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)
I frown, unsure what he’s talking about.
“Here. I’ll show you.” Archer gets his phone and brings up the model kits. “These are some of the ones I’ve done.”
They’re incredibly detailed. They must have hundreds, if not thousands of little pieces. I can’t imagine the number of hours it takes to do one. “Those are really cool.” It’s not something I’ve seen, or if I have, nothing I’ve taken notice of before.
He nudges me with his arm. “We can do one together sometime…and then you can draw me.”
“Yeah? Considering you didn’t have fucking me on your list of things you do for fun, I wasn’t sure you were interested in me seeing you naked again.”
The smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth is so damn wide, so happy, it makes my heart stumble that I’m the one who put it there. How can me joking with him make Archer feel this way?
“It’s top of the list.”
“Now I get a pity mention.”
We continue to joke around in this weird, comfortable way that is so foreign to me. I don’t do this with anyone, and I don’t know why I’m not stopping myself from doing it with Archer.
It’s not long before Pretty Girl comes over, letting me know she has to go out. I nuzzle her neck, giving her some love, as I see Casanova nudge Archer’s hand, wanting to be petted too.
They like him. Pretty Girl likes everyone, but Casanova has immediately felt comfortable with him, and that thought has my chest feeling too full.
When I get up and pull my pants on, Archer does the same. We go outside together, the floodlights around my property illuminating the way.
The dogs do their business, Archer and I standing there, shoulder to shoulder, looking out at the dark forest around us.
“Why are you here?” I find myself asking. “You can’t save me, Archer.”
“I’m not trying to save you. And I’m here because I like you.”
“Why?” What is it about me that’s likable to him? I can’t wrap my head around it.
“Because you’re the type of man who tried to protect a woman you didn’t even know. Because you’re good to animals, saving the ones no one else wants. Because you’re kind, which is sexy, but at the same time, you’re an asshole, which we all know is sexy.”
Damn him. I grin.
“You’re funny when you let yourself be. There’s a lot to like about you, Easton Swift, and I don’t plan to stop telling you until you believe it.”
And I don’t want him to. Holy fuck, I don’t want him to stop, and I can’t figure out how to make sense of that.
“I went to see Rhett today. You don’t get it, the degree to which my family is fucked up, but like I said…I went to see Rhett today. I wouldn’t have done that a month ago. A year ago.” I’m not sure why I’m telling him this, or what it means. Maybe it’s just to show Archer that I’m trying. That something about spending time with him makes me want to be better.
He cups my cheek and turns my head so I face him. Part of me believes it makes me weak when he treats me this way, but then, a growing part of me doesn’t believe that at all. Somehow, it makes me feel strong.
“You are such a good fucking boy, East. I hope one day you’ll be ready to trust me with the rest of it, the things I don’t know. And when you are, I’ll be here.” He drops his mouth against mine, and I let him, feel his tongue push between my lips, take me over, like he belongs there.
“You wanna stay tonight?” I ask when he pulls back. Please don’t let me have a nightmare.
“Yeah, I do. And we should talk about this…what we’re doing.”
“No. I can’t. No talking about it. Nothing public. Let’s just do it. That’s all I can handle right now.” I hold my breath, waiting for him to tell me to fuck off, that it’s not good enough, that there’s something wrong with me.
“For now. But I’m not hiding that we’re friends. And if it keeps going, eventually we gotta talk about it, East. And I want it to keep going.”
Damned if I don’t as well.
The dogs come in, and Archer follows me inside. I hear him lock the door as I make my way to the couch. I wring my hands nervously.
“Want to watch a show or something first?” Archer asks.
I nod, and Archer grabs the remote. We settle on a show about a CIA agent, but I can’t stop my hands from needing to be busy.
El?
You’re fine, East. Just enjoy your night.
My own consciousness doesn’t want to give me advice tonight.
Without thinking about it, I reach over, grab a small square of paper from the stacks I keep all over my house, and start to fold. It’s not until Archer says, “Hey, is that a butterfly?” that I realize I’m folding butterflies in front of him. I have thousands of them, something I do when I need to keep my hands busy, but I don’t fold them in front of anyone. “Jesus, you did that without even giving it much thought. Like your fingers just know exactly what to do.”