Looking completely unaffected by everything that has just occurred, she glances down at her own chest and contemplates it for a long moment. "Yep, I'm aware of the boob situation going on but thanks for pointing it out to me, Parker, or should I just call you- Captain Obvious?"
Hmm... That wasn’t exactly the reaction I was going for.
Seriously, who is this girl anyway?
Because right now I'm feeling confused and I don't like it. Not one damn bit.
I need to decide quickly how I'm going to play this situation.
And her.
Unfortunately I'm drawing blanks right now. It's like my brain has gone on a temporary hiatus. I’m going to be completely honest with you, usually my interactions with the females are light and teasingly easy. I'm full of compliments with a few lingering touches thrown in for good measure. And most importantly, I'm the one in control of the conversation. I'm the one who decides how the situation will unfold.
This has gone exactly the opposite of that and now I'm the one who's been left feeling tongue tied and unsure. Nope, I definitely don't like this at all.
My eyes roam over her face while I wait for my brain to finally click back into gear. But I can't just stand here like a dumbass, I have to say something. Maybe if I can figure out who she is, I can get this capsized conversation back on track.
"Let me save you the trouble, Parker Montgomery, because I can see the little hamster wheel spinning in your head. You don't know me. And frankly, because of your rather man whore-ish reputation, I'm okay with that. You're like a walking advertisement for STD's. One I’ll be passing on."
I think my chin just hit the cement.
Holy crap.
Did this girl seriously just say that to me?
I have to admit that I'm sort of blown away. Man whore? I'm not a man whore. I mean, sure I've been with a number of girls, but does that necessarily make me a man whore? Is someone who guzzles a shit ton of wine necessarily an alcoholic? Hell no, we call them wine connoisseurs. Well, I just so happen to consider myself a connoisseur of females (only hot banging chicks need apply). That doesn’t necessarily make me a man whore, does it? I didn’t think so.
Still gaping at her like a fish out of water (because yeah, I can actually feel it), all I seem capable of doing is staring at her feeling totally... damn it!
I can't even adequately explain how I'm feeling right now. The only thing I seem capable of doing is hoisting my cup to my lips and taking a great big gulp of beer.
I have to admit that this has not exactly been one of my finest Parker moments. Not by a long shot.
But like I said, this girl has somehow thrown me completely off my game. And that usually doesn’t happen to me. Like ever. I'm hoping the beer will help me get my mojo back. Liquid courage or something like that. I don't even know anymore. Just as I open my mouth to fire back some cutting retort, she beats me to the punch.
"Listen, this little meet and greet has been really fun, but I've got to take off."
What?
Does she really think that I'm just going to let her walk away from me?
Oh. Hell. No.
No one calls me a man whore, to my face no less, and then just ends the conversation.
Wait a minute... she's already gone.
I blink, again feeling confused by how this whole situation just played out. What the hell just happened here? How did she manage to turn the tables so completely on me? She's at least a good five steps away and is getting further by the second. For just a moment I find myself distracted by the swing of her slim hips as she strides towards the house before I have the good sense to take off after her.
Who the hell is this girl?
I don't even know her name. It never occurred to me to ask. I'm also fairly sure that I've never seen her around before. Wouldn't I remember a face like that? And she was so tiny… like a... a... a pixie or something small and cute like that. All that blond hair and cool green eyes. I would have definitely remembered seeing someone like her around.
Wouldn't I?
Just as I hit the sliding glass doors, Marissa Sandberg bounces her way directly into my path. Her long auburn curls tumble around her shoulders as she hurtles herself into my arms. She's damn lucky I have quick reflexes or that little gymnastics stunt would have left an ugly mark.
"Parker, I was just coming to find you! And look, here you are!"
She squeals this information as if fate has somehow propelled her straight into my waiting arms when really this is a smallish type house party with about fifty or so people, where the odds of her eventually finding me are in her favor. My eyes dart around the dimly lit kitchen and family room searching for the blond girl I spilled beer on.
No- wait...
The blond girl who slammed into me, making me spill my beer on her. Yes, the fault totally lies with her, not me. In all actuality, I was an innocent bystander in all this.