from his pocket while waiting for me to join him. He slowly slips the piece of gum into his mouth as he scans me from head to toe. “You getting on, or what?” he asks with a laugh.
“Oh, yeah,” I reply, feeling embarrassed that I was caught staring at him in a daze. His little cinnamon-gum-mouth show was making me reminisce about our last kiss, which I find a very welcoming distraction from thinking about Unknown.
As I snuggle up to him on the bike, he digs through his jeans pockets. He murmurs, “Shit” when he doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for. He proceeds to pat down his leather jacket, but still comes away with nothing.
“Can’t find your keys?”
“No, I have those. I can’t find my cell phone,” he replies, peering back at me. “Damn, I bet I left it in my dorm. Mind if we swing by there to check?”
“I thought you said you didn’t get my call because you had no reception in the club.”
“Usually I don’t get great reception in there, but tonight I never checked my phone. Probably because I didn’t have it with me,” he explains, his gaze steady on mine. “Why do I get the feeling you don’t believe me?”
“I’m not saying I don’t. I just can’t help but think that this might be some elaborate attempt to get me back to your dorm.”
He releases a small laugh. “Would I really need to go to these great lengths just to get you in my dorm room again?” His beautiful grin is like Medusa’s stare, but instead of turning me into stone, I just melt into a puddle. “It’ll only take a second to get my phone, and then we’ll head to the bar. Promise.”
I nod before I begin to imagine the two of us rolling around on his twin mattress that’s only large enough for one. I try to snap out of it, but I become flustered again while picturing his mouth moving around my body, leaving little kisses all over.
“Hey, I forgot to tell you,” he says, thankfully distracting me from my thoughts. “I stopped by Mr. Whitman’s house today.”
“I’m sorry, but can we not talk about that? After what that sick asshole whispered in my ear about Mr. Whitman, I don’t want to think about it,” I reply.
“Wait, he told you he killed Mr. Whitman?”
“Yeah, but can we please drop it? Like I said, I’m not really in the mood to chat about that.”
“Sure thing.”
I feel the tears coming on, but I take in a deep breath, fighting hard not to cry. Parker brings my hand, which rests just above his stomach, up to his lips for a quick, comforting kiss. I let out a sniffle when the emotions become too much to bear, but I still manage to battle back the tears. He interlocks his smooth strong fingers within mine and I smile at how gentle he’s being right now.
As we pull into the parking lot just outside his dormitory, Parker finds a spot closest to the stairwell that leads up to his hallway. The senior housing actually resembles more of an apartment complex than an actual dorm.
“Okay, so don’t make this sound like more than it is, but do you want to come up?” he asks, shutting off the engine.
“Yeah, we’re only getting your phone, remember?”
He chuckles. “Exactly.”
“Besides, it’s kind of creepy out here, and I don’t really want to be left alone right now,” I joke, but my voice wavers.
Reaching his dorm room, Parker puts his key into the lock, turns it, and pushes the door open. He flips the light switch, illuminating the room. While still standing outside, I peer around the quaint space that seems perfect enough for one. I’m actually surprised when it doesn’t smell like a gym locker, but instead has a fresh scent. The last time I was in here, I didn’t pay much attention to what it looked like or how it smelled, since I was suffering from one hell of a “hangover.”
“Uh, you can come in, you know?” he calls out to me from the living room area.
“I know, but I’m fine waiting here,” I answer as my eyes pan over to his twin bed in the corner. The bed is made, but all I can think about is messing it up.
After hearing my response, Parker looks over at me, stalling the hunt for his phone. “Come on, don’t be silly. It’s cold outside.”
He smiles when I step into the room