Blurred Lines (Love Unexpectedly 1)

“Who was that?” Ana asks when I hang up.

“A friend.”

“Sounded like more than a friend,” she says indifferently, taking a piece of gum out of her purse.

I stare at this tiny blonde as my brain buzzes.

It strikes me as utterly ridiculous and yet completely undeniable that this virtual stranger is the one who opens my eyes to the biggest, most crucial truth of my life:

Parker is more than a friend.

Has perhaps always been more than a friend.

The realization turns me upside down, inside out, and yet…

I can never let her know it.

Not unless I want to lose her all over again.

Chapter 29

Parker

I don’t know what made me call Ben instead of Lance.

I only know that when I open the front door of my parents’ house and see Ben standing on the porch that I’ve made the right decision.

A realization he only confirms when he steps into the foyer, closes the door, and without a single word, takes me into his arms and holds me.

I let out a shuddering breath, and for the first time in an hour, I feel…well, not good…but I feel like I can survive this.

Like I can survive anything as long as Ben’s here.

My fingers clench, tangling in the fabric of his shirt. I rest my head on his shoulder and let myself remember what it feels like to breathe. For the first time in hours.

No, for the first time in weeks.

He smells like other women’s perfume, but I don’t even care. I care only that he’s here.

That he came.

After everything we’ve been through, after the way we’ve spoken to each other, after the immature way we threw away years of friendship over a stupid squabble, he’s come, and he’s here and he’s holding me.

My eyes water, and his hand moves over my hair. “Don’t cry.”

But of course I do. I sob. Just like he knows I will.

And he lets me, never uttering stupid it will be okay platitudes. He doesn’t make weird soothing noises. He just holds me.

Eventually I manage to pull back enough to

let out a huge slobbering noise, and he glances down at his white shirt, which is now smeared with black eye makeup and the faint beige tinge of my tinted moisturizer.

He points at his chest. “Well, here’s one thing I haven’t missed.”

I smile faintly.

“I’ll get the industrial-sized tissue box,” he says, running a hand down my arm before heading toward the bathroom. Then he pauses. Turns back. “Parker?”