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Maybe it was Ed.
Then again. I don’t think Ed would sound like a woman confused by Parker’s mixed signals.
Sure, a mountain bike ride isn’t exactly a romantic invitation. But it’s an invitation to spend time together—just us. And given the past I have with Parker, that feels like a big deal to me. I’m sure I’m reading into the invitation too much, but I can’t help myself.
The thing is, ever since Parker walked into the Manning’s log cabin and caught me in my nightgown, I’ve felt confused.
And every time he’s looked at me for the past twenty-four hours, I’ve felt just like I used to when we were younger.
Special.
Really, really, amazingly special.
Like a perfectly formed snowflake; a little miracle that swirled down from the sky.
And I don’t only feel special and unique.
I feelwanted. Desired.
It’s a dangerously familiar feeling. Back when I was in high school I used to feel the same way.
We secretly wanted each other for so long. I remember how at night sometimes, after a day at the Mannings I’d look at the glow-in-the-dark stars glued to my bedroom ceiling and savor the long, meaning-laced looks me and Parker shared.
And then when he finally kissed me on that rec room couch, it was so validating. Like I really was the unique snowflake that he couldn’t live without. He wantedme, and only me.
We let ourselves tumble headfirst into territory we had no business being in. We were just kids, basically. But I remember one night, sitting out by his pool, when he had his arms wrapped around me and he whispered in my ear,‘Gem, I think I love you.’
And I was so stupid.
I turned and whispered it right back.
Then we kissed, and I thought I’d get to spend countless more nights just like that one. Whispering ‘I love you’ to Parker Manning while fitted perfectly in his strong arms. Laughing and looking at moonlight reflected on the pool’s surface. Swimming through cool, silky dark water straight into his waiting arms, while everyone else in the neighborhood was fast asleep. It all felt so magical, and I assumed the magic would last.
And now it’s like we’re right back to it—trading secret signals that carry meaning.
But what if I’m the only one of us putting out and receiving signals?
What if it’s all in my head?
What if he looks at me like I’m some kind of wonderful, unique, beautiful specimen because he’s weird, wildParker, and he’s always happy and always amazed at life?
For all I know he gazes at parking meters and footballs in the exact same way. He always seems to be content with whatever life dishes up, so it’s possible.
Beside me, Overalls chatters on about Veronica. How she’s a single mom, working her “tush off” at a local inn, cleaning rooms.
I’m barely listening, though, because that little voice in my head is at it again.He basically asked you out on a date this morning. Driving in his truck? Hiking…? Mountain biking… ?
He even mentioned a private little lookout.
That’s just like something he’d come up with when we were young. Parker was always finding secret places where we could spend a few hours, just us.
Also, his voice got so low and husky when he talked about that lookout. Like he remembering times in the past, how we used to kiss for hours…
Shoot. Parker told me not to overthink his invitation.
But Ididoverthink it.
I thought about being out on a mountain bike, with Parker helping me adjust the seat and then reaching around me to give me pointers on how to shift gears. I thought about how his arm would brush against mine when he gave the demonstration, and I wouldn’t mind one bit.
