Page 47 of The Fire

“Epic,” I repeated. “You trying to feed my ego?”

“Please.It’s plenty big enough.”

I snorted. “Anyway. I don’t think there was much about me your mom appreciated.”

Parker huffed and melted a pat of butter in the hot pan. “It wasn’t you personally. She just didn’t like that we were so serious. Or thatIwas serious, anyway. About you.‘There are a lot of fish in the sea,Parker! Why not date alotof boys?’”

“She wanted you to be a playboy,” I said, waggling my eyebrows.

“She wanted me to save my focus for other stuff.”

Other stuff that wasn’t me or in O’Leary. I was very, very aware of what his mother had wanted him to care about.

“She wanted you to have a good future,” I said instead. “She wanted you to realize there were other opportunities waiting for you. Ones that didn’t exist in O’Leary. Isn’t that what every parent wants for their kids?”

Parker glanced up from the pan where he’d been pouring pancake batter and frowned. “I guess.” He looked around the kitchen, at twenty-year-old decor and the family pictures that still lined the walls, and darted a glance at me.

He visibly hesitated, and I rolled my eyes. “You’re suddenly shy? I had your dick in my mouth last night, you know.”

His green eyes flew to mine and he turned beet red. “I recall.”

“So if you have a question, ask it.”

“Is that how it works? One blowjob, one question? This is the workaround for your stupid rule?”

“Try it and find out.” I gave him a lascivious grin and his blush deepened. It was really adorable. “You know, I don’t remember you being this blush-y.”

Parker blew out a breath. “I don’t remember you being this mouthy either. It’s almost like we bothchanged. Imagine that.”

I grinned. “If you’re telling me that being mouthy is a bad thing, I—”

“What happened to your mom?” Parker blurted. “That… that was my question.”

I felt my grin fall away. “She left.” I shoved the rest of the bacon I was holding in my mouth and licked my fingers, pointedly not looking at him. “Surely you’ve heard this, the O’Leary gossip mill being what it is.”

“I’ve heard some. I wanna hear it from you.”

I glanced at him warily. This tread perilously close to the things I didn’t want to think about, let alone discuss, but I’d started this, so… fine. I could talk about it. It was only a collection of facts, after all.

“Not sure there’s much to add beyond the basics. My dad self-destructed after Molly died.” I shrugged. “Too much demon liquor. You were here for that part. Well, the start of it, anyway.”

“And your mom wasn’t happy,” he prompted. “I remember that too. They fought constantly.”

“The strain of losing a child,” I intoned in the overly serious voice of the family therapist we’d been to see once or twice, back in the day, “takes a toll on a marriage.” I watched Parker flip the golden-brown pancakes expertly.

“And?”

“Andwhat?” I demanded. “You left. He got worse. Two unrelated events,” I added with a tight smile. “He didn’t miss you that much.”

But I had. Dear God, I had.

Parker made an impatient noise, and I rolled my eyes as I continued. “Pretty sure the story writes itself from this point, Parkie. My mom was fed up. Said she deserved to have a little happiness in her life, which she did. So she filed for divorce and moved to Portland, Maine, where one of her sorority sisters lived, to start fresh.”

“She just left you?” Parker sounded incredulous, and I didn’t get it.

“She’s an adult, Parker, and so was I. Being here in this house reminded her of everything she’d lost. Why would she stick around? Hey, I have bananas,” I offered, pointing to a bowl on the counter, “if you wanna put them in the next batch.”

Parker looked at me like I had three heads. “Bananas goonthe pancakes, Jameson. Notinthem.”