Page 78 of The Fire

“I made it so youcould. So you could leave without feeling guilty, if you wanted to. And you did.”

“You manipulated me, Jamie.”

“It wasn’t like that,” I insisted. “I did the right thing. Look at all you’ve accomplished! Look at all you have.”

Parker scrubbed both hands over his face. “Yeah, Jamie. Look at all I have. A burned-out bar. A couple hundred dollars in my checking account. And a friend… with benefits.”

“But that’s temporary,” I argued, shifting onto my knees so I could run a hand over his head. “All of it. You’re gonna get your claim paid, Parks. You’ll be back on your feet and out of O’Leary in no time.”

“Right.” Parker pulled away from my hand. “You know why I was with Gideon today? Because I was asking him about the investigation.”

“Yeah. I, ah… figured.” I sat back on my heels. “Eventually.”

“Yeah, well. If your plan was to have our…friendship with benefitsfly under the radar until I’m gone, you fucked yourself with that little display in the bakery. Were you really jealous?”

“Doesn’t matter.” I shrugged. “It was stupid, and I’m sorry if it made things awkward for you.”

Parker blew out a breath. “You are impossible, you know that?”

“What did Gideon say?”

“He told me to hang in there. Told me to be patient.”

I snorted. “You hate being patient.”

“Yeah,” Parker said bitterly. “You have no idea. Must be my competitive spirit, right?”

I bit back a retort. “Parks. I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Oh, well then! I should just be quiet, shouldn’t I? Because things always have to be your way, no matter what I want?”

“I really am sorry for being an asshole this afternoon. But I’m not going to apologize for caring about you eleven years ago, Parks. I’m not going to apologize for putting your needs first.”

“My needs.” Parker snorted. “You’re so fucking full of yourself, Jameson.”

“Icare about you,” I told him. “I do. More than anyone in the whole damn world.” I laid a hand on his cheek, feeling the rasp of his stubble. He flinched away from my touch, just a little, and it fucking killed me. “I want you to be happy,” I whispered, rubbing my thumb over his mouth.

I could feel Parker’s tension, the push-pull inside him, and I felt when he gave in. He let me turn his face toward mine, and his eyes, when he looked up at me, were sad.

Longing.

Parker Hoffstraeder knew me better than anyone on the planet. There was not a soul in the world who could read my thoughts, and understand my humor, and comfort me with a simple touch. But looking at him now, it occurred to me that for all the things we knew about each other, for all that we instinctively understood and always had, the most important things were still too fucking hard to discuss.

So maybe I needed to show Parker without words.

“Let me make you happy, Parks. Let me.” For as long as we have left.

He closed his eyes for a second, breathing in and out, and finally nodded once.

I pulled my shirt off and threw it in the corner, then grabbed the hem of Parker’s sweatshirt and dragged it up over his head. He lifted his arms without hesitation, helping me strip him so his entire torso was bare and nearly glowing in the darkness. I trailed my fingers lightly over his bare shoulders and down his arms, and he shivered in response. “Tell me what you want.”

Parker laid himself down on the drop-cloth with his hands above his head, a picture of total supplication. “Have me,” he said simply. “Any way you like.”

I frowned. This wasn’t what I wanted at all—Parkerpassive, Parkerpatient.

“I thought I was gonna makeyouhappy. Did you forget?”

Parker’s lips turned up at one side in a small, sad smile. “Jamie. You being happy has always made me happy. Didn’t you know?”