CHAPTER NINETEEN
Raven
The sound of my phone buzzing on the nightstand was loud, jarring, and very, very annoying.
It wasn't the most pleasant sound in the world to wake up to.
Groaning, I rolled over and batted my hand around on the top of the nightstand. Then, I realized the bed was vibrating. It was a mammoth effort to open my eyes, but somehow, I managed it so I could look down the gap between the cupboard and my bed. Just like I assumed it was, my phone was wedged between the leg of the bed and the wooden side of my nightstand.
I fished it out with my finger. The moment it was free, it stopped ringing.
Of course, it did.
I picked it up and looked at the screen. Ryan. I frowned—it was early for him to be calling...wait, no it wasn't. It was seven-thirty. I'd overslept.
No sooner had I finished the thought than my phone buzzed again. It was Ryan.
"What do you want?" I demanded, answering the phone.
"Did you oversleep?" came his response.
"Maybe. I was tired. What do you want?"
He laughed. "Have you seen Parker?"
"You just woke me up. Do you think I've seen Parker?"
"Shall I call back when you've had coffee?"
"Can you get to the point of this irritating conversation?" I shoved the covers to the side and swung my legs out of the bed. I hadn't bothered to throw any clothes on before I'd fallen asleep last night.
Ryan sighed. "Ilsa said Parker didn't go home last night. She came over this morning when his car wasn't in the drive and asked me if I knew where he was. I don't, and you're the last person I know who would've seen him, so I'm calling you."
I jerked around and looked at the other side of the bed. Messy and unkept, but no Parker.
"No idea." I swallowed and glanced at the floor. His clothes were gone, too. Only mine remained. "Hold on." I put my phone down and checked the notification bar. There were no messages from him, so if he wasn't here and hadn't gone home, maybe he was downstairs?
I threw an oversized shirt on over my head and quickly pulled some panties up my legs before grabbing my phone again.
"I don't have any messages from him," I said, opening my bedroom door. "I can't hel—" I finished on a scream, because the missing man was standing shirtless in my kitchen.
"Raven?" Ryan said into my ear right as Parker glanced over his shoulder at me. "Are you all right?"
"Ssshhh—shit!" I held my finger in front of my mouth. "Spider!" I said to Ryan. "I walked into the bathroom and there's a big spider in my tub."
Parker rubbed his hand down his face and shook his head.
"You're screaming at a spider?" Ryan's amusement was evident in his restrained tone.
"It's a big one. It scared me." I slammed my bedroom door behind me. "I just locked it in there."
"It's a spider."
"You're not helping." This was the worst lie ever. "I need to get rid of it, so I have to go. If I haven't heard from you by the time Parker starts work, I'll tell him to call his mom. Bye!" I hung up and threw my phone on the sofa like it was on fire.
"What the hell was that about?" Parker asked, spatula-flipper thingy in hand.
"You're still here!" It came out as more of a squeak than anything.
He stared at me for a moment. "Yeah, but I'm kind of stuck on the fact I've been both a stubbed toe and a spider this week."
I sunk my fingers into my hair. It was messy, and my fingers got caught on some small knots as they threaded through the locks. "Ryan called and woke me up." I summarized the phone call. "And I panicked when I saw you, because I didn't know you were still here."
"Why wouldn't I be here?"
"I fell asleep and thought you left!"
He shook his head, turning back to my cooker. "I fell asleep, too. I didn't wake up until your alarm went off this morning."
"Why didn't you wake me up? I'm late and I have to put orders through today."
"You didn't move," he said. "So I shut it off, took a shower, and came to make breakfast."
Now that he'd mentioned it, I could see his dark hair was wet. "Okay, well, you need to call your mom and tell her you aren't dead or anything."
"I'll text her soon. I can't do it right after Ryan's called you, can I? That won't look suspicious at all."
"Half an hour. Say I left you a voicemail to see if you were coming into work because you were MIA and you realized you forgot to tell her you weren't coming home."
"The fact I have to tell her I'm not coming home is, in itself, ridiculous."
"And that's why I live alone." I smiled and pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge. "What are you making?"
"Omelets. Yia-Yia left me omelet seasoning so I thought I'd try it."
I peered over his arm at the pan. "Where did you get the ingredients?" I knew for a fact I didn't have eggs in my fridge.
"Downstairs." He glanced at me as if the answer was obvious. Which it was, honestly. "Your fridge is both impressively empty and sadly understocked."
I shrugged and leaned against the counter. "I don't eat breakfast unless I'm forced to."
Parker slid the omelet out of the pan and onto a plate in one smooth movement. Then, he picked up the plate, and held it out to me. "Well, I'm forcing you to eat."
I might not have been a big breakfast eater, but I wasn't going to turn down food.
"I can deal with that." I smiled and reached for the plate, but before I could take it, he swung his arm out wide where I couldn't reach it. "Hey!"
He grabbed the front of my shirt, yanking me toward him. I'd barely righted my footing when he dropped his mouth to mine and planted a slow, easy kiss on my lips. Releasing me like he'd done nothing out of the ordinary, he put the plate back between us and also handed me a knife and fork. "Morning."
I snatched the plate and cutlery before he could take it away again. "Thanks. I think?"
He laughed as I sat at the table. "Your good morning was screaming at me. The least you could do was kiss me."
I rolled my eyes and stabbed my fork into the cheesy, melty, eggy goodness. "You should have announced yourself. Left your pants on the floor or something."
"I'll remember that for next time."
"Next time? This is going to happen again?" I was teasing him, because let's be honest. There were worse things in life than having sex with a hot guy, then waking up to find said hot guy making you breakfast while half-naked.
"Yep. I'll just remember to call my mom first."
I laughed, then moaned as I finally put the first forkful of breakfast into my mouth.
Parker side-eyed me. "If you want to finish your breakfast in peace, don't do that again."
I flipped him the bird. His other option was to just ignore me, but that would be too easy, of course. So, I deliberately moaned with my next mouthful. And the next. And the next.
All the while, I watched Parker. He kept glancing over his shoulder at me, his lips twitching up to one side. He knew what I was doing, and that was kind of annoying. It was less fun when it didn't bug him.
"You're annoyed that isn't annoying me, aren't you?" he asked, dumping cheese into the pan.
"Kind of." I picked up my water bottle. "I can't help but feel like my intentions were grand, but the execution of it was really not."
"I would argue that your intentions were dumb."
"I think you're supposed to compliment a woman whose bed you stole."
"I didn't steal your bed." He put down the spatula and turned. I swear to god, his abs winked at me. "I borrowed half of it. Stealing it would imply you had to sleep on the floor."
"Maybe I did. I was very asleep. You could have put me on the rug and I wouldn't have noticed." I picked up my empty plate and carried it over to the sink. "For all I know, you had the entire bed."
He grabbed me wrists and pulled me into his body. "Raven, you're the biggest starfisher I've ever met. If anybody stole the bed, it was you."
"It is my bed." I blinked up at him. "And I've had it to myself for a long time."
"That's because you talk in your sleep." He kissed the end of my nose. It was almost too tender, but I couldn't deny the fizz of delight I felt.
"I do not talk in my sleep." I prodded his chest.
"You totally talk in your sleep. You were asking someone to take the dog out at three a.m., and you don't even have a dog." His eyes crinkled as he smiled. "I asked you who the dog was, and you told me it was Satan's hellhound."
"Um."
"Apparently, Satan's hound was hungry."
"Um..." Crap.
"So, I'm starting to wonder what goes on in that pretty little head of yours." He pulled me even closer to him, dipping his head. "And if I should be scared you might kill me in my sleep."
"Look," I said, raising my eyebrows. "If I haven't killed you after twenty-something years of you pissing me off, I'm not gonna off you now that you're giving me orgasms."
"If I knew that was all it took to make you like me, I would have done it years ago. It would have been worth the risk."
"Is it worth the risk now?"
"I need another night in bed with you. Your dreaming about Satan's hellhound has given me doubts."
I pursed my lips, and he took that as an invitation to kiss me again. I didn't mind. He tasted like fresh coffee and smelled like sunshine. Whatever the fuck sunshine smelled like.
"Parker?" I murmured against his mouth. "Your omelet is burning."
He let go of me so fast I staggered back. True as hell, when he pulled the omelet off the heat and put it on a plate, the underside was a little...black.
"This is pure gold," I said, walking back toward my room, giggling a little too much. "The three-starred Michelin chef just burned an omelet."
His dark eyes locked onto me. "I'm going to leave this for Satan's hellhound. Just in case he's hungry tonight, too."
I stuck my middle finger up at him and headed into the bathroom. "If he is, and he comes, I hope he shits on your head!"
His laughter was the last thing I heard before I locked the door and started the shower.
Why did that feel all too natural?
***
Satan's hellhound.
I'd spent the entire morning figuring out how I could have possibly talked in my sleep. As far as I knew, I was a snorer, not a talker. Not that snoring was any better, but at least there was no chance of saying anything really dumb like I apparently had.
Where did that even come from? What the hell was going on in my subconscious mind?
Was the hellhound code for my brother? Or my crazy family?
Both were viable options.
It was why I was at my parents' house in Key West and not at work. Never mind that I still had an order to place. According to my mother, that could be done anywhere as long as I had my laptop and phone with me, but the seating plan for dinner at the reunion couldn't be done anywhere else or even brought to me. Nope, it had to be done on my mother's kitchen table with ten Karras' in the general vicinity.
I didn't expect it to go well.
In fact, I knew without a doubt it was going to go the way my dream apparently did last night—Hell. It was going to go to Hell, and it probably wouldn't even take the handbasket.
"Did anyone find Parker?" Mom asked, putting a mug of coffee in front of me.
"Find him? What is he? A lost puppy?" I rolled my eyes. "He was never lost, he was just...somewhere else and out of touch."
"Where was he last night?"
I shrugged and clicked my pen. "I don't know. He walked into the bar and I told him he needed to call his mom before a big, fat Greek search party got unleashed on the Florida Keys. He grumbled something about being almost thirty and not needing to check in with his mom every day, and I told him he should move out or quit bitching."
It was a close enough summary. So what if the first part was a big, fat lie?
"Did you get rid of your spider?" Mom took the seat next to me.
"My spider?" I blinked at her.
She slowly raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, Henry. He's trapped under a glass." I sipped my coffee. "I figure he'll either run out of oxygen or I can make someone get rid of it for me."
"Why didn't you ask Parker when he showed up?"
"Because he'd probably throw it at my head for his own amusement." If the spider were real, that would be a possibility.
"Was he wearing the same clothes when he came in this morning?"
"Mom." I held my hands out and gaped at her. "I don't know. I didn't even look at him. I was working—like I should be right now."
"I still think it's strange that you were the last and first person to see him. Don't you?"
"Given that nobody saw him between him finishing and starting work, I don't find it weird at all, actually." I opened my laptop. "Someone else obviously saw him during those hours. We just don't know who."
"I'd love to know who. Wouldn't you?"
"What the hell is up with all these questions?" I finally looked her in the eye. "I'm already here against my will and better judgment given the noise from the living room. Must you continue to torture me further?"
Mom grimaced. "Sorry, Ray. I just find the entire situation strange. Ilsa said something about a conversation they had and, I don't know. I think I jumped to conclusions."
I slammed the pen down and glared at her. "Mother. Are you suggesting that he and I spent the night together?"
"Who spend night together?" Yia-Yia shuffled into the kitchen, today's dress a vibrant yellow that actually compliment her dark, olive skin. "Raven. You answer."
"Parker," Mom jumped in before I could. "But I was wrong. Apparently."
"Apparently? There's no apparently about it." Yes, there was. "If he and I ever spent the night together, it'd be because I'd be figuring out what to do with his dead body. Just because we're actually nice to one another now doesn't mean we're sleeping together."
Yia-Yia sniffed the orange juice carton before nodding. "He want you."
Both me and Mom turned to her. "What?" I asked her.
"That boy, he want you." She poured the juice into a glass without looking at us. "I see in his eyes."
"Who want who?" Great Aunt Maria stepped into the kitchen, her accent almost thicker than Yia-Yia's. "We have mimosa?"
"We don't have mimosas, Aunt Maria." How Mom was keeping a blank expression, I didn't know.
"What's the use of having Raven if we don't have mimosas?" Great Aunt Maria switched to Greek.
I knew this would be a shitshow. More surprising was my mom's stream of questions. I didn't know what Parker's conversation with his mom had been about, but I knew it couldn't be good.
I left my family to the discussion about mimosas—I could barely understand their Greek now anyway—and picked up my phone to text Parker.
Me: Important. Are you there?
Parker: What happened? Did someone burn down the house?
Me: Mom asked me a lot of uncomfortable questions. Did you talk to your mom about me?
Nothing.
Me: PARKER.
Parker: She might have weaseled out of me that I have some confusing feelings for you.
Parker: Wait.
Parker: She promised me she wouldn't tell your mom.
Me: YOU'RE AN IDIOT
Me: THEY TELL EACH OTHER EVERYTHING THEY'RE LIKE CHILDREN
Me: THIS IS A DISASTER
Me: YOU FOOLISH DICKNUGGET
Parker: Is your caps stuck or are you shouting at me?
Me: Calling you a cocknugget didn't clue you in?
Me: I'm going to Google lucid dreaming so I can make Satan's hellhound eat you in my dreams tonight.
Parker: I don't know what to say to that, so I'm going to say OK, I might deserve it.
Me: Ugh.
He was going to kill me. I knew I should have killed him years ago.
Me: And there is nothing remotely confusing about the way you feel when you want to insert your penis into my vagina!
Parker: That's the least sexy thing I've ever heard.
Me: GOOD. Now you won't be so confused.
Parker: Actually, I'm more confused, because, as you put it, I still enjoy the idea of inserting my penis into your vagina.
Me: I can't believe we're semi-sexting and my family are arguing about the lack of mimosas. In Greek.
Parker: Did you start that seating plan yet? Why do you even need one? I talked your grandma into a buffet. Buffets don't need seating plans.
And that was a very good point.
"Aren't we doing a buffet?" I asked the moment there was a break in the conversation. "Parker just reminded me. We don't need a seating plan for a buffet because everyone just grabs food. Not to mention it's a reunion and not a goddamn wedding."
Yia-Yia grinned. "I still smash plates."
Obviously. "I haven't been at a party with you where you haven't. But, I'm just pointing it out. Nobody is going to stick to the plan. Everybody will complain, and then move, so, it's all a—"
"I'm not sitting next to her!" Demetri snapped, storming into the room. My fourteen-year-old cousin, Alexa the Second as we affectionately called her, was hot on his heels. "If you put me with her, we'll have a reunion and a funeral!"
"Your funeral!" Alexa the Second shouted at him. "And I'll spit on your grave!"
I slumped forward on the table.
"I'll spit on you right now!"
"Where are the mimosas?"
"Mamá!"
"Ay, children!"
"You started this!"
"And I'm finishing it!" Mom hollered, slamming her hand on the table, making it jump.
I sat up and looked around. Total silence had descended on the kitchen. Between Great Aunt Maria's misgivings about the lack of mimosas, Yia-Yia's frustration at fighting, and the actual fighting, it had been pandemonium. Now, the only sound that remained was the ticking of the clock on the wall and the blaring of the television in the other room where Great Uncle Alex was watching some game show.
"There will be no seating plan," Mom said after a moment. "But you two will be firmly separated, and Aunt Maria will be by the bar."
"Awesome," I said, closing my laptop. "It's always a thrill to drive forty-five minutes to get nothing more than a headache. I could have called if I wanted that."
"Sit." Mom ordered me. "Everyone else out."
The teenagers ran out of the kitchen, but Yia-Yia and Great Aunt Maria hovered as if they were undecided about whether or not to let my mom dictate anything to them. After one sharp look from Mom—that I think made Yia-Yia snicker—they left.
"Since when did you and Parker text?" Mom asked me in a low voice.
I stared at her flatly. "Since when did it matter who I'm texting?"
"I'm your mother. I can ask you whatever I want."
"Yeah, well, if the police give me the right to remain silent upon arrest, I'm pretty sure I have the right to remain silent here, too." I stuffed my laptop into my purse and grabbed my phone.
Mom laughed into her coffee mug. "You're smarter than he is."
I paused in the door. "I wasn't aware that had ever been up for debate, but you're right. I am. Maybe you should interrogate him instead."
Her smile was wry. "Maybe I will."
Of course, my silence had given her everything she needed to know, but that was beside the point.
I didn't know what the point was, but I knew it wasn't that.
I hoped it wasn't that.