“Hey, where did you run off to?” I ask Parks when he finally comes through the front door. It’s close to midnight, and I haven’t talked to him all day. He bailed earlier and sent me some uber strange text that he had to meet a client. I could have sworn he told me that he had today free.

“I don’t answer to you, woman!” he slurs and slams the front door. He’s completely blitzed out of his mind.

“Holy fuck! Did you drive home like that?”

“I told you. I! Don’t! Answer! To! You!” He flops down on the couch next to me and leans his head back, reeking of liquor and resting his arm atop of his head. I pat his pockets searching for his car keys, but he pushes me away.

“Where are they?” I ask him aggravated. This is so not like him.

“I don’t know. I think I might’ve valeted earlier.”

“Where?”

He reaches in his pocket and hands me a yellow ticket for the valet. But it doesn’t have a name or anything on it. “So what? You walked home and left your car at a random club?”

“I! Don’t! Answer! To! You!” he repeats again, and I have no clue why he’s acting this way. His eyes are closed, and as I sit here next to him, waiting for a response, he falls asleep. Within a few seconds, he’s snoring loudly.

Dickbag!

I snap my fingers in front of his face, but he doesn’t move. It’s then that I realize there is something sticking out of the right pocket of his coat. Gently, I reach over and pull it out. It’s a napkin that has some woman’s number written on it.

What the fuck kind of name is Cocoa?

I’m tempted to text her and tell her that he’s not interested. For fuck’s sake, he has a girlfriend, and they’ve been together for years. I don’t know much about her, I only met her once, but from what I saw and he tells me, they seem really happy. So, what is he thinking going out and getting some chick’s phone number?

Fuck, this is the same shit Leo did to me, how could Parks even think this is okay? Looking at his drunken demeanor, I hit his arm to try to wake him, but he doesn’t move.

I pull my mind back to reality. There has to be a reason for it . . . right? Parks is the most honest guy I know. Maybe he’s just having a bad day, and that’s why he disappeared. Regardless, whatever it is, he’d never cheat on Mallory. And he’s never interfered in my love life, so I drop it, but looking down at her name written all swirly and shit, it’s annoying. A part of me is jealous, and it’s not for defending his girlfriend. It’s for my own feelings that I have for him, feelings I’ve been hiding for years. I shouldn’t feel that way about him . . . but for some reason, in this moment, it really bothers me.

“Parks.” I shake him hard, trying to wake him so I can get him to his bed, but he mumbles and angrily pushes my hands off his body.

What the fuck?

“Parks.” I try again but get the same response.

Asshole!

So, I leave his drunk ass on the couch and head to my room. Flopping down on the bed, the exhaustion immediately hits me hard. God, what a shitty day it’s been and as I stress about everything that’s happened, the exhaustion of my body takes over my mind sending me into oblivion.

“Fallon!” Parks calls for me, waking me from my comatose sleep state. This bed is amazing. It feels like I’m wrapped in a million feathers, and I don’t want it to ever end. But he calls me again, and I know I have to answer.

“What?” I holler from my room and hear him groan. It’s that noise that forces me to my feet and into the living room, where I find him still on the couch.

“You okay?” I ask, and he shakes his head.

“Can you please get me some Advil from my bathroom?”

“That bad?”

He nods, and I almost feel sorry for him as I head to get him some medicine. I grab the bottle from his medicine cabinet and fill him up a cup of water from the fridge. He gives me a half smile as I hand him both before lifting his feet so I can sit on the end of the couch with them in my lap. At least he kicked his shoes off sometime last night.

“I tried to get you to go to your bed last night, but you were nasty.”

“I was?” He looks horrified as he says it.

“Yes! And when you got home all you kept saying was, I! Don’t! Answer! To! You!”

“Shut the fuck up,” he says and rubs his hands over his face. I nod, looking at him dead serious.

“You think I made that all up? It’s the truth. Oh . . . and I found this, too.” I hand him the napkin from the coffee table with Cocoa’s name and number on it. He drops it to the floor and rolls over. His large body barely fits on this couch.

“I’m sorry if I was rude,” he mumbles into a pillow.

“It’s okay. I really don’t care about that, but I am worried about you. You didn’t seem yourself.”

“Don’t be. I stopped to have one drink and got carried away.”

“Parks, come on. You don’t get carried away. You’re the most responsible guy I know.”

“No, I’m not,” he tells me, and I hear my phone ringing in the distance. “You can get that,” he says, and I drop the conversation he and I are having; then scramble to my bedroom to answer my phone before the call gets sent to voice mail.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Fallon, this is Marla.”

“Good morning, Marla.” I glance at the clock, wondering why she is calling since my shift today doesn’t begin until noon.

“I was calling to see if you could come into work a little early?”

“Uh, how early?”

“As soon as you can get here would be great.”

“Oh . . . okay. Yeah, I’ll get ready and head on in.”

“Thanks.”

We hang up, and as much as I don’t want to go in today at all, much less early, it’ll keep me busy, and I need the money to be able to move out on my own. Plus, I owe her. She gave me yesterday off, so the least I can do is return the favor.