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“When you put it like that…” my voice trails off as I’m not sure how to respond. Of course he is right, but it does little to help my annoyance.
He grins. “Let’s go get some food. After, you are going to go home and talk to your dad. If you want me to be there, I will. But you have to tell him the truth, Henley. If you open up to him, I bet he will open up to you.”
I take a deep breath, slowly nodding. “Okay. I will.”
He backs away, giving me some space.
“But you realize he probably won’t even be at home,” I tell him. “My dad never is. He’s always working.”
“I’ll make sure he is there.” He opens the door wider for me. “Let’s go get food. I’m starving.”
I’m beginning to learn that wolf shifters like to eat. Come to think of it, my dad eats a lot too.
I get into the passenger seat and Parker shuts the door behind me, making his way around the vehicle. I kick off my shoes and pull my knees up to my chest, hugging my legs against me. My stomach feels queasy as I think about the conversation I’m going to have with my dad later.
I never wanted to tell my dad the truth about my ability. It’s been important to keep it a secret. When I was a kid, I was convinced that my dad would leave if he knew the truth about me. But maybe Parker is right. Maybe he should know. I just need to face my fear. Not everybody who knows the truth will leave me. Those nannies that I had growing up were human. My ability scared them. But my dad is a supernatural—like me. He will understand.
At least, I hope he will.
Parker gets in the passenger seat and tilts his head to the side as he studies me. “Are you okay?”
I nod.
“Did you make those socks?” He points at my neon pink socks.
I wiggle my toes. “Yeah. Oh, I finished your socks.” I reach into the seat behind me to grab my backpack. I pull his socks out of the zipper and hand them over.
Parker takes the socks from my hands, looking at them. “You’re kind of weird, but I kind of like it.” He holds up the socks studying them. “They’re awesome. I’ll wear them tomorrow.”
My cheeks grow warm. “You don’t have to. I just… like making socks. It won’t hurt my feelings if you hate them.”
“I can’t imagine how long it took you to make these.” He puts the socks into the cup holder and grabs ahold of my hand. “Nobody has ever made me anything like that before.”
I worry my bottom lip between my teeth, not knowing what to say. It’s probably the weirdest gift he’s ever gotten.
“How did you know red is my favorite color?” Parker puts the Jeep into reverse.
I laugh. “Are you kidding? Your Jeep is red. You always wear red sneakers. And even your bedroom is red. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”
“I suppose not,” he says, as he backs out of his spot.
I’m not sure what to say to him, so I keep my mouth shut as we make our way to grab food. I’ve never knit anything for somebody other than my dad, so it feels weird to give Parker socks. The more I think about it, the more awkward I feel.
Why did I make him socks, of all things? What if he thinks socks are lame? What if he thinksIam lame? Only grandmas knit socks.
Parker reaches his hand over the center console and grabs ahold of my hand. “I think this is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”
“The best gift you’ve ever received is socks?” I ask, turning to look at him.
“Hand knit socks,” he says. “You probably spent a lot of time making them. And they’re really cool. I love them.”
“It’s not weird?”
He grins. “I think it’s awesome. You took a piece of string and made something out of it. It’s definitely not weird.”
“It’s yarn, not string. It’s real wool, so it’ll keep your feet warm. In hindsight, you might not need wool socks since you don’t actually get cold.” I shrug, cutting off my rambling.
Parker doesn’t hate them. So that’s good. The last thing I would want is to scare him off.
