Chapter 141

Chapter 141
Chole's POV:

Parker guided me to the passenger side, stuffed me into the leather seat, and buckled my seatbelt.

I blinked at him, stunned. "Did I just get evicted?"

Parker rubbed his nose, hiding a smirk. "Technically, yes."

"What the hell?" I shouted.

I reached for the door handle. "No way. I need to go back in there. Why is Maya kicking me out? We had a deal."

Parker grabbed my wrist. His grip was firm. "Let it go."

"How can I let it go? I’m offended. She said I could stay until Adam came back. Is the deal off?"

Parker coughed lightly. "It’s not about the deal. It’s... well, it’s us. We’re being too sweet. Maya couldn't stomach it anymore."

It made sense. Adam was away on a business trip, so watching us be all lovey-dovey must be torture for her.

"Fine," I sighed. "I guess I’ll go back to my place."

My car was parked in the driveway behind Maya’s. "I’ll drive myself."

I tried to get out, but Parker grabbed my arm again, pulling me back into the seat. "Ride with me. We’re going to the same place in the morning anyway."

I looked at him, arching a brow. I hooked a finger under his chin, tilting it up. "What are you plotting, pretty boy?"

Parker didn't answer. Instead, he caught my hand and brought it to his lips, grazing his mouth against my knuckles. His eyes darkened, locking onto mine with a heavy, heated gaze.

Heat rushed through me instantly. I hated to admit it, but the kid had moves. One look, one touch, and my knees felt weak.

Parker started the engine. I didn't try to leave again.



He pulled into the garage of a glass high-rise and led me into the elevator. When the doors opened, we stepped directly into a massive penthouse.

"Do you run laps in here?" I asked, dropping my purse on the kitchen island. "This place is ridiculous."

"Cancel your lease," Parker said casually. He hauled my suitcase inside and opened a shoe cabinet near the door. He pulled out a pair of fuzzy, cream-colored women's slippers. "Move in with me."

I froze. I stared at the slippers, my eyes narrowing. "Do you bring women back here often?"

Parker paused. "You’re the second one."

"Who was the first?"

"My mother."

I stared at him. "You’re lying."

"My mom visits occasionally. She hates walking on the hardwood, so she bought these."

I pressed my lips together, fighting a smile. A ridiculous wave of relief washed over me. Was I actually getting possessive?

The shift in our relationship had happened fast. It started that night last week.

I had come home from work exhausted. Parker was standing at my door with two grocery bags.

"Ma'am," he had said. "We closed a big project today. My dad actually praised me. I figured you deserved half the credit, so I’m cooking for you."

Since our kiss in the office, he had stopped calling me "Secretary Vance" in private. He switched to "Ma'am," and the way he said it made my skin tingle. I let him in.

I showered and lay on the sofa, watching him cook. A man who could cook was dangerous. He looked good in my small kitchen.

When he served the food, it was perfect. "Eat," he ordered.

I walked over in my slippers. The table was full of food. It smelled amazing. I couldn't cook to save my life, but Parker was like a chef.

He produced a bottle of red wine from somewhere. "Drink?"

I nodded.

He poured two glasses. "Cheers."

I took a sip. It was smooth.

We kept drinking. The alcohol hit me hard. Parker kept smiling at me, looking handsome and dangerous. I lost my head. I stood up and practically threw myself at him.

Parker caught me easily, his hands steadying my waist. "Ma'am, what do you think you're doing?"

I hummed, cupping his chin in my hand. My vision was a pleasant blur. "You know, kid... you didn't have to get me drunk. I have zero resistance to you anyway."

He let my hands roam over his face, his gaze darkening. "You’re such a liar when you're sober. You want this, but you never admit it."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down. "Shut up. Are you taking me to bed or not?"

Parker stared at me, deadpan. "No. I haven't washed the dishes."

I kissed him, messy and hard. "Screw the dishes. Wash them tomorrow."

He laughed, a low rumble in his chest, and swept me off my feet.

The next morning, I woke up touching his abs. I panicked. I remembered my bold moves from the night before and wanted to die. I had promised myself no more entanglements.

Parker sat up slowly. "You started it."

I burried my face in my hands. "I was drunk. You could have refused me."

"Rejecting a girl is cruel," he drawled. "I couldn't do it."

"So you’d sleep with anyone who threw themselves at you?"

"Of course not. I only have a soft spot for you."

I looked away, my heart pounding.

He got out of bed, completely naked, and walked to the bathroom without an ounce of shame. I peeked through my fingers at his perfect back muscles.



After that night, Parker was relentless. When I moved to Maya’s place to clear my head, he followed me there. We kissed on the porch. I stopped fighting it. Self-torture was exhausting. Parker was here, he was gorgeous, and he wanted me. Why refuse?

Back in the penthouse, I wandered around. The view of the harbor was incredible.

Parker wrapped his arms around me from behind. "Chole, you didn't answer me."

"What?"

"Move in."

"No."

"Come on. Look at this place. It’s huge. I get lonely."

I laughed. "Don't give me that."

"I’m serious. Move in. You can look at a handsome guy every day. And the handsome guy will cook for you."

"The cooking part is tempting," I admitted.

"Am I not tempting in bed?" he whispered against my ear. "You said you had no resistance."

I blushed. Drunk Chloe was too honest.

"Come see the bedroom." He pulled me down the hall.

The master bedroom was massive, decorated in grey and white. I picked up a photo frame from the nightstand. It was a solo shot of Parker on a snowy mountain, bundled in gear.

Suddenly, the floor disappeared. Parker scooped me up into his arms.

I grabbed his neck. "What are you doing?"

His eyes burned. "Taking you to shower."

I knew exactly what he meant. I didn't fight him. The atmosphere in the new apartment was different. I felt light, floaty.

Later, in the dark, Parker whispered in my ear. "Ma'am, move in. Okay? If you move in, you get this every day."

I nodded blindly into the pillow.



The next morning, Parker was practically pushing me out the door.

"Cancel the lease today," he ordered.

I leaned on my hand, watching him. "What if your mom comes over? What if she walks in on me?"

"I changed the passcode," Parker said, fixing his tie. "She can't get in."

"She’ll knock."

"Then I’ll introduce you. 'Mom, this is my girlfriend.' She’s cool."