Playing Dirty

“I’m sure you will,” he said, beeping the car lock. “But just in case, I’ll make sure.”


My nerves were jangling as we went inside and waited for the elevator to take us up to my apartment on the third floor. At work, there was always something to talk about. Outside of work … all I could think about was how much we hadn’t discussed, like That Night (which was how I always thought of it inside my head).

“I didn’t realize you knew who my dad was,” I said.

“The firm does background checks on everyone,” he said with a shrug. “Since you were using your mother’s name, I assumed there was a reason and didn’t see the need to pry.”

The elevator dinged and we stepped inside. As usual, Parker looked impeccable even after a day of work. His tie wasn’t even loosened and the smooth wave of his hair fell over his brow in an almost seductive kind of way.

I realized I was staring and jerked my gaze from him to the elevator doors as the floors slid by. When my floor opened, I tried again.

“Thanks for bringing me home,” I said, stepping into the hallway ahead of him. But he just smiled in a benign sort of way and followed me.

“You’re welcome.”

I wanted to gnash my teeth in frustration and barely restrained myself from stomping to my apartment. I’d done a lot of work inside my head to get over my feelings for Parker, and being in close proximity to him outside of our usual environment and the rules that governed it wasn’t helping.

“So are Ryker and you having a … disagreement?” he asked, smoothly taking my keys out of my hand and unlocking my door. He stepped inside and I had no choice but to follow him.

“We probably shouldn’t discuss Ryker,” I said, tossing my purse down on the kitchen table. “Our relationship is between us.”

“Fair enough,” Parker said.

I stood in the middle of the kitchen, arms crossed. I didn’t want him there and wasn’t about to play hostess. However, it appeared I didn’t have to, since he went to my cabinet where I kept my glasses and liquor and proceeded to help himself.

“Would you like one, too?” he asked, loosening his tie with one hand while he poured with the other.

My gaze was caught on his fingers as he tugged the silk and I had to shake myself back to awareness. Dragging my eyes up, I saw him looking at me, the tip of his mouth curving upward just slightly. As though he knew exactly what I’d been watching him do and the thoughts that had flitted through my head.

“If you’re offering me my own liquor, then yeah, I guess so,” I said, sounding more belligerent than I felt.

Parker didn’t reply, just retrieved another glass off the shelf and splashed some of the amber liquid into it. Carrying it, he walked to where I still stubbornly stood and handed it to me. I had to uncross my arms to take it.

“Wouldn’t Monique have a problem with you being here?” I asked, and yes, it was said in that bitchy tone that had most men looking for the nearest exit whenever they heard it.

“Why should I care?” he asked with a shrug, then clinked his glass against mine. “To a nice dinner with your parents,” he toasted.

I eyed him as I took a sip. “It wasn’t nice,” I said. “It was awful and uncomfortable, and I have you to thank for most of that.”

“It’s not my fault Ryker still acts like a teenager instead of a grown man whenever he sees me,” Parker replied coolly as he took another drink.

“Well, we’re together now,” I said. “So I’d appreciate it if you didn’t antagonize him.”

His expression went carefully blank at that, then he turned and walked to the windows. I didn’t have the kind of view Parker did at his apartment, but the city and the lights were still pretty.

“Are you in love with him?”

I stared at his back, sure I’d misheard.

“What?”

“I asked, are you in love with him,” Parker repeated.

“Again, none of your business.” In dire need of the liquor in light of where this conversation was heading, I tossed back the bourbon in one swallow. I coughed a bit as the liquid burned a fire down my throat, but not as much as someone who wasn’t used to it. Which probably said more about my alcohol consumption than I’d like.

“Are you in love with Monique?” I shot back. If he was going to get personal, then so would I.

“I’m not looking for love,” he replied. “And neither is she.”

I shouldn’t have been as glad to hear that as I was.

“I knew it was you, Saturday,” he said. “Right away. As soon as I saw you and Ryker on the boat.”

Well, that put that question to rest, but I didn’t know what to say in response. So he’d seen us. So what?

At last, I said, “I saw you and Monique. Does it matter?” I was tired and this conversation with Parker was going nowhere, not to mention I didn’t even know why we were having it in the first place. I dropped onto the couch and kicked off my heels.

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