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Magnolia clears her throat. “It was actually a September,” she tells her mother curtly. “After a very, very wet August.”
I flick her in the arm and she peers up at me with shit-stirring eyes and holy fuck I love her.
Fight the urge not to take her face in my hands and kiss her on the spot.
Remind myself that we need to take it slow, reel in the slack so we don’t choke ourselves on it again.
My face softens more than I want it to, but I lean down and whisper to her, “Your mum likes him—”
Parks’ face flickers a frown.
“How do you know?” she says right into my ear.
I give her a little shrug. “I can just tell.” But that’s a lie. I can tell for a reason.
Parks’ cheeks go pink in a specific spot when I do ‘certain things’ to her, say things that make her heart go funny, touch her face, press my mouth against her ear — she’s done it forever. Arrie does it too.
Used to see it on her face when Harley actually gave her the time of day. I don’t think he ever really loved her, but I could always tell she loved him. Loves, probably, if we’re being honest.
After dinner, I drive the girls home.
Bridget rolls her eyes at the two of us as we stall downstairs like the twatty idiots we are.
Shove my hands in the pockets of my jacket as I stand out front of her apartment, staring over at her, trying my best not to kiss her. She folds her arms over her chest. She’s cold — didn’t bring a jacket so I’d have to hold her.
Vintage Parks.
I pull her over towards me by the waist and her eyes go heavy in a way I know. I rub my hands up and down her arms, warming her up.
“I’ve always quite liked you in a raglan,” she tells me, tugging on the hem of my T-shirt.
“Yeah?”
“Yes.” She nods and then her eyes pinch playfully. “I love being friends, by the way.” She nods. “Love it.”
I smirk down at her. “Same.”
“Good.” She nods once and I keep rubbing her arms.
“Great, yeah—” I nod back. “It’s easy. I never think about you without your clothes on… ever.”
She presses her lips together, trying not to smile.
“Are you going to come up?” she asks with wide eyes.
I do a shit job of not smiling at her when she says that, shake my head, laughing with my mouth closed. “…Mmm, nope.”
She frowns. “Why?”
I give her a look. “Because if I come up you’ll make me stay.”
“Make you stay?” She looks at me with tall eyebrows. “I’m a tiny ineffectual woman.”
I tilt my head. Give her a look.
“You… are the least ineffectual thing in my life.”
Cheeks do the pink thing. That butters her up a bit, just for a second though. Then it’s back to pouting.
