Ten Below Zero(25)

“Boyfriend?” Misty’s voice pulled me from my inappropriate thoughts and I shook my head, tearing my eyes from Everett’s.

“He’s no one,” I answered, and focused my attention on the computer again.

“The way he’s looking at you makes that hard to believe,” Misty said, in her annoying little sing song voice. It was as if anytime I felt a foreign emotion, I reached out, desperately, looking for something to be annoyed about. Annoyance was safer, comfortable. Thanks to Misty, my heart rate was slowing and my brow was now furrowing.

“Yeah, well he’s a guy. They all look at us like a piece of meat.”

Misty’s gum popped in my ear. Keep it up, Misty, I thought. I enjoyed being annoyed.

“Oh my God, he’s coming over here!”

There went my heart again. I kept my eyes focused on the computer, though out of my peripheral vision, I saw him approaching, a tall force of black clothing.

“Parker,” he said. I bit my lip and tried to ignore him. His voice was like his drink: smooth, warm like whiskey. I could get drunk off his words.

He was so, so bad for me.

“Parker,” he repeated. “It’s rude to ignore someone.”

Hell. My lip twitched. Without moving my head, I glanced up through my lashes.

“I’ll get your drink order in a minute,” I said, trying to seem like my attention was on the computer, when it was actually completely on Everett.

He leaned forward, bringing his hands up to clasp on either side of the computer table. “You already know what I want, Parker.”

I felt Misty squeal a little next to me before I shot her a look. She winked at me and then scampered away. I finally looked up at Everett.

He looked tired. He always did. But the lines around his eyes were deeper, the shadows under them more pronounced. His hair was in its usual messy, glorious state and his lips were in a firm line. He looked more than a little impatient.

It annoyed me that he dared look impatiently at me. He was the one who’d kicked me out, and then let me back in. Then he’d helped himself to the pieces of my soul I unwillingly gave.

And plus, he’d reminded me that I had a conscience and made me feel things that were uncomfortable. The feelings he’d instilled in me were like wearing a wool sweater that had been washed and dried hot; they were itchy and they didn’t fit.

“What?” I asked, mirroring his impatience.

“We need to talk.”

I felt my jaw tick. “Nope.”

“Yeah, actually we do.” A second later he gripped my forearm in his hand and all but dragged me outside of the restaurant.

“You’re going to get me fired.”

“Do I look like I care?” he asked, exasperated. We stumbled together off the concrete stoop, onto the sidewalk. The air was annoyingly crisp and the street was mostly deserted. I finally turned my eyes to Everett.

“I don’t know why you would care,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Don’t be a brat, Parker. What the hell was that last night?”

I looked away, to the right, showing him the side of my face that was scarred. And then I shrugged, feigning indifference. “I need to get back inside before I lose my job.”

“Fuck your job. You don’t care about it. Why invest even a second of your life in things that don’t make you happy?”

I gritted my teeth. “Not all of us have the luxury you do, Everett.” I didn’t speak his name often. Speaking it now felt personal. My stomach rolled.

“What? The luxury of knowing you’re dying? Some f*cking luxury. Sorry for that.” It was the first time he seemed upset about dying and I couldn’t help it; my eyes moved to him, over him. He stalked away for a second, the sound of jingling coins and the smell of rain swirling around him. And then he turned back and pinned me with his icy eyes before stalking towards me.

I couldn’t help it. The way he was approaching was thrilling. My heart sped up and my lips opened in protest. But before I could utter a word, his lips were on mine, hungrily devouring them, devouring me. His hands held my face tightly, held me as if he was afraid I’d run.

He pulled back and breathed hard. His nose was pressed to mine, our lips still touching. I was terrified to open my eyes, so I just held on to his arms.

“You are wasting your life,” he whispered. “Why did you fight so hard to live so little?” He drew in a breath and then blew it across my face. I felt his fingers touch my scar and I flinched. “You fought, Parker. You are a fighter. But right now, you’re a coward.” He pulled away. “Open your eyes.” I did. His eyes were hard, his eyebrows drawn together. “What are you afraid of?”

“Parker,” a voice came from the door. I pulled away from Everett and reluctantly met Doris’ eyes. She stood on the stoop we’d fallen off of, hands on the hips hiding under her greasy apron. “I don’t pay you to lock lips. Get in here.”

I ran my tongue over my teeth. And then I looked at Everett. There was a challenge in his eyes, to prove him right – to prove I was wasting my life working a job I didn’t enjoy, living a meaningless life. To continue working, to continue breathing in the indifference.

I looked at Doris again. “I quit.”

“No you don’t. You’re fired.”