17. Jacob

Chapter 17

Jacob

Archer's smile takes my breath away. I wobble on the log, but he's there, steadying me this time.

"Why don't we get off this thing?" he asks.

"Yes, please."

We take a few more cautious steps and jump off the log onto the opposite bank.

"I told you my balance wasn't good," I say.

Archer laughs. "I was the one who slipped."

"You were walking backwards."

"I wasn't watching where I was going. I was showing off."

I frown. "Showing off?"

"Yeah. I wanted to impress you." He grins and wanders off with his hands clasped behind his back.

I hurry after him and twine my fingers through his. "You don't need to impress me."

"Really?"

"I'm already impressed."

"Are you now?"

I pull him to a halt, stroke his hair, and peck his lips. "Why else would I keep coming back for more?"

He arches an eyebrow. "You tell me."

My throat constricts. "I like you."

"You might have mentioned that."

"I like you a lot."

His smile wobbles. "Good thing I like you a lot too, isn't it?"

What good does reaffirming our feelings do us? It doesn't change our situation. My dad married his mum, and even if everyone else in the universe doesn't care about that, Dad will. He'll judge us. He'll hate me. It shouldn't bother me, but it does. If I can't get past that, Archer and I won't ever be together. The thought leaves me with an ache in the pit of my stomach and a bitter taste in my mouth.

"We're getting left behind." Archer drags me after the rest of our group before they vanish out of sight.

After a few more river crossings, I'm more confident walking along fallen tree trunks with Archer's help. Could I do it without his help? Maybe. Do I want to? No. Every time he firmly grips my hands and encourages me to make our way across each log, my heart flutters. I want to capture the feeling and bottle it. Pathetic? Probably.

By the time we reach the end of the ravine, I'm hot, sticky, and hungry. Our next stop is an eco farm, where a group of clucking chickens dart around our feet in a flurry of feathers, their tiny claws clattering and clicking over cobbled stones. A cockerel struts close by, keeping a watchful eye over the flock.

"Are they hungry?" I dance out of their way.

"They might be pleased to see us."

"It's like being assaulted by seagulls on Blackpool beach."

"No way. Seagulls are mean. These guys—girls—are cute."

I purse my lips. "I guess they are, in a noisy kind of way."

Archer laughs. "You don't want a pet chicken, then?"

"No. Do you?"

"Nah. Maybe a dog or a cat. One day. I'm not allowed any pets in my flat."

"Nor am I. Did you have a pet growing up?"

"I had a rabbit. Mum turned up with it one day, much to Gran's dismay. She ended up being the one to look after it."

"How old were you?"

"Five."

"Too young to look after a rabbit."

"Right? That's what Gran said too. She was ‘Mum' then, of course."

"I remember."

We follow our guide to a long outdoor table and sit at one end of it.

"How about you? Any pets?" Archer asks.

"I wanted a dog, but Dad said no."

"Why?"

Our hosts serve a feast of bread, cheese, thinly sliced tomatoes covered in herbs, mangoes, papaya, pears, guava, and bananas on the table.

"He said I wasn't responsible enough."

"How old were you?"

"Thirteen."

"Sorry." Archer puts his hand on my thigh.

"He was probably right. A dog is a huge responsibility."

"And now? You could have chosen to live somewhere that did allow pets."

I draw in a slow breath. "Now I'm at work more than I'm home. It wouldn't be fair on a dog. But maybe when I'm retired, I'll get a dog."

"Wow. That's some serious forward-thinking."

I chuckle. "Or maybe just a dream." I load my plate with food and sample a little of everything.

"Do you think about the future often?" Archer nibbles on a slice of juicy mango.

"I've got a pension, if that's what you mean."

"I'm more of a live-in-the-moment kind of guy." He peels a banana.

"So's my friend, Rex."

Archer jostles my shoulder with his. "There must be a reason you're drawn to guys like us."

I raise my eyebrows. "I don't fancy Rex."

"I never said you did. But to have him as a friend and me as a—You must like a bit of chaos in your life." He grins around the end of the banana and bites off the top.

I can't stop staring at his mouth as he chews. I can't speak until he's swallowed the piece. "I, uh, I guess I need the chaos to temper my stiffness."

"Then maybe I need someone like you to ground me."

My breath catches in my throat. "You—do?"

"Yes. We're good for each other." He leans across and pecks my lips.

Electricity zips across my skin. I can't breathe. My pulse races.

"We're exactly what each other needs," Archer whispers.

He's right. I grab a fresh piece of bread, even though I still have one on my plate.

"Hungry?" Archer asks.

I nod.

"Did I say something wrong?" His voice wobbles a little.

I pat his knee. "No."

"Sure?"

"Positive."

"What plans are you making right now?"

"None."

Archer lets out a mock gasp. "Really?"

"I don't want to think beyond this day, this trip, this moment."

He knits his brows. "Why?"

"Because then I'll remember it's going to end. We have to go back to the villa and pretend we don't—" I shake my head.

He holds my hand. "I understand."

Does he? Does he know my feelings for him are tying me up in knots? Does he know every moment I've spent with him, just the two of us, has led to me falling for him a little more? Does he know how much I want him? How much I need him? I like you a lot is a poor reflection of my feelings, but what good would it do to say more? I'm too much of a coward to bring our relationship into the open, too afraid of Dad's reaction.

"Jacob."

"Yes?"

"For today only, I give you permission not to think beyond the moment. All that matters is you, me, and having fun. Agreed?" His words act like a magnet, pulling the weight off my shoulders.

Dad isn't here. Archer's right. I don't need to think of anything but this day, this trip, this moment. I don't need to think of anyone else but us. I intend to enjoy every second of our time together. No more brooding or worrying about the future.

"Agreed."

After lunch, we're driven to a fishing village, where we have an hour to swim in a natural pool created by a sandbank formation. I hold Archer's words close to my heart and don't think of anything beyond the moment as we splash each other, cuddle, and kiss in the warm, salty water.

The last part of our trip is over too soon. We get dried, dressed, and file onto the coach for the long journey back to the hotel where we started.

"Good day?" Archer asks.

"The best."

He smiles and rests his head on my shoulder. "I'm tired." He stifles a yawn with his hand.

"Me too." I wrap my arm around him and stroke him with my fingertips.

"That's nice. What's our next trip?"

We booked three on our first day, spread throughout the holiday.

I check the booking details on my phone. "The Red Canyon tour is next and then the volcano."

"Don't we get to see the sunset when we visit the volcano?"

"Yes."

He chuckles softly. "Romantic."

I kiss his hair. It will be. I can't think of anyone I'd rather share the experience with. What does that mean?

Archer snuggles against me. "I know you weren't sure about coming, but I'm glad you did." His voice is quiet and sleepy.

"Me too." A sentiment I never thought I'd express when it came to this holiday.

And yet this bubble we're in will burst when we step off the coach, and we'll have to go back to pretending we're barely civil. So much for living in the moment. At least I managed it for most of the afternoon. Does it count now we're on our way to the villa?

"Archer."

"Hmm?"

"We spent all day together."

He lifts his head and laughs. "You only just noticed?"

I scowl.

"Sorry. What's your point?"

"Do we have to keep pretending we're barely civil? We spent all day together and didn't kill each other. Surely we can be friends now?"

Archer twirls his finger over my thigh. "We're more than friends."

"In front of Dad and Molly." I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. "Forget it. Being friendly will probably be harder than not."

"How so?"

"Because it'll be easier to slip up. I'll say or do something I shouldn't, touch you in a way I shouldn't. You make me tactile."

"I make you—?" He blinks.

"I've never been so touchy-feely with a guy."

He hums and cups my cheek. "I'm a very touchy-feely person."

My face flushes. "I noticed. It's rubbing off on me." I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Bad choice of words. Sorry."

"Or perfect words." He presses his lips to mine and kisses me softly. "You don't think you can control yourself around me?"

"No."

He stares into my eyes, his mouth twitching. He bites his lower lip and looks out the window, dislodging my arm from around him. What was he going to say?

"I guess we should keep pretending we don't like each other. It might make it hard to explain why we keep going on trips together, though," he says.

"Some company is better than no company."

"Eh, I guess that could work."

"I wish I were as brave as you," I whisper.

"You are brave. You jumped out of a plane, remember?"

"You know what I mean."

Archer tips his head against the window. "I'm not brave. I don't care what other people think. I live my life my way. As long as I'm not hurting anyone or breaking any laws, I'm doing nothing wrong." He clasps my hand. "We're not doing anything wrong, Jacob."

Logically, I know that, but fear isn't logical.

"Let's keep things the way they are," he says.

They're already changing, like a seismic shift beneath my feet. We've told each other we like each other. We've agreed to spend time together beyond the fuck-buddy relationship.

"We act indifferent to each other in front of Mum and your dad. We're going on trips together because we enjoy sightseeing. The simpler we keep things, the less likely we're going to trip up," he says.

I nod.

He smiles and rests his head on my shoulder once more. "Right now, I'm going to enjoy the rest of the journey home."

"Why?"

"Because it's just you and me, and I get to be close to you."

I put my arm around him again and lean my cheek on his head.

"Don't think beyond the moment," he whispers.

"All that matters is you and me."

"Exactly."

I close my eyes. "Thank you. I've had a great day."

He squeezes my hand. "Me too."