Office Explorations

Hannah

When I got home, I noticed I had a few missed texts from both Tatum and Parker. I wasn’t sure how to respond to them.

Tatum

how was the class?

Parker

you bring me home any food?

I responded to Parker with a picture I’d taken while we were cooking.

Parker

omg. That’s like food porn

Hannah

if you’re nice, I’ll give you the leftovers.

Parker

I’m always nice. Be there in 5

Hannah

😘

I dropped my bag by the front door and pulled out a skillet, transferring the last chicken leg to it and turning it to medium. The least I could do was pretend I was feeding Parker a fresh-from-the-pan meal.

“Oh my God, this smells amazing,” he called out from the front door as I slipped off my shoes and found my slippers. My feet always ached if I stood in heels too long.

Tatum

did you two get kidnapped? Jordan isn’t responding either. Are you two doing it already?

The laughter at that one couldn’t be held in, but sadly... no... we weren’t doing it.

Hannah

not quite. Just got home. Parker is devouring my leftovers.

Tatum

no fair! What did you guys make?

Hannah

braised chicken and cauliflower risotto

Tatum

🤤

I finished wiping off my face so I could go find out why Parker was suspiciously quiet.

When I walked into the kitchen, he was bent over a plate on my kitchen counter with his eyes closed, chicken leg in his hand.

“You could use a knife and a fork, piglet,” I teased.

His eyes flashed to mine, and he continued eating the chicken with his hands. He was such a guy sometimes.

“Dude,” he exclaimed with his mouth full. “Your team had the best coach, hands down. He really knew what he was doing planning these team events.”

“Maybe that’s why his winning streak has gone on so long. A happy team is a winning team.”

“Mallory and Ty really need to take some pointers. Our events were meh,” he said sourly.

I poured myself a big glass of water and drank it slowly while I watched him devour the food. It really was good.

“So how many people ended up showing?” he asked between bites. “It looked like a ton of people showed up for the rock climbing.”

“Well…”

“Uh-oh, you look guilty. Spill it.” He grinned. Parker loved some good gossip.

“There were supposed to be eight of us,” I said hesitantly. It had been true at one point...

“Decent numbers.”

“It would have been.”

“Ooh, do tell,” he said, looking up excitedly. He could tell there was more to the story.

“But no one else showed up,” I continued.

He rinsed off his plate and the skillet, placing his dishes into the dishwasher. At least he wasn’t too much of a slob.

“Like you were by yourself... or?” he asked.

“No, definitely not by myself,” I shook my head, and his eyes lit up.

“Damn. Private cooking class with Coach J. How did that go?”

“It was...” I sighed as I remembered the look of intense concentration on his face while he diced up the shallots and how he kept finding excuses to touch me.

“Did he make a move?”

“A little bit,” I admitted with a shy grin.

“Yasss!” He cheered as he did a little hip thrust. “So, did you two do it in the car in the parking lot?”

“Oh my God, you pervert. No, I wasn’t doing it in my car.”

“Or his car.” He laughed. “Does he have a spacious back seat? Are other things big?”

“Shut up, you doofus.” I shook my head as his eyebrows wiggled. My cheeks turned a little pink as I recalled what had happened in that parking lot.

“Well, something obviously happened.”

“Maybe…” I teased.

“I will tickle it out of you if I have to.”

Fending him off with my outstretched hands, I told him about how he had flirted the entire class, giving me much more than platonic touches.

“Then he insisted on walking me to my car... since it was dark,” I finished.

“Yeah, I’m sure that was the only reason why,” he scoffed with an eye roll.

“He was being a gentleman.”

“Who wants to get into your pants,” he shot back.

“Well, he didn’t.”

“Yet,” Parker teased. “So…”

“He kissed me,” I blurted out nervously.

“What kind of kiss?” Parker asked with an enormous grin on his face.

“A ~real~ kiss.”

“No, like ‘I wanna rip your clothes off’ or ‘I wanna court you like it’s the nineteenth century’?” he laughed as he mimed ripping something and then adjusting fake lapels on his chest.

“Somewhere in between? I don’t know. There was tongue,” I told him quietly, my face a fiery red.

“How much tongue?”

“A little,” I said honestly, recalling the feeling of Jordan’s mouth and tongue on mine. My heart raced in response. “It was a nice first kiss. Hot, but not too hot.”

“Dude needs to up his game.” He shook his head. “I’m disappointed.”

“What? Why?”

“He obviously didn’t do it right if you’re calling it nice.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, bite me.” I rolled my eyes.

“Eh, I’ll let the coach do that.” He laughed.

“Don’t rain on my post-kiss afterglow,” I warned him. “Go home, you mooch.”

He kissed me on the cheek and went home, leaving me to my thoughts. I didn’t care what he said, I’d enjoyed the evening, and I wouldn’t let Parker spoil it.