Jesus Christ. I swallowed dryly. My head started pounding from sensory overload—too much information, too many emotions.
I clenched my jaw. “There’s that pipe dream again.”
He shrugged and brushed his fingers along my knuckles. “I’ll always have dreams. I’ll always want to serve you.”
I didn’t understand how he could be so sure. How he could throw those words around so easily.
“Do you even know what you’re saying?”
“Yes.” His eyes flashed with determination, and he took a tiny step closer to me. “I don’t believe in love at first sight, Greer. I’m not looking for magical fixes or perfection. I don’t think two people can be absolutely everything to each other, but I believe in giving us a chance. I believe in throw-caution-to-the-wind, go-all-in, let’s-just-fucking-try, because I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop picturing what we could be. My fantasies of wanting to serve you don’t stem from what gets me off or how hot I find you—they’re actual needs, and they’ve centered around you since the day I understood what they were— Wait. Where are you going?”
I had to breathe. I stepped away from him and opened the front door to let in some air, and then I slumped down on the couch and leaned forward with my elbows on my knees.
“Pump the brakes, Archie. I need a minute.” I drew in a deep breath and closed my eyes.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “I’m running like a freight train here. I’m sorry, Greer. Maybe it’s best I leave? I’ve overwhelmed you enough.”
I shook my head without looking up. “No, for some reason, I need you to stay. Just gimme a moment.”
I cracked my knuckles absently, feeling my skin prickle, almost like when my leg fell asleep.
The pressure kept building in my head, and I had a million things to say, but each word eluded me. It was too much. He was right; I was overwhelmed, and yet…I fucking knew what I wanted. I was just scared shitless to accept that this could be happening.
A chance didn’t have to be a big leap. As annoying as it was, Archie was right on the money about our connection, our chemistry, and, evidently, our dreams. Was I gonna let a crossed line get in the way of my chance at happiness? I wasn’t exactly dancing on the grave of Archie and Angelo’s failed relationship. It’d been five damn years. Could I be allowed to let all that go? Because fuck if I didn’t ache for it now.
Fuck—why couldn’t I get rid of the tension? My shoulders felt rigid and uncomfortable. My thighs too. I couldn’t relax. In fact, it was getting worse. Maybe I had to go out. Punch something or…
“Can I try something, Sir?”
“What?” I muttered.
I heard him take a big breath as he shuffled closer, and then he dropped a hand to my shoulder and gently nudged me back.
Hell no.
Don’t.
I clenched my jaw, wondering why the fuck I let him do this to me. My back hit the cushion behind me, and I stared up at him.
It stunned me that I could be both angry and amazed by him. The last words I’d spoken to him before today had been…ruthless. And now, here he was, taking every initiative, getting back up when I knocked him down.
He planted his knees on either side of me and his ass on my thighs, and then he just leaned forward and wrapped his arms around my neck. Fucking hell, had he talked to Sloan or something? What was it with them? You didn’t force affection on a lonely man, because he might break when the affection disappeared.
Archie did the same thing Sloan had done. He touched me soothingly, brushing his fingers across my neck and shoulders.
The close proximity pressed my forehead to the curve of his neck, and it was impossible not to get assaulted by his scent with every breath.
I screwed my eyes shut.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me,” he murmured. “I’ve missed you, Sergeant.”
He was killing me.
And I was losing my fight. Whether I wanted to or not, I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him closer, flush to my body, and squeezed him tightly. I felt his shudder. I felt my own. He tightened his hold. I did the same. And the tension started fading, much like it had the other day with Sloan.
Archie sniffled. “I desperately want to believe in my pipe dream, Greer.”
Me too.
Fuck, but I did.
It was my decision, wasn’t it?
It was up to me.
What the fuck was I waiting for?
I slipped my hands away from his back and up to his face instead, and I forced him to inch back. I cupped his jaw and pressed our foreheads together. His breaths turned shaky. I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes to see.
Part of me wanted to warn him. If he ever hurt me like that again… Christ. But I didn’t say anything. It felt bizarre. It’d been a fucked-up situation. He hadn’t wanted to hurt me. If anything, he’d put me first; he’d put me above the man he’d been with for several years. He hadn’t known I was Angelo’s friend.