And as he holds me close, reminding me of all the reasons the world is pretty fucking amazing, I feel the weight of something I've been carrying around for twenty years lift off my shoulders.

This beautiful, messy, crazy life with this beautiful, messy, crazy man?

I want it.

16.

The Hero

Later that night, I wake to Parker's head between my legs. It's late, the middle of the night, but any sense of fatigue or residual anxiety from the day before is driven out by the sensation on his mouth, moving with expertise. I feel needy under his touch, with my hands in his hair and my body totally at his mercy. It doesn't take long for him to send me barreling toward the brink of pleasure. My toes curl, my hips arch, and I feel myself starting to losing control.

"Come up here," I pant, trying desperately to form coherent thoughts as my orgasm builds.

He grunts something unintelligible, never pausing in his efforts.

Holy shit.

"I want to see your eyes when I come, honey," I breathe. "Please, Parker."

At that, he goes still.

"Fuck," he mutters, crawling up my body, planting kisses as he moves from my thighs to my stomach to my breasts to the column of my throat. When his face comes level with mine, I see restraint and passion warring in his eyes.

"You can't say my name like that and expect me to stay in control." His voice is thick with need.

"I want to finish together," I tell him honestly. "I want you inside me."

"This is supposed to be about you." His voice is hoarse. "I'll survive."

"I know you'll survive. That's not the point." I arch up and kiss him. And then, I say something I've never said before. Something, if I'm being entirely honest, I never thought I'd find myself saying.

"Make love to me, Parker."

His eyes darken as his control snaps. A few seconds later, he pushes inside me, holding my gaze the entire time, and I look up at him knowing we can never go back to being strangers. It's not just sex. Not just passion or pleasure.

It's Parker.

Somehow in the space of a week, he's got both hands wrapped firmly around my heart.

I have a feeling he's not going to let go.

Not ever.

And strangely... I'm okay with that.

Christmas Eve dawns bright and cold outside the loft windows. I leave Parker asleep in my bed and make my way into the bathroom. In the fluorescent light, the faint bruising around my neck from where my attacker held me looks even uglier than it did last night. Thankfully, the thin slice wound just below my jawline isn't visible unless I tilt my head back.

I hop in the shower, turning the water almost as hot as it will go, and stand under the torrent for a while. It's the anniversary of my parents' death by all accounts, the worst day of my year.

And yet... the dreadful weight that usually fills my chest from the moment my eyes open on this day simply isn't there. Instead, there's a light, fluttery feeling inside my soul, crowding out the sadness.

I know that feeling has everything to do with the tall, bronze-haired man sleeping in my bed.

As though he's heard me call him in my thoughts, a few seconds later Parker steps into the shower behind me and slides his arms around my stomach.

"Good morning." His voice is still husky with sleep as he plants a kiss against my neck.

"Morning," I breathe, leaning into him.

"Are you okay?" He pulls back. "Sorry. Stupid question. I know today is impossible for you."

I turn in his arms and loop my hands around his neck. "Surprisingly... I'm okay."

His brows lift.

"Really." I push up onto my tiptoes and try plant a kiss on his lips - except I'm too short to reach. "Bend down, you giant human, so I can kiss you."

His eyes flash. "I'll do you one better."

Lifting me so my legs go around his waist, his hips pin my body as he backs me up against the tile wall. His lips find mine and I get my kiss... plus a hell of a lot more, as his hands move against my wet skin.

After our shower, we towel off in silence. I'm still grinning like an idiot from the after-glow of my orgasm.

"So, you're gonna have to pack at least a week's worth of clothes," Parker says casually, running the towel over his damp hair to remove most of the moisture.

The grin falls off my face. "Excuse me?"

"Clothes." He drops the towel. "Enough for a week."

"I'm not following."

"You can't stay here alone."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because someone followed you here. It's obvious they know where you live. Which means it's not safe for you to be here."

"I'm not leaving." I swallow. "This is my home."

"Fine." He shrugs. "Then I'll move in."

"What?!" I gape at him. "You'll do no such thing."

"Oh, darling, don't test me." He smiles, but there's a dangerous edge to it. "You're not going to be out of my sight until this shit with Lancaster is resolved." He pauses. "Maybe even after that."

"What?!" I exclaim again.

He doesn't answer. He just takes a few steps closer, bends down, and kisses me hard and fast. "I'm hungry. You want breakfast? I'll make breakfast."

Without another word, he strides naked out of my bathroom, leaving me slack-jawed and reeling.

"But-" I call after him, feeling totally helpless. "You can't move in. I mean it, Parker!"

"You like bacon, right?" he calls back.

I sigh.

Fuck.

When my phone rings later that day, I grimace as I glance at the screen.

Parker looks up from his spot on my couch, where he's been camped out watching old Christmas movies on my spare laptop for the past four hours as I pour over Lancaster files. He pulls off his headphones and raises his brows when he sees my expression.

"Who is it?"

I sigh. "Phoebe. Who on earth gave her my number?"

He laughs. "You do realize she'll just keep calling until you answer, right?"

"I was afraid you'd say that."

He pops his headphones back in to give me a little privacy and returns to his movie as I connect the call.

"Hello?"

"Holy frack, I can't believe you answered. I was pretty much positive you were going to ignore my calls until I was forced to come over there bearing cupcakes and scale the walls into your apartment with my bare hands." She hauls in a breath. "Really happy you proved me wrong, though, because I don't think many cupcake stores are even open today, what with it being Christmas Eve and all. Plus, I think channeling my inner Spiderman may be a challenge in Louboutins."

"Hi, Phoebe." I say dryly when she stops babbling.

"Oh! Sorry. Probably should've said hello before launching in like a lunatic." She sighs. "Anyway, Nate gave me your number. He didn't want to, but I was in a..." She pauses and her voice drops to a sultry whisper. "Persuasive mood."

"Gross."

She laughs. "Anyway, I just wanted to call and tell you how worried we all were about you. And also to apologize for yesterday. I feel fully responsible. We totally freaked you out with all that talk about relationships and true love. Seriously uncalled for, I see that now. Trust me, Parker was so unbelievably pissed at me when I called to tell him we'd scared you off, I'll be surprised if he ever talks to me again."

"You don't need to apologize, Phoebe." I glance at the man across the loft; he's fully engrossed in his movie. "And he shouldn't blame you for a thing. I think he was just..."

"Scared," she murmurs. "Yeah, I figured that from the way he reamed me out last night."

I sigh. "I'll talk to him."

"You don't have to. That's not why I called." She pauses. I can tell she wants to say more, but is worried how I'll react.

"Just say it," I murmur tiredly.

"Say what?"

"The real reason you called. Just tell me. We both know you're dying to get it out."

She makes a grumbly sound of protest. "So sassy. Maybe I just called to apologize."

"Phoebe."

"Okay! Okay." She clears her throat. "Is Parker, like, right there hovering over you?"

"No. He's watching a movie."

"The boy does love a good Charlie Brown Christmas marathon."

"I'm getting that."

"One year, he made us watch it seven times in a row because he said there weren't enough-"

"Phoebe."

"Right." She clears her throat again. "The thing is, I really am sorry that I upset you yesterday. It wasn't my intention at all. Clearly, all the talk about love and relationships made you bolt faster than Boo when he sees a squirrel in the Public Garden. And that makes me somewhat nervous to say what I have to say."