Hayes stood up, his eyes intense and narrowed. He bit his lip and cocked his head. “Come again?”
“I was scared. I was going to shoot. But then … I threw my gun at the guy.”
“You threw it?” Parker seemed to savor the words. “Where?”
I gestured toward the bedroom. “There.”
I dropped my head in my hands again and waited for Parker’s lecture on gun safety, but it didn’t come. I looked up, and Parker was doubled over, his hands on his bent knees. He was wheezing, and the redness from his face was seeping all the way to his scalp.
“You threw your gun at him?” He was blinking furiously now, using his palms to wipe his eyes. “You threw it at him?” he repeated.
I felt the anger roil in my chest, and my hands went into fists so tightly that I could feel my fingernails digging half moons into my palms. “I panicked!”
“Obviously!” Parker snorted. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, holding up his hands and sniffling. “This really isn’t funny. This is serious. There was someone in your apartment and your gun could have gone off. This”—he stifled a girlish giggle—“is no laughing matter.”
I stamped my foot. “If I had it to do over again I’d shoot you!” I said, feeling indignant and embarrassed.
“Well,” Parker started, growing more serious, “being willing to actually shoot the gun is a step up from throwing it.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I hate you.”
Hayes disappeared into my bedroom and returned with the gun. He frowned. “It’s freezing.” I kept my mouth shut while he unloaded the magazine, handing me the bullets. “Next time you’re in a throwing mood, try tossing just the bullets. They’re cheaper.”
I slipped the bullets into my robe pocket, and he handed me the gun. I snatched it from him and threw it into the freezer, slamming the door.
Parker was incredulous. “Seriously?”
“Oh.” I dug into my pocket and emptied the handful of bullets into a box of Skinny Cow Mint Dippers.
Parker pointed at the freezer. “You know, you shouldn’t—” He sucked in a sigh and shrugged, gathering his jacket. “Never mind. You going to be okay?”
I swallowed thickly, looking over my shoulder at my bedroom. “I’m pretty freaked out,” I admitted.
Parker leaned against the doorjamb. “Can I take you somewhere? Friend? Boyfriend?” He grinned. “Steve’s place?”
I shook my head. “No.”
Parker’s left cheek pushed up into one of his trademark half smiles. “Oh, I get it. Fine.” He stepped back into my apartment, pushing the door shut behind him. “I’ll stay.” He slinked out of his jacket and tossed it onto a chair. “You know, you could have just asked.”
“What?”
“You didn’t have to concoct the story. But the gun throwing”—he wagged a finger—“good effect.” He disappeared into my bedroom. “Coming?”
I rammed my fists against my hips and stomped after him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Parker’s eyebrows shot up in innocent arcs. He jerked a thumb over his finger toward the bed—my bed—and yawned. “We’ve got a big day tomorrow … er”—he glanced at his watch—“today.” He looked back at my bed. “Looks comfy,” he said with a big, goofy-guy grin.
“It is. For me.”
Then Parker Hayes dropped his pants.
I sucked in a shocked breath and clamped my hands over my eyes, making sure to spread my fingers just wide enough to peek at Parker’s tight quad muscles flexing underneath his SpongeBob SquarePants boxer shorts.
He peeled off his socks and snuggled into my bed, a big, satisfied grin on his face. “Mm, comfy.”
I gaped at him. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Parker pursed his lips and then sat up. “Right.” He whipped his T-shirt over his head and dropped it onto my floor. “It’s going to be hot tonight.”
I stepped onto the bed and planted my heel firmly against Parker’s butt cheek—his very, very firm butt cheek—and started to push.
“Get. Out. Of. My. Bed!”
Parker opened one eye. “Shh, Lawson, I’m trying to sleep. And can you get the light, please?”
I flopped down beside him. “Parker, you are not sleeping here.”
Parker rolled over, looking deliciously comfortable framed by my fluffy down comforter, his head cradled on my baby-blue pillow. “Didn’t you want me to be here for your protection?” he asked.
I blew out a resigned sigh, eyeing the silky skin on Parker’s naked shoulder, ripe for nuzzling. But who’s going to protect you from me?
I pulled an extra pillow and a blanket from the foot of the bed, then gestured toward the open bedroom door. “I think it’d be better if you protected me from out there.”
Parker kicked off my blankets and stood up, brushing past me, grabbing the blanket and pillow as he went.