Pet’ka⁠—”

“No, I’m serious.”

“Yeah, so am I.”

He lets out a quiet sigh and drags a hand across his beard. “So you met him at a party and now you’re best friends all of a sudden?”

“What?” I scoff. “There’s nothing wrong with meeting someone my own age at a party⁠—”

“So you like him because he’s your age⁠—”

“Oh my God.” I cut him off before he can finish, laughing thinly.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Parker’s jaw tightens.

“As opposed to what?” I ask. “What’s wrong with being interested in someone my own age?”

The second the words leave my mouth, I know they landed exactly where I intended them to. Parker’s expression changes. Not much, but just enough that it means something. His eyes darken slightly and his shoulders go rigid.

For a second, neither of us says anything.

“He isn’t good for you,” Parker says quietly. The words sound measured, like he’s forcing himself to stay calm.

I shake my head. “I think I’ve earned the right to decide that for myself.”

Parker’s fingers curl against his bicep.

“And as my friend,” I continue, narrowing my eyes, “I appreciate your concern, but you don’t get to do that.”

His gaze immediately snaps back to mine. Slowly, Parker pushes himself off the counter.

My stomach drops.