Page 9 of Twisted Needs

“Problem solved, then?” I laugh.

“Problem solved,” he mutters sarcastically. “You have saved the day, Petchka. My hero.”

I exhale softly and shake my head at him, patting him on the shoulder and pulling him in for a hug. Which I’ve done thousands of times.

So why does he immediately tense up in my arms? Why does the room feel super quiet all of a sudden?

My body is hyper-aware of the way his body feels pressed against mine. He’s taller…stronger. All filled out now. Still just as warm. At some point, he stopped looking like Luca’s kid brother, and I’m trying very hard not to think about when that happened.

I hate the way I get chills the moment he hugs me back and sighs like he’s needed this hug all day. I hate the way my hand automatically finds its way to the base of his head when he rests his cheek against my hard chest.

And I fucking hate the way that my body hums most of all. It’s like something wrong snaps into place. It fits, but it doesn’t feel quite right.

I have to make sure he’s cared for. He depends on me. That’s all this is.

Anders hugs me even tighter after a moment, like it took him a minute to work up the courage.

“What’s wrong?” I ask him carefully.

“Honestly…” he sighs. “You’re the only person who makes me feel like this,” he whispers to me.

“Like what?” I whisper back against my better judgement.

“You just make all of the annoying shit in my head stop rambling. Honestly, you’re the only person who does.”

I shouldn’t be that person for him. Not when Luca kills himself every day over the fact that Anders would rather talk to anyone else before he ever opened up to him. It’s different from my team needing me. With hockey, being a captain means working together to act as one. With Anders, it feels terrifyingly easy to forget where the line is supposed to be. Especially when my mind is trying to convince itself he’s deliberately trying to shift it over.

He deeply inhales, holding me just a little tighter. “Oh, Parker,” he whispers to himself.

“Hey,” I murmur softly, trying to hide the cold dread in my voice.

He doesn’t immediately let go.

Something panicked lurches through me. “Listen,” I tell him while trying to sound as comforting as possible. “I love that I can be that person for you.”

“You are,” he nods, finally loosening his hold on me.

Maybe it’s all in my head.

Anders gives me a devastatingly tender look with too much left unsaid. Because he knows he can’t say what I think he wants to say.

“You go ahead and head upstairs to bed,” I tell him, trying to sound as normal and composed as possible. “I just have a few things I need to check on.”

“Okay,” he tells me softly. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

I don’t seem to be able to breathe properly until I hear the guest bedroom door click shut upstairs.

This…is the furthest that will ever go. It’s dangerous for so many reasons, but the reason that scares me the most is how good it felt to be needed.

Needed by him.

CHAPTER 3

SHITTY SINGER

ANDERS