“He’s going to be so happy,” she says as she hands over her phone with the camera activated, making it clear she wants me to take a picture of just myself.
“Take one with her,” Brooks urges.
The woman chuckles, patting her blue-gray curls as if she needs to preen a little.
I step in closer to her, watching her eyes in the image on her phone when I hold it up. She’s radiant and happy.
“Smile,” I say, and we both do.
I find that it takes mine a long time to fade even after walking away from her.
Chapter 9
Brooks
I sigh, letting the air rush from my lungs as I sit and wait on Archer’s couch.
I could’ve easily gone upstairs to let him know that I was here, but I’ve avoided his bedroom since that very first day. I’ve also avoided anything having to do with the upstairs since that one-sided kiss, determining that there’s something in the air up there that makes the man act out.
As I watch the tree limbs swaying in the wind out the front window, I think back to the times we’ve been together in public and how reluctant Archer has been to pull away from me. The man is like a lost puppy begging for attention, and I’ve done nothing to stop it.
I could tell myself that pulling away from him while we’re in public could be the image that ends up on the front page of a tabloid, but that’s not the reason.
At the same time, I can’t wrap my head around just how good the man feels when he’s tucked in close.
I thought I was going to have to get nasty with the old lady in the grocery store or track down her grandson if he so much as uttered one negative thing about Archer.
It wouldn’t have been very professional, but I don’t know that I could’ve stopped myself.
I’ve wondered more than once about his real smile. That day I saw it and noticed the way his eyes wrinkle in the corners when he’s truly happy. I saw none of that in the hundreds of photos I saw online while trying to figure out when in his career he started using drugs.
In that moment, all of his sadness, loneliness, and self-loathing was gone.
I still feel guilt for jumping to those conclusions.
Caffeine is the only vice the man has, and I can’t say a word about it because I, too, share the very same addiction.
Movement to the side of me catches my eyes, but the last thing I expect to see is Archer walking through the room completely naked.
I clear my throat, making him jump.
“Jesus! I didn’t know you were here.”
Those are the words he uses, but the gleam in his eyes proves he’s a damn liar.
I don’t say a word as I try to maintain eye contact with the man, rather than dropping my gaze lower, but even in my peripheral vision, I can see his once limp cock starting to thicken.
He’s desperate for attention, even if it means getting yelled at or insulted, and I find more sorrow in that than real irritation.
If I take a closer look—at the situation, not his actual body—it’s easy to see the man is starved for it. I don’t think it’s because he’s used to being on stage and the center of everyone’s focus. I think it goes deeper than that, maybe from his childhood. Were his parents assholes and neglectful?
“You knew I was here,” I challenge, my eyes locked on his.
I can see his hand start to twitch as if he’s fighting the urge to grab his now fully erect dick.
“Just because I gave you the code to unlock the door doesn’t mean I expect you to be here at all times.”
“You called a meeting.”
“There’s been a miscommunication.”
“Pam doesn’t make scheduling mistakes. She’s very meticulous.”
“Are you just going to sit there?”
“As opposed to what?”
I swear if he says anything about getting on my knees, I won’t be responsible for how I respond.
He continues to stare at me.
“If I’m not needed, then I’ll go,” I say, pushing my knuckles into the sofa to stand.
Before I can get to my feet, Archer bites the inside of his cheek as if he’s trying not to smile as he crosses the room and gets closer to me.
I anticipate him coming to stand directly in front of me, and if he does, that’s going to put his cock right at face level.
I drop back down to the couch, crossing my arms over my chest because I see the challenge in his eyes. I have no idea why he keeps doing shit like this, but he’s expecting me to bolt from the room. He has a thing or two to learn about me if that’s the case.
Archer drops down onto the couch across from the one I’m sitting on, his cock waving in the air with the motion. I’m not the best judge, but as cocks go, his is pretty decent, I guess—thickly veined and topped with a dark pink crown. Nothing to be ashamed of.