Page 105 of The Publicity Stunt

“You’re very welcome,” Parker replies.

“Excuse me?” I elbow him in the arm. “Give me some credit too. I wore a hideous dress for you.”

He loops an arm around my shoulder and kisses the side of my head. It seems like such a natural thing to do, for him to kiss me and for me to like it. “Thank you for not monopolizing the world’s beauty for one night,” he says.

It’s a five-minute walk to the hotel, but given the height of my heels, it’s going to be no less than twenty. I hook my arm around the back of his jacket, bending down to press my fingers around my ankle.

“Do you want to stop for a bit?” Parker asks. “Or I can carry you.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” I stand. “I’ve endured enough of your bullying for the day.”

“Bullying?” He laughs. “All I’ve done is help you live your best life.”

I button up my coat and wince again, looking down at my feet, rotating one ankle to relieve some of the pressure.

“April, let me give you a piggyback ride. You’re quite tiny.”

Instantly I gasp. Not cool. “I get to say that, not you.”

“But your feet hurt—”

A distant noise interrupts him. Both of us look up. With a low rumble, then a quiet tap-tap-tapping, it starts to rain.

It doesn’t take us more than five seconds to burst out laughing. “Did you plan this, Hayden Parker?” My voice comes out a little singsongy.

The water drips down his hair, over his eyes. “Plan the rain? Nah, that’s not one of my superpowers.” He tugs on my fingers, urging me to get back inside the club.

I don’t budge.

“You hate the rain,” he says.

I shrug. “You hated dancing. People change,” I say and step out further onto the sidewalk.

He follows me, running his free hand through his disheveled hair. “Well, we won’t be doing much hating or living if we catch pneumonia.” That’s what he says, but he puts his hand in mine regardless, stepping out onto the sidewalk with me.

I scrunch my nose up with a smile and he lifts his hand to wipe the wet strands of hair clinging to my face. I lean into it and smile wider. Parker smiles back. He always does.

“This is so stupid.” A low laugh sneaks out of him.

I bring my hand up and wrap it around his wrist. The coolness of the rain is replaced with white-hot electricity shooting right through his skin and into my veins.

“Do you remember our first kiss?” I ask. The rain starts to fall harder. The few people that were out on the sidewalk with us are nowhere to be found. It’s just us now.

Just us and some rain.

“Which one?” he answers. “We’ve had quite a few of those.”

I suppose he’s right. “The one in the rain. When we were wearing equally ridiculous outfits.”

Parker gapes. “You take that back right now, April Moore.” I laugh and the sound makes the corner of his mouth hitch up. Like he’s excited over making it happen. “Of course, I remember our first kiss. I remember them all.”

“They were nice,” I say, unsure where I’m planning to go with this. For the next few seconds, we don’t say anything. The rain drums against the sidewalk. “How did you do it, Parker?”

His smile morphs into a frown. “Do what? Kiss you?”

“Get past everything.”

The way the expression on his face hardens, I immediately know I’ve said all the wrong words. The rain starts to pour more heavily. His gaze drops to my mouth, but he doesn’t say anything else. It’s a sensitive subject and I don’t even know why I chose this perfect evening to bring it up.