“I’m ready.” Archer takes my hand, lacing his fingers through mine.
“You’re alone in the car and ‘Living on a Prayer’ comes on. What do you do?”
“I turn that shit up and belt it out. Which I’d do even if I wasn’t alone, just to warn you.” He pulls my hand back, bringing me to him. The wind picks up, and I shiver. Archer lets go of my hand to wrap his arms around me. The feeling he gives me can only be described as butterflies, and I haven’t experienced anything like this in years.
“Did I pass the test?”
“Yes,” I tell him. “But things are about to get more intense. “What if ‘Shake it Off’ comes on next?”
“I’m alone?”
“Totally alone. On a country road.”
“Hmmm.” His hands slide up and down my back. I shiver again, but not from the cold. “That song is catchy. I’ll be singing and dancing.”
I laugh, throwing my head back so the wind doesn’t blow my hair into his face. “Do you even know the words?”
“No. I know what song you’re talking about. I think. Maybe? I don’t want to fail your test.”
Hooking my arms around his shoulders, I shuffle closer until my hips brush his. “There was no test. Mostly because I wasn’t keeping score.”
“You put me through all that for nothing?”
“Guilty. What are you going to do about it?”
In a sudden and swift movement, he scoops me up and turns to the river.
“Archer,” I squeal, clinging to him tighter. “Don’t you dare!” We both laugh and his hands linger over my body as he sets me back down. We stand there, close together, both of our hearts pounding. The wind blows my hair again and Archer gathers it in one hand, moving it to the side of my neck.
“Have you decided yet?” His deep voice cuts through the night. He looks into my eyes when he talks and the confidence is sexy on him. It’s not over the top. It’s not hyped up to over-compensate for something. It’s completely genuine and is doing bad things to me right now.
Bad things that would feel so good.
“On what?”
“On whether you want this to be a date or not.”
I bite my lip. “You have to answer one more question first.”
“If your question is if I put out on the first date, I have been known to.”
Laughing, I bring my hands down from his shoulders, splaying my fingers on his chest. An attractive man who can make me laugh…I need to run far, far away. Because as much as I want this to continue, I know it won’t.
It can’t.
“That’s kind of along the lines of my question.”
He wiggles his eyebrows. “I like where this is going. What’s your question?”
“If this is our first date, will you take me out on a second?”
11
Archer
“Yes.” The word leaves my mouth before I have a chance to think about it. Quinn doesn’t say anything, doesn’t react. Her lashes come together in a blink, and she looks at me, almost as if she’s waiting for me to tell her I’m joking.
Then she smiles.
It’s the most beautiful thing in the world. And right now, with her hands on my chest and my arms locked around her waist, I want to kiss her hard and tell her I’d take her on a thousand dates and it wouldn’t be enough.
The moment is over as fast as it started, and I’m sure she’s thinking the same thing I am. She lives in Chicago. I live in Indy. We’re not worlds away, but a four-hour drive makes starting a relationship hard.
I don’t know the next time I’ll be able to get away from work long enough to come see her. It could be weeks before I’m able to drive back up north and take her on a second date.
My heart starts to ache, even though everything I want is right in front of me for the taking. Quinn slides her hands down my torso and around my back. She rests her head on my chest and admires the skyline above us.
This is exactly what I’ve wanted, what I’ve wished for. And now that I had a taste, now that I know how fucking good it feels to finally let my feelings surface, it’s going to hurt. I need to disengage.
“It’s getting late.”
“Yeah,” Quinn agrees, pulling away. Instantly, I miss her touch and the warmth of her skin. “We should head back. If you want to crash on the couch, you can. Do you have to be back at the convention thingy tomorrow?”
“There are a few more panels to sit in on, but I don’t have to be there until nine. It’s the last day and they’ll be done around two.”
“That was a short convention.”
“It started earlier in the week, but I couldn’t get off work.”
She clasps her hands on her elbows, holding her arms in tightly against her body to stay warm. Not pulling her close goes against every fiber of my being, like I’m wired to do everything and anything to make her comfortable.
“Do you like being a surgeon?”
“I do. I better, right? I’ve put enough into it.”
“Yeah. You’d have wasted a lot of time if not.”
We go a few paces without talking, and I hate how much the dynamic changed between us. It’s because of me, and Quinn has to fucking know it. A gust of wind blows in off the lakefront. It’s cold, chilling me and I’m in long sleeves and pants.
I can’t help it. My arm wraps around Quinn and the moment we connect, I relax.
“Do you want my shirt?”
“Then you’ll be half-naked.”
“I have an undershirt,” I remind her. “I should have worn the suit jacket just so I could give it to you.”
She tries not to smile. “That would have been very gentlemanly. Though you’d think I’d learn to dress for the weather. I have lived here for quite some time. When the wind blows over the lake, it’s always cold.”
Not wanting to make her walk in the cold, I hail a cab. There’s not much traffic this time of night, and we get back to the loft quickly.
“You really can stay,” she says again, taking off her shoes. I don’t move out of the entryway. I shouldn’t stay though I want to. “Or you can call an Uber to take you back to your hotel.”
I pull my phone from my pocket and see that it’s dead. Quinn says she has an extra charger and that I shouldn’t leave until my phone has some battery life in case I need to make an emergency call. She reminds me of her mother there, and it’s more endearing than I thought it’d be. She goes into her room to get the charger. I step out of my shoes and sit in the living room, looking around at the decor. The stark modernity of the space isn’t something I’d guess Quinn would have gone for, but the view is amazing and she’s close to her office. She’s done a good job making this large, white space look homey and feel cozy.
Everything is so Quinn, tasteful yet a little quirky.
“Here ya go.” She comes back into the living room, holding a phone cord, and crouches down next to the couch to plug it into the wall. Then she takes my phone from me and hooks it up.
She takes a step back and crosses her arms over her body again. I hate that she feels like she has to physically guard herself from me. Hurting her is the last thing I want to do, which is exactly why we need to stop this before it starts. “I’m going to get some water. Do you want some?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
I watch her go into the kitchen, cats following her in hopes of more food. Her dress hugs her curves in all the right places. It’s loose around her legs, hiding her tight ass until she moves and the outline can be seen through the thin fabric. The neckline of her dress goes to a deep-V, tight against her tits.
She moves her hair over her shoulder and picks up the cats’ water bowl, rinsing it out and filling it up before she grabs two water bottles from the fridge and comes back to the couch. Taking a long drink, she recaps her water and sits back with a sigh.
I thought she was a little drunk before. Nothing like pulling a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde to make a girl sober up.
My phone buzzes back to life,
beeping from a missed text. I glance over, curious to see who it’s from but not really interested in opening it. Then I see it’s from my mom. There’s only one reason she’d text me this late. I put the water bottle on the coffee table and turn away from Quinn to unlock my phone.
My heart speeds up and I try to prepare myself for the worst. I always do. Because someday, the worst will happen.
Mom: Bobby passed out. We just got to the hospital. I tried calling you, but it went straight to voicemail. I hate leaving you messages like this, but I wanted to tell you in case…you know. I’ll update you when I can.
The next text was sent sometime later.
Mom: It’s his kidneys again, and they’re putting him on some new medication. We’ll be home in the morning. Don’t worry about calling tonight. We’re all exhausted and I know how hard you’ve been working. We’re proud of you, Archie. Love you.
“Archer?” Quinn’s voice is as soft as her touch. Her hand lands on my arm. “Is everything okay?”
I read the text again. One of these times, medical intervention isn’t going to be enough. One of these times, my brother is going to take it so far there’s no coming back. Years of drug use have already taken their toll on his body, and he’s only a year and a half older than me.
“Is everything okay?” she asks again.
I put my phone down, shifting my gaze from the bright screen to Quinn’s beautiful face.
“It will be.”
She pushes her hair back and nods. “Are you tired?” she asks carefully, and I read between the lines. She’s wondering if I’m going to stay or go, though I can’t tell what she’s hoping for.
“Not really.”