Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Yeah…yeah they are.”
He wants to say more. I can feel it, and I’m glad he doesn’t. When we’re done eating, I help him with the dishes.
“Bathroom?” I ask, and he tells me where it is. I take a piss, wash my hands, then splash water on my face, before looking at myself in the mirror.
I should go home. He said dinner, and we’ve done that. There’s no reason to stay.
El? She’s been quiet since we got here.
I’m here. He’s nice, East.
I know. That makes it worse, makes me feel worse because he’s nice and I can’t figure out how to accept nice, or how to deserve it.
I like that you’re making friends with him.
I’m a glutton for punishment. Because I know it will hurt when he walks away, and that is something I deserve.
I finish up, then head back into the living room. As soon as I step out of the hallway, I see Archer sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, with both of my dogs around him.
“Daddy will be back soon. He just went to the bathroom. He’s not leaving you. I promise.”
My throat clogs up, my feet rooted to the floor. I don’t know why seeing him love on them, hearing him talk about me, gets inside my head, but I can’t stop watching.
“You’re lucky he found you, Casanova. I’m sure Pretty Girl already told you that.” He bends down, nuzzles Casanova’s neck, and the dog lets him. My heart starts going crazy for reasons I don’t understand. “Be good to him. He deserves it.”
I don’t. I really fucking don’t, but in this moment…I want to believe I do. Want to make Archer feel as good as he’s made me feel, which isn’t something I ever experience.
My brain shuts off, all good sense, if I ever had any, scattering to the wind. I walk over, and Archer looks up at me and smiles. It’s a nice smile, all full lips and kindness.
The dogs scoot out of the way, and I kneel, straddle his lap, take his face in my hands, and drop my mouth to his. I might be a shitty friend, might be terrible with words, but this I can give him. This I want to give him.
He’s stiff for just a moment before his lips soften against mine. I tease his seam with my tongue, and Archer opens for me, lets me inside, hands grabbing my hips, allowing me to explore him. His tongue is tasting me next, and I moan into him, go for his shirt to try and pull it over his head, but the second I reach under it, touch him warm skin to warm skin, Archer pulls back.
He makes a strange sound before his forehead drops to my chest. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
And there it is, what I was expecting to happen all along. Archer realizing he doesn’t want me, that this is too much. I guess I didn’t expect it to happen when I was trying to have sex with him.
“Yeah. You’re right. Don’t know what I was thinking.” I try to climb off him, but his hold on my hips tightens.
“It’s just, we’re friends, and you’re…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence, but then, he doesn’t have to. I’m me. Why the hell would Archer Thorn want to fuck me?
“Whatever. It’s fine. Just bored and hard up. I thought we could blow off some steam together.” I try to get off him again, but he keeps holding me.
My head spins. I’m embarrassed and angry, though not at him. At myself.
“Let me go, Archer.”
“Listen to me for a second and—”
“Let. Me. Go.” I punctuate each word, and his hold on me loosens. He doesn’t fight me as I stand up, and then he does the same. “Pretty Girl, Casanova. Come on. Let’s go.” I head for the door and grab their leashes.
“Easton, will you listen to me for a second?” he asks while I hook the dogs. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea on what this is about.”
This is about me being a fuckup and him trying to fix me. I shouldn’t have forgotten that. The worst part is, I get it. I understand why he wouldn’t want to fuck someone like me. I’m a mess, and all he did was not want to kiss me. He has that right.
But I wanted him…tonight I wanted him, wanted more good feelings, wanted to give him the same thing, and I’m not sure how to process what happened.
I open the door.
“East.”
“I’m fine, Archer.”
I walk down the steps with my dogs.
“Hey, promise me you’re okay. That you’re not going to do anything to get yourself into any trouble.”
And there it is again: I’m a project to Archer, someone he feels he has to take care of, and nothing more. The even more fucked-up part is that I want to let him be there for me, want to be able to lean on him. That’s clear because I’ve let him be there for me so many times now, but somehow, I’ve let that get all crisscrossed in my head. I won’t make that mistake again.