Magnolia Parks: Chapter 49

Parks isn’t into it. The whole dating us both thing. Could tell the whole ride over. She looked nervous. Nervous about what the papers would say about her, because they’re not always nice.

She’s either their darling or their slut and there’s no telling which she’ll be on which day.

On a good day she could walk in straddling one of us and kissing the other and they’d call her progressive but when they want to, they’ll fault her on everything, shred her to pieces, write things about her that makes her cry in my arms like she’s been bullied in the school yard.

I walked in arm in arm with Bushka, half for Parks’ sake, half because the old girl’s a good time—she’s always got a flask on her, she had a crack at David Beckham, she’s out-drunk Jonah twice, made a Nazi joke to the German ambassador at the last gala they brought her to. The woman’s an absolute loose cannon.

Plus, I can see Magnolia’s heart going mush as she watches me with her grandma, which isn’t why I’m doing it, but it’s sort of the cherry on top.

Once we’re inside, Parks darts away from us at the speed of light. She says it’s because she spotted Kate Middleton—

“Really put all my eggs in the wrong basket, bonding with Meghan Markle, didn’t I?” She shakes her head. “Now I’ve got to go and butter up the Duchess of Cambridge—”

“I’m friends with Wills,” Tom calls after her.

She stops, turns, rolls her eyes. “Of course you are.”

“I’m the love of your life,” I remind her. Our eyes catch—does her best not to smile at me for that one.

“—Can’t believe they left the monarchy. What a terrible day for everybody. Me in particular,” Magnolia mutters under her breath, walking away. “And Lilibet, probably.”

An afterthought.

I look over at Tom, who’s watching the girl I love like he might love her too.

“Well, fuck,” I sigh.

He looks at me and laughs. “Yeah.”

I nod my chin at Parks. “She’s struggling—”

He looks over at her again, looking for whatever it is that I can see. It’s got to be shit for him… to want to see it but not being able to spot it because I don’t think you can see it with your eyes.

I can see it in how the butterflies flap in the halo over her head, in the way the light reflects off her thoughts, the way that willow tree shudders—

“Yeah?” Tom says, not looking away from her.

I nod. “She’s avoiding us.”

“I mean”—he gives me a look—“it’s pretty weird.”

I look over at him and sniff a laugh. “Is it?” Tom looks at me strangely. I shake my head “Yeah, I guess it’s weird.” I shrug. “Feels kind of normal to me.”

“That’s pretty fucked up,” he tells me.

His mouth pulls like he’s sorry for me, but I don’t fucking want him to be sorry for me. I’ve had her for all my life, she’s mine, I fucked it up and now I have her like she’ll let me. I don’t need his pity. I don’t even need his understanding. Just need her.

I watch her, the girl of my dreams, love of my life, alpha, omega, beginning and end, ’til death do us part and even then I’m still hanging on—and all I say is, “Yeah.”

“She’s put you through the ringer,” Tom tells me.

I consider this, frown a bit as I do. “I dunno—I can never tell if we’re dancing in a burning room or taking turns dragging the other unconscious up a mountain.”

Tom sniffs a laugh, looks at me like I’m crazy. “Both pretty shit to be honest, man—”

“Yeah,” I concede as I stare over at her. “One ends with a pretty good view though—”

Tom watches me closer than I want him to. He’s got an intense stare. I think it’s worse because his eyes are so blue. Sounds dreamy, but I don’t know—aggressively blue, you could say?

He’s just watching me, nearly frowning but not at me.

“You two are something else.” He shakes his head. “It’s weird.”

We are, I know. All I do is give him a nod and a shrug.

He’s watching her, eye pinched. “You think she does it to everyone?”

“Does what?”

He shrugs. “Makes them feel like they’re—I don’t know? The sun.”

I feel bad for him. He’s still new to her. New to watching other men around her and Parks not even knowing she’s the focus of everyone in the room.

This little ray of sunshine even when she’s acting like a solid git.

“It’s nearly intimidating the bond you have.” He looks back at me.

I sniff. “Just nearly?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I can’t have the whole story, and I refuse to be intimidated by something I don’t fully understand.” I nod a couple of times. Fair enough. “Your chemistry though—” He gives me a look and I wonder why he’s here still.

Forget the metaphors about the jumper cables and the sparks, we’re all of them and none of them—Parks and me. It’s in the fucking stars.

“It’s a lot,” Tom says and nods.

“Not intimidating enough to keep you away though.” I give him a look.

“Yeah.” He pauses. “It’s that gunpowder fire thing from Shakespeare. Your chemistry is what makes you—no doubt, man. It’s unparalleled.” Pause. “It’s maybe what’ll kill you though.”

And I fucking hate this shit because that wasn’t a threat. He’s not being an arrogant son of a bitch; he’s just thinking out loud. Sitting there shooting the shit all sage and shit and I fucking hate him, because sometimes I worry maybe he’s right.

“Hey.” Tom elbows me. “We were fucking around with you before—”

I purse my mouth. Nod.

“I’d wondered with the dropping her off to me with the Harley shit—”

Tom shakes his head. “No, I already liked her by then—but she didn’t need me.” Shrugs. “She needed you.”

“What the fuck?” I frown. “You’re so annoying.” Likes her and drops her to me anyway because I’m what she needs? “How are you this fucking chill, man?”

Tom sniffs a laugh. “I’m not.” He glances at me for a sec, then looks away. “I watched you hurt her in that club, thought I could help her level the playing field. But now I think I’m a bit in love with her—”

I nod, getting it. “She has that effect on people”

“I know,” he says, solemn. “I’m sorry.”

I clock him. “For what?”

“Because I like you, man.” He smacks me on the back. “But if I have a shot here, I’m taking it.”

I give him a look. “Same, bro.”

Tom nods—glances at me, a bit nervous. “She doesn’t know.”

I sink my Negroni. “Know what?”

“That I love her.”

“Ah.” I nod.

Lock my mouth up, put the key in his lapel pocket.

He smacks me on the back.

“Good man.” And then he slides me over my drink, raising his.

“May the best man win.”

I snort and shake my head.

“Nah, bro—fuck the pilot. I’m pulling for the obviously worst man—he’s real fucked up but a heart of gold.”

Tom laughs and so do I.

Stings though, I think because we both know it’s true.

17:41

Tom

Are you sure you don’t want to come to Julian’s birthday?

I’m sure.

It’ll be fun…

Nah, I’m too old for clubs and shit.

Actually, I think you and Jules are the same age.

‘Jules’ now is it.

We’re old friends.

Hah. Okay.

Also, you and I met in a club like 5 months ago, so—

Actually, we met at The Queen’s Cup when you were 7. I was 16. You’ve been a real hanger on.

Come?

No, I’m good.

Have fun x

❤️❤️❤️❤️