Outmatched

Rose immediately jumped up, nearly knocking over her milk in the process. While I righted the glass, she grabbed her plate and turned to go, but then paused. “When you’re done talking to Mommy, do you want to play Minecraft with me?”

Warmth spread through my chest. “Sure. But you gotta promise that you’ll protect me from those blockhead zombie things.”

Her nose wrinkled as she smiled. “You’re a weirdo.”

“Takes one to know one, kid.”

We made faces at each other, and then she scampered off, heading for the family room.

“God,” I said. “She’s just …”

“Like Jake?” Marcy supplied with a tinge of sadness. But her eyes were lit with love. “I know. I see it more every day.”

A lump filled my throat, and I swallowed hard. Earlier, when I’d met Marcy for coffee, I’d planned to tell her everything but found I couldn’t do it. The words got stuck in my mouth, filling it up like cotton. All I could do was reminisce about Jake and hug her when it became too hard for both of us.

But this? It’s another level. I would rather be punched in the face, frankly. Yet here I was, ready to confess.

“So,” she asked. “What’s up?”

“I met someone.” Okay, so I wasn’t ready to confess about the fight.

“You?” Marcy’s brows lifted high.

“Yeah, me. What’s with the face?” But I knew. Marcy, Jake, and I had grown up together. She was the sister I’d never had; Marcy could read me like a well-worn book.

She laughed, the sound uncomfortable yet hopeful. “It’s just … It’s you, Rhys. You’ve never been involved with a woman.” She paused and peered at me. “We are talking about a woman, right? You’re not yanking my chain and it turns out you really meant you met a good accountant and want to recommend him, right?”

“Jesus, Marse.” I rubbed my tight neck with a laugh. “You’re that skeptical I’d commit to someone? And, yes, I’m talking about a woman.”

She shrugged then grinned wide. “So, the mighty Rhys has fallen.”

This time, when I smiled, it felt hopeful too. “I guess I have.”

“Tell me about her.” Marcy followed this command with a pinch to my arm that had me yelping.

“Easy, woman.” I rubbed my arm but was unable to keep the smile off my face. “What to say…?” I tapped my chin, stalling, but when Marcy made a move to pinch me again, I held up my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Her name is Parker. She’s … different.”

“Different,” Marcy repeated.

“She’s quirky. Cute. She wears these preppy dresses that cover her from neck to knee.” But turned me on like nothing had before; I kept that part to myself. “She’s wicked smart. Like Harvard smart. Technically, MIT smart. She gives me shit for everything but only recently started to cuss. Can you believe it? The woman wouldn’t so much as say damn.”

I laughed at the memories of Parker struggling not to curse when ticked off. “She’s an environmentalist. Recycles everything. Hates my car, though I’m pretty sure she’s faking that. But she can’t hide her love for my bike. She does this thing when she laughs. Her nose wrinkles and her cheeks plump up like a chipmunk’s …”

Damn, it was cute when Parker full-out laughed. Especially when she was in my bed. Shit, I missed her.

“Oh my god.” Marcy put a hand to her chest and gaped at me. “You’re in love!”

“What?” My entire body twitched. “No. I… we’ve just started. It’s … I care about her, sure, but—”

“But nothing,” Marcy cut in with glee. “Look at you. You’re going on about her chipmunk smile and her clothes. Her clothes, Rhys. And not in a ‘she wears sexy clothes that make me hot’ kind of dude-bro way.”

“Dude-bro?” I huffed. “And her clothes are sexy.”

Marcy spread her arms as if to say she rested her case. “Guys don’t notice stuff like that unless they’re totally gone on a girl.”

I leveled her a long look but then folded like a card tower. “Fine. I’m into her, yeah? I really like this girl. But love?” No. No. No. Love was … pain. It was loss. Your parents. Your best friend.

Jesus. The mere thought of Dean dying on me made my breath grow thin and fast.

I couldn’t love Parker. I could enjoy my time with her. But love? No. Because one day, I might be like Marcy, sitting alone at my kitchen table, wishing Parker was with me with all my heart and …

Fuck.

I rubbed my chest and swallowed convulsively. A soft hand on my free one had me turning to face Marcy. Understanding lit her eyes.

“It’s good that you found someone to care about, Rhys.” I didn’t miss the emphasis on care. She was throwing me a bone. I caught it and nodded like my heart wasn’t trying to tear itself out of my chest.