Kickin' It (Red Card #2)(24)

She smiled at that.

“Use your words nicely, so I know how to make sure you succeed, alright?”

“I thought you weren’t my friend.”

Silence settled between us as I thought about the times she’d lashed out. It wasn’t anger talking—it was fear. Protectiveness crashed over me hard and fast.

“Things change,” I said as I stood, wanting to do nothing more than wrap my arms around her and ask who hurt her so I could hurt them. “I think you need a friend who isn’t Willow.”

Her laugh made me smile. “She’s a good friend.”

“She’s manipulative.”

“In the best of ways.” Parker beamed up at me. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have met you.”

“You can’t say things like that to me. I don’t know what to do when you’re being nice.”

“Likewise.”

We stared for a few more minutes, me trying to figure her out, and her probably trying to decide if she really could trust me.

A knock sounded at the door, and Willow poked her head in. “Everything okay after that yelling match?”

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“Yup,” Parker agreed. “I’m just going to go to bed.”

“Okay.” Willow sent me a seething glare as I followed her out, and just as I was about to turn off the light, I reached for the lamp, turned it on, then turned off the master light.

From her expression, you’d think I’d just given her gold.

Parker mouthed “Thank you.”

I shut the door behind me and suddenly felt older than my thirty years.

On one hand she was this courageous, talented woman; on the other hand, she seemed like she’d jump if she saw her own shadow.

I felt her relax when we talked.

Saw it on her face.

I wanted her to see herself the way the world would see her: talented, beautiful.

With a sigh I ran my hands through my hair again and wondered how I could save her when she refused to be the girl who needed saving.

She had lifeboats surrounding her and yet she was still drowning. I could try to be one of those lifeboats . . . or I could end up sinking right along with her.





Chapter Twelve PARKER

I woke up and got dressed in my workout gear then nearly tripped over something left in front of my door.

It was a stuffed dinosaur.

The note pinned to it said To chase the darkness away. —Matt I smiled so big you’d think someone had just given me a million dollars. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept with a stuffed animal. My throat closed up as I set it on top of my made bed with a smile, ready to take a picture and send it to Willow to brag that someone had given me something so wonderful.

Except what would I say?

Your brother got me a dinosaur because I opened up to him about some fears, no big deal?

She’d pry.

And she already knew that I refused to speak about that day. Would she be hurt to know that I opened up even just a little to Matt?

If you had told me a week ago I would talk to him about anything, I would have laughed my ass off.

Now I felt . . . freer, like saying the words didn’t damn me as much as I thought they would. Instead, we’d shared a smile, and I’d stupidly thought about his smile all night, and the way he touched my leg, not like he was ready to pounce but like he genuinely wanted to make sure that I was okay.

It had been a long time since I’d been touched out of care.

And I liked it a lot.

Amazing what human kindness does to someone with so many scars.

I shut my door quietly and made my way into the bathroom. The light was on, the door open.

And as luck would have it, Matt was shirtless, brushing his teeth like it was normal for me to walk in on him without him yelling profanities or using all the hot water.

I stopped in the doorway.

He narrowed his eyes.

I narrowed mine and crossed my arms.

And then he spit into the sink and rinsed it down, wiped his mouth with the towel, and turned toward me. I saw nothing but muscled abs and a tan that looked way too real to be anything but.

With a twitch of his lips, he grabbed my toothbrush, sauntered toward me, then stopped. My breath stalled in my lungs as he held it out to me.

“Be ready in five.”

I nodded dumbly as I took it from his hands then stupidly called after his retreating back, “Thanks for the dinosaur!”

He stopped walking, shook his head, and then kept going.

When I turned to look in the mirror, my face was flushed like I’d just run drills for five hours, and my hand shook as I tried to put toothpaste on the bristles.

And when I looked back in the mirror.

I smiled.

Thanks for the dinosaur?

Good one, Parker. Good one.



“Why are you smiling at me like that?” Matt yelled as I ran another lap then hit the cones, dribbling between them before hitting the ball in his direction in order to score.

“Just.” I sucked in a breath. “Imagining.” Make it through the cones, and last one, break out. “Strangling you.” Aim. Kick. Goal! “In your sleep!”

“Again.” He grinned, tossing me the ball.

“See?” I went through that same drill another ten times, until he had every move in my arsenal memorized, meaning basically no more goals on my end and more running instead.