Page 97 of Twisted Needs

Me

i don’t believe you

Pet’ka

Come see for yourself

Me

we’re literally already outside the locker room

He emerges a moment later in all his sweaty glory with a lazy grin plastered to his face. “You look gorgeous,” he tells Aviva immediately. “The matching jacket’s a nice touch. I think there’s more of you guys up in the family room taking pictures.”

“I was just headed there,” she mutters, turning to give me one last look. “Give me ten.”

Parker leans against the wall and folds his arms across his chest, giving me an amused look, trying not to smile and actively failing.

A few years ago, Luca took a really bad spill. Broken ribs, nasty concussion…he missed the last few months of the season because it took him longer than expected to heal. Probably because he continued playing with broken ribs for a whole other game. He’s always been indestructible in my eyes. Seeing him so fragile unsettled me in ways I couldn't explain.

“Is this funny to you?”

He shakes his head. “I’m fine. I promise.”

“Then stop making that…face.”

“I’m just really happy to see you,” he shrugs. “Thanks for coming.”

I narrow my eyes at him for a moment, fully taking it in. He hit his head and he’s so fucking stubborn that he’s refusing to get checked. If he has a concussion, then...fuck.

“I’m alright,” he tells me again, softening a little. "They checked me the moment I came back to the locker room."

"Who?"

Parker blinks. "The trainers."

“Well, did they do the protocol?"

"Anders—"

“Don’t lie to me.”

He shakes his head solemnly. “Never.”

I take a deep breath, nodding. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” He takes a step closer. “We’re okay?”

“We’re okay,” I murmur. “But you scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” His arm twitches, like he’s fighting the urge to reach out to me. I lock my gaze on him and stare deeply into his eyes. For a minute, the only thing I can focus on are his lips. His mouth is set in a small, sincere pout.

Maybe I haven't been as finished with him as I thought.

He went out of his way to get me to come to his game. Then he hit his head and the second I thought something might be wrong, I forgot I was supposed to be angry.

The sound of someone calling out for Parker tears me from my train of thought. Parker looks over his shoulder and scoffs. “Shit.”

“Go,” I tell him. “I’ll see you at home.”