“I’m not sure what I did to give you the impression I’d ever be fine kissing you on the cheek in a room full of people.” She opens her mouth to speak, but I continue, “I guess it’s good this is all for show. You couldn’t handle me anyway.”

I should’ve known better than to expect some sort of flinch or a step back from Parker. Instead, her eyes narrow, their sweet honey color lit by a glint of mischievousness behind them. She’s about to try to call my bluff.

“Is that what you think?” she purrs out the question. “That I couldn’t handle you?”

Slowly, she rises off the bed. I should take a step back to give her space, but I don’t. Her covered middle touches my bare one, and it takes everything in me to hold in the breath that’s trying to escape. And fuck, Parker can tell. Her red-painted, heart-shaped mouth smooths into a curt smile.

God, I want to ruin her lipstick. I want to be painted in it.

Pushing up on her toes, she asks, “What makes you so sure you could handle me, Fitzy?”

Fuck me. I want to squeeze my eyes shut, but I don’t because no matter where this leads, I don’t want to miss a millisecond of it.

She drops back down onto flat feet. “You’re a quarterback.” Her eyes break their lock with mine and float down my chest. “You love to control the game. But I think you forgot something.”

I swallow. “What’s that?”

“I’m the one calling the plays here, Fitzy.”

My chest rises and falls quickly. “Nothing surprises me. I’m ready for everything.”

I gulp. Except the feel of her hand pressed against my stomach and the raking of her short nails against the hair below my belly button.

Parker tips her head to the side. “Tell me, then. What’s your read on the play now?”

“You’re going to back down and tell me to get ready so we’re not late. Because you’re chicken.”

But Parker doesn’t back down, doesn’t create more space. “And what are you going to do then?”

“Go take a shower,” I answer gruffly. “A cold one.”

I’ve got no shame at this point.

She pulls her hand back, dropping it to her side. I don’t know if it’s a victory or a loss for me, but I let her know I take it as a win. “Chicken.”

Parker shakes her head. “You missed something.”

I raise an arm to scratch the back of my head because I’ve got to do something with my hands if I’m not going to run them along her body. “What’s that?”