14. Archer

Chapter 14

Archer

I wander into my bedroom, naked except for a towel wrapped around my waist. I haven't done a great job of drying my hair, so beads of water drip down my face and neck. Has Jacob texted? It's pathetic, but getting a text from him brightens my day. Not that today's been a bad day. I worked an afternoon into early evening shift at the bar, so now I have the rest of the evening to myself. I've got an invite to go clubbing with friends, but if a night of snuggling with Jacob is on offer, that would be my first choice. Where's my phone?

Frowning, I glance around my bedroom. I'm sure I left my phone on its charging mat while I showered. Did I knock it onto the floor? I look under my dresser and bed. Nope. No phone. Did I toss it onto my bed? I check under the pillows, lift and shake my duvet. No phone. Huh. Weird. Where have I been since I got home?

I search the kitchen. No phone. The bathroom. No phone. Which leaves my lounge. I push the door open and step inside.

Mum is sitting on my sofa. She looks up and smiles. "Oh, hi, love."

"What are you doing here?" I hold my towel. The last thing I need is a mishap in front of Mum.

Wait. Is that my phone in her hand?

My jaw drops. "Why do you have my phone?"

"I thought I'd help you pack for our holiday."

"But why are you here ? Why didn't you call first?"

"I wanted to surprise you. I have a key."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "I gave it to you for emergencies. Not to sneak into my flat while I'm showering."

"I didn't know you were in the shower until I got here."

"Call first. What if I'd been busy?" What if Jacob had been here? Oh, fuck. What if he turns up while she's here?

"You don't look busy."

"That's not the point. There are boundaries, Mum, and you've just blown through a whole stack of them. Why do you have my phone?" I narrow my eyes. "Did you take it from my room?"

"I checked to see if you were there."

"And my phone fell into your hand?"

She shrugs. "It's no big deal."

"Boundaries! I'm not a kid anymore. You can't look through my phone."

"Who's J?"

I open and close my mouth a few times.

"You've got a lot of texts from him. I assume it's a him."

I can't speak. My throat is tight.

"None of them are very chatty, though. They all seem to be hook-up texts. Is he using you?"

Oh. My. God. "I'm not having this conversation with you while I'm half-naked." I stalk over to her, snatch my phone from her hand, and leave the room, slamming the door behind me.

I mutter angry words under my breath as I pull clothes on. Once I'm dressed, I check my phone. No new messages from Jacob, which probably means he's not coming over. It's not a guarantee. Sometimes he does drop by unannounced. I don't mind when he does it. Not that he can walk into my flat. He has the code to the building, not a key. Would he want one? Would I want to give him one? I file the question away for future me to think about and send Jacob a text.

Archer: Mum's dropped by for a chat.

Thank fuck I didn't put him in my address book under his full name. This isn't how I want Mum to find out Jacob and I are seeing each other. Not that Jacob wants her—or anyone else—to find out ever.

Jacob: No worries. See you soon.

Archer: At the airport, probably.

It's amazing how fast two weeks have flown by. Mum is the queen of organising things at the last minute. She insists it's the best way to get a bargain and save money. It's also a great way to blindside me and everyone around us. Luckily—I think—my boss was cool about giving me the time off.

Jacob: Probably.

I change the passcode on my phone. In hindsight, using the date of my graduation probably wasn't all that secure. I choose the date I met Jacob instead. Freud would probably have a thing or two to say about that decision.

I slip my phone into my pocket and join Mum in the sitting room. She's made herself a coffee and is flicking through TV channels.

She switches the TV off and puts the remote on my windowsill. "You don't drink caffeine in the evenings, do you?"

"No."

"There was no sign you'd started packing when I went into your room."

"That's because I haven't."

"We're flying tomorrow. It's a good thing I came around."

I fold my arms and lean against the doorframe. "We need to talk about you going through my phone."

"Ah, yes. Who's J?"

"That's not what I meant. You can't do that, Mum. It's not okay. It's a massive invasion of my privacy. As is letting yourself into my flat."

"Why haven't you told me about him?"

She might as well have put her fingers in her ears while singing ‘la, la, la'. What do I expect to gain from calling out her bad behaviour? An apology? A promise she'll never do it again?

"Because it's none of your business."

She presses her lips into a hurt line. "Why are you being so defensive?"

"I don't know. Maybe because you snuck in here while I was in the shower, took my phone from my room, and nosed through it."

"I wouldn't need to if you weren't hiding things from me."

I push away from the doorframe and throw my hands up. "I'm not a teenager, Mum. I don't have to give you a blow-by-blow rundown of everything that's happening in my life."

She doesn't have room to talk. She got married without telling me. Married!

She pouts. "It would be nice if you did. I miss you."

Guilt tugs the pit of my stomach. Great. I sit beside her. "Maybe ask rather than snooping through my phone next time?"

She pats my knee. "You're seeing someone."

"Yes."

"Is it serious?"

Good question. No, except when we're cuddled together having sleepy conversations, it feels like it could be. But Jacob's concerns about what people will think about our relationship aren't going to go away anytime soon, and I have no idea how to soothe them. I can't tell Mum any of that.

"No. We have fun together, that's all. Neither of us is thinking about settling down."

"What's his name?"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Josiah."

Mum gapes. "That's…old fashioned."

"Right? He hates it and prefers to be called J." Is any of this credible?

"Understandable."

Ugh, lying to Mum is shit. But what choice do I have? I can't break Jacob's confidence. It would ruin things between us. Plus, his fears are valid. I might not care what other people think, but he does.

"Well, if it does get serious, I'd like to meet him."

I force a smile. "Of course."

How would that conversation go? Not something I want to think about now.

We talk for a while longer, and Mum insists on helping me pack, even though I'm capable of doing it myself.

By the time she leaves, it's nine. Early enough to join my friends at the club, too late to do much else. Do I want to dance the night away? No. I want to see Jacob.

I knock my phone against my knee. Since when have I been the needy type? Since I met someone I click with. Since I met someone who makes me smile, just by thinking about him. Since I met someone who makes my stomach flutter and gives me goosebumps. Uh-oh.

Jacob is the wrong person to fall for. No. Not true. He's the right person at the wrong time. He's the best wrong thing.

Archer: Do you want dessert?

Jacob: Dessert?

Archer: Yes. I'm making it. All you have to do is turn up. Bring an overnight bag.

Our flight isn't so early that he can't sleep over. Even so, I hold my breath as I await his response.

Jacob: Will do. See you soon.

I grin and head to the kitchen. One delicious, irresistible dessert coming right up.

Dessert is in the oven when my doorbell rings. I greet Jacob with a kiss and pull him into my flat. He shuts the door with his foot, drops his overnight bag, pushes me against the wall, and kisses me harder.

"I didn't think I'd get to see you tonight," he whispers.

"I was feeling needy."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh."

"For kisses?"

I put my hand on his chest and push him away a fraction. "Your kisses are amazing, but mostly, I wanted to spend time with you."

"We're about to spend two weeks together."

"Kinda."

He grimaces. "How much time do you think we'll get alone?"

I shrug. "We'll have to make time."

"That'll be hard."

I take his hand and lead him into the kitchen. "I don't think so. Mum's strictly a by-the-pool or on-the-beach person. We love to explore. I bet Mum will be thrilled we want to hang out together. So unless your Dad wants to wander around Playa del Inglés with us, we should be able to spend a fair bit of time together."

"Good point."

"Well made?"

"Very." Jacob sniffs. "Something smells amazing."

"That's our dessert." I check my watch. "It should be ready in a couple of minutes."

"Yum. I didn't know you were into cooking?"

"Fun fact. We jocks are allowed hobbies that don't involve exercise."

He hooks his forefingers into my belt loops and tugs me against him. "Really?" He speaks the word against my lips.

"Really."

He kisses me. "When did you get into baking?"

"At school. I did food tech at GCSE."

The cooker emits a series of high-pitched beeps.

"Dessert." I slip my hand into an oven glove and pull out a baking tray with two small glass bowls.

"Chocolate cake?"

"Chocolate molten cakes. They're best eaten with lots of ice cream."

I put the tray on a silicone mat and cross to the freezer. "Of course. The big question is, do you want vanilla or chocolate?"

"Chocolate ice cream and chocolate cake? Sounds decadent."

"Do you want both?"

Jacob smiles. "Yes, please."

I put a generous amount of ice cream into two bowls and carefully run a knife around the edge of the puddings before turning them out. By some miracle, they don't fall apart.

We sit at the tiny table and break into our chocolate deliciousness, releasing the hot gooey centre over the ice cream.

Jacob scoops some onto his spoon, blows over it, and eats it. "This is amazing."

Heat rises to my cheeks. "It's a super simple recipe. I'll give it to you."

"Or you could make it for me again?"

My cheeks get hotter. "I can do that."

He puts his hand over mine. "Thank you."

I dip my chin and rake my teeth over my lip. "Are you all packed?"

"Yes. You?"

"Yes. Mum insisted on helping me pack."

"Why?"

"No clue. I've given up trying to figure out why Mum does anything."

"Same with Dad." Jacob mixes cake, chocolate goo, and ice cream and shoves a spoonful into his mouth.

"I'm sorry about Mum's part in your parents' break-up."

He strokes my ankle with his foot. "Not your fault. I don't blame you at all. But it's impossible to think about Dad or Molly without also thinking about Mum."

"I can imagine."

He shakes himself. "Let's stop talking about our parents."

"Deal."

He eats a large helping of dessert and waves the spoon. "What other desserts can you make?"

I lean towards him. "Stick around, and you might find out."

He hums. "Sounds amazing. Like you."

My face turns into an inferno. I sit upright, fanning myself, and clear my throat. "I'm glad you think so."

"I do." His tone is far more serious than mine. "I, uh, mentioned you to a friend."

I raise my eyebrows. "You did?"

"Yeah. Rex. He's a travel photographer, so he's out of town a lot. I hope you don't mind."

"Mind that someone I've never met is hardly ever around?"

"That I told him about you. About us."

"Oh, you told him we're sleeping together?"

"Yes."

"And that we're stepbrothers?"

"Yes." Jacob tugs the collar of his polo shirt.

"Wow."

"I'm sorry. I should have checked with you first. But he was there, and it was a flying visit and?—"

I lean over the table and slap my hand over his mouth. "I don't mind that you told him." I lower my hand.

It's freaking amazing that he did. Maybe us being together isn't as much of a dead end as I thought. If Jacob told one friend, could he eventually be relaxed enough about us to tell another? Or to tell his parents? My heart quivers.

He exhales. "Thank god. He won't tell anyone."

I wouldn't care if he did, but Jacob does. "Why do you still look guilty?"

"It was almost two weeks ago," he whispers.

Right after Mum told us about the holiday. We've seen each other plenty of times since then.

"I'm sorry." His voice comes out as a nervous squeak.

I sit. "I. Don't. Mind."

He curves his lips into a nervous smile. "You'd have every right to be mad."

"I'm not. I'm glad you had a friend you could confide in."

He relaxes his shoulders. "Rex is great."

"Hopefully, I'll get to meet him one day."

Jacob's smile becomes more confident. "I'd like that."

"Are any of his photos published?"

"Yes, lots. Mostly on tourist board websites and in travel brochures. I can show you some if you like. He's been all over the world."

"That would be great. Maybe, when I meet him, he could teach me how to take a decent photo. I just snap away and hope I get a few good shots to remember a place by."

Jacob chuckles. "Me too."

"Why are you telling me about Rex now?"

"I don't want any secrets between us. I already hate that I'm lying to my parents through omission. I don't want to keep anything from you."

I tap my spoon against the edge of the bowl. "There's something I need to tell you too."

He freezes.

"Don't freak out, okay?"

"Why would I freak out?"

I take a deep breath. "Mum read my text messages when she was here earlier. Our text messages."

Jacob widens his eyes. His breathing becomes ragged.

I wave my hands. "It's fine. You're stored in my phone as J. She thinks I'm sleeping with a guy called Josiah."

Jacob releases a little of the tension in his body. "Josiah?"

"I panicked and said the first thing that popped into my head. She doesn't suspect anything."

He swirls his spoon around the almost empty bowl. "I'm sorry you had to lie to your mum."

"Yeah, well, she shouldn't have gone through my phone."

"It's a massive invasion of privacy."

"Yes, but I'm used to it."

He looks up sharply. "You shouldn't have to be."

"Maybe, but I've realised over the years that nothing I can say will change the way Mum behaves. Often, the path of least resistance is the best one to choose. I did tell her I was pissed and that she shouldn't have done it, and I've changed my pin to a number she'll never guess. Everything's fine, but I thought you should know."

"Thank you."

"Are we…okay?"

He smiles and strokes my hand. "Yes."

"You're not going to run out on me?"

"No."

"Thank fuck."

We eat in silence. I scrape my bowl clean from every last bit of the pudding. Jacob does the same.

"Archer."

I look up. "Yeah?"

"This is nice."

"Pudding?"

"Spending time together."

"Oh, you mean not dashing straight to the bedroom?" I waggle my brows.

"Yes."

I sigh dramatically. "Does that mean you've got tired of my arse?"

He threads his fingers through mine across the table. "No. I don't think I could ever get tired of any part of you."

My face heats up again. "That's useful. Because we're about to spend two weeks in close quarters."

He rubs his thumb over my hand. "Not close enough."

"No. Maybe we should practise abstinence tonight. You know, to get ready for the holiday."

"Is that what you want?"

"Fuck, no. You?"

"No. I want to hold you all night."

I lean across the table. "Good thing you're staying over, isn't it?"

"Yes." He meets me and kisses me soft and slow.

"You're pretty great yourself," I whisper against his lips.

He swipes his tongue into my mouth. "You taste of chocolate."

"So do you."

We kiss, tickling each other's tongues until my back aches.

"Let me wash up." He collects our bowls.

"You don't have to."

"You made dessert. It's only fair I wash up." He takes the bowls to the sink.

I rest against my chair, stretch my legs, and lay my hands on my belly. "I could get used to this."

"What?" He fills the bowl with hot water and washing-up liquid.

"Having a man around the house to help with boring chores like washing up."

"Keep making desserts, and I'll keep washing up."

"Deal."

"Archer."

"Hmm?" I go over to him and press myself against his back with my arms around his waist.

"After the holiday, would you be open to spending more time together?"

"Do you mean outside the bedroom?"

"Yes. Doing this sort of thing."

I press my cheek against his shoulders. "Yes. I'd like that a lot."

He puts a soapy hand over mine. "So would I."

I close my eyes and smile. "I really like you, Jacob. You make me happy."

He sighs. "I really like you too."