You Belong With Me (With Me in Seattle 14)

“Holy shit, how did I sleep so long?”

“Exhaustion will do that to you,” Archer says as I stretch my sore neck. “I tried to wake you when I stopped for gas, but you were out cold.”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t help with the driving,” I murmur but realize he’s already left the car and is rounding the hood to open my door.

I’m totally out of it.

“Come on.” He holds out his hand for mine and then tugs me out of the car. He has my duffle bag in his other hand and guides me to the door.

Archer has always taken care of me. He’s the kind of guy who fills your car with gas and makes sure you’re fed. He always used to ask me if I was cold and offer me his sweatshirt.

I still have one of them. And I’m not sorry for never giving it back.

I unlock the door, and we walk inside, turning on the lights as we go.

“Are you headed back to Seattle tonight?” I ask.

“No.”

I frown as he sets my duffle bag down and then turns and walks back outside. Before I can look out the window to see what he’s doing, he walks back in with a bag of his own, shuts and locks the door, and turns back to me.

“Do you want me on the couch?”

“You’re staying?”

“For as long as you’ll let me,” he confirms.

I sigh. “We clearly have a lot to talk about.”

“Agreed. And it’s not going to happen tonight. We’re both exhausted, E. Let’s get some sleep. We can talk tomorrow.”

“I really should go to work in the morning.”

Archer checks his watch. “It’s already the morning. Just past midnight. You only took one day off, and you told them you’d be gone for a few days. Take one more day to rest up, Elena.”

“I hate it when you’re right.”

He grins.

“So, am I on the couch?”

“It’s too small for you,” I reply, eyeing his broad shoulders and long, lean body. He grew a couple of additional inches after we broke up. “I don’t mind sharing the bed.”

He nods, and I lead the way upstairs. Despite a six-hour nap, I feel like I could sleep for another twelve.

“Why am I so tired?”

“You had a pretty wild twenty-four hours,” he reminds me. “The adrenaline of not wanting to be recognized, the grief of the funeral. All of it. It’s intense, and your body is ready to rest.”

“You’re not kidding.”

“Can I use your shower?”

“You can use whatever you like,” I reply as I shuck out of my shoes and stand in the middle of the room. “I usually sleep naked, but that probably won’t work tonight.”

“Not if you want me to keep my hands to myself.”

I glance at him. “Not keeping your hands to yourself will only complicate things. So, I’ll find something to sleep in.”

“We’re as complicated as it gets, honey.” He kisses my forehead. “Go to sleep. I’m gonna wash up. I’ll be back in a few.”

I nod and watch him walk back down the stairs before I turn to my small dresser and forage for an old tank top and a fresh pair of panties.

I love having Archer here. And that’s a problem. I can’t get used to it. I can’t just fall into his arms because that’s where I feel safe. Because it feels good. I have to be smarter than that. He’ll be gone soon, and I’ll be left alone all over again.

I can’t get used to him.

I hear the water running in the shower as I decide to quickly change the sheets on the bed. Sleeping in fresh bedding is the best. Not that I won’t sleep like the dead anyway.

I’ve just slipped the cases on the pillows and slid between the sheets when Archer walks up the stairs.

“You must be tired,” I say, watching in rapt fascination as a mostly naked Archer walks around my little loft-slash-bedroom. He’s a big man, making the room feel even smaller than it is. And holy hell in a handbasket, his body has only improved with age.

He was something to write home about when he was twenty. At thirty-two? He’s ridiculous.

It’s definitely good that I’m wearing clothes. And that I’m so tired.

Okay, maybe I’m not that weary.

I shake my head and push my hand through my hair. Pull it together, Elena.

I mean, Ally.

I’m Ally.

Archer slips into bed next to me and reaches over to extinguish the light. In the darkness, we lie down, and my eyes instantly close. I’ve always felt safe here in my little cottage.

And now, with Archer here, as well, I feel protected. It’s amazing.

And fleeting.Chapter 4~Carmine~“I’m telling you, she was there,” I repeat and lean over my father’s desk, staring him in the eyes. “Elena attended Grandmother’s funeral.”

The thought still cuts me to the core.

“And why didn’t you say something then?” Pop asks.