18. Archer

Chapter 18

Archer

The villa is too small, but it's too hot to walk along the beach. At least in the rainforest, we found shade under the trees. Mum spent all morning on a sunbed. She had a break for lunch, which she insisted we ate together, then returned to worship the sun. How can she do it? I'm going out of my mind, and I've been reading and checking out job adverts back home.

Jacob and I are like two prowling lions, never getting too close to each other. I can't stop glancing at him, though. Any chance I get, when I'm sure neither Mum nor Barry is paying me any attention, I look his way. We were so hands-on yesterday that being completely the opposite today is torture. Why didn't we book more trips? Oh, right, because I'm not exactly loaded. Yes, Barry offered to pay for trips, but Jacob didn't seem happy with that plan. Plus, it doesn't feel right to use Barry's money to get close to Jacob.

Jacob is cutting an orange. He's wearing the T-shirt I bought him and a pair of casual, knee-length shorts. His feet are bare. I rake my teeth over my bottom lip. He's hot. I want to wander over to him, put my hands on his hips, and kiss his neck and jaw. But I can't. My fingers tingle with need. I'm hot under the collar, even though I'm sitting in the flow of the air conditioner. I want to talk to him and laugh with him. I want to run my fingers through his messy hair. I want to have a siesta with him and doze the afternoon away.

I want doesn't get.

Why am I doing this to myself?

Jacob has made it clear that our relationship must stay secret. Deep down, I know we have no future together, but that doesn't stop me—the king of living in the moment—from daydreaming about waking up in his arms each morning, not having to feign indifference, and bringing our feelings for each other out into the open.

I should walk away from him. Instead, I want to run to him.

He puts the slices of orange into four glasses, fills them with iced water, and puts them on a tray. He turns, his gaze colliding with mine. My cheeks flush as I look away. I wasn't staring. Nope. Not at all.

He strides over to me. "Drink?" His voice is stiff.

"Sure. Thanks."

He hands me a glass, and our fingers brush. It's not enough.

"Stop staring," he whispers.

"It's not my fault. It's yours."

He knits his brows. "How do you work that one out?"

"For being too good-looking."

He scowls, which is at odds with the blush illuminating his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He's beautiful when he's embarrassed.

He takes a couple of deep breaths. "Behave."

"I'm trying."

Mum's lying on the sunbed, her face tilted to the sky. She's too far away for me to tell if she has her eyes closed. Barry is sitting on the edge of the pool in the shade, his back to us, dangling his legs in the water and patting his bald head with a handkerchief.

I hop to my feet and peck Jacob's lips.

"What are you doing?" His face is even more flushed than before.

"You make me tactile." I wink at him, kiss him again, and then release him as Barry stands.

By the time Barry faces the villa, I'm sitting and innocently sipping the water Jacob gave me.

"Oh, you made drinks. Thank you, Jacob." Barry takes a drink from the tray. "You should come outside. The weather is beautiful."

"No, thanks." Jacob's voice is strained.

"This animosity towards Molly has to end. You're an adult. Stop acting like a child."

Tension floods my body. Over the last few days, I've discovered I hate how Barry talks down to Jacob. It's me he should be angry with, not Jacob. I'm the reason Jacob is on edge. I shouldn't have kissed him. How can I fix this?

Jacob's knuckles turn white. The two remaining glasses rattle on the tray. "It's too hot outside."

"Nonsense. Stop making excuses."

"It is too hot," I say. Which isn't a lie. It's uncomfortably hot outside, especially under the brilliant glare of the sun.

Barry looks between us. Why doesn't he accuse me of ‘making excuses'? He grumbles something under his breath, takes a second glass for Molly, and stomps outside.

Jacob releases a breath. The tension in his body dissipates.

"Sorry," I say.

"It's not your fault."

Isn't it? "Do you want to get out of here? We could go for a walk."

"After we've just said it's too hot to sit outside? I don't think it would go down well, do you?"

I shake my head.

Jacob sighs. "Maybe coming on this holiday was a mistake."

My chin trembles. "You didn't think that yesterday."

"That was different."

We weren't here, trapped like peas in a pod with Mum and Barry.

He deposits the tray beside the sink and sits on a chair adjacent to mine, holding his glass in both hands, not looking at me. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It's just hard."

"And even harder when I go and do dumb things like kissing you," I whisper.

"I liked that you kissed me." He keeps his voice just as low.

I glance at Mum and Barry, but I'm one hundred per cent sure they're too far away to hear our hushed voices. Not that either of them seems to be paying us any attention.

"Just not that we almost got caught?" I ask.

Jacob grimaces.

"I'm sorry. I'll behave from now on."

He meets my gaze. "You shouldn't have to."

I want to put my hand on his knee. I don't. "Yes, I do. I promised secrecy, and I meant it. No more playing dangerously."

"I really like you, Archer."

I smile. "And I really like you too."

"I wish our circumstances were different."

I force myself to keep smiling. My fingers twitch with the desire to touch him. "But they're not. Can I make an observation? About your dad."

He nods.

"He holds you to higher standards than he holds himself."

Jacob makes a strangled sound.

"Is he the reason you care so much about what others think?"

"Yes."

"You know he has no right to judge you, right?"

Jacob's expression becomes miserable.

"I'm sorry. I'll back off. It's none of my business."

Jacob doesn't say a word.

I've scored two own goals in about ten minutes. Way to go, Archer. "I'm going to my room for a bit." At least there, I won't be tempted to touch him, steal a kiss, or put my foot in my mouth.

Jacob remains silent as I slip away. At the door, I look back. He's sitting in the same position, his stare fixed firmly on his glass, the ice cubes clinking against the sides.

I walk down the corridor leading to the bedrooms and go into my room, which is light and airy like the rest of the villa, although not very big. It's longer than it is wide, so there's barely room to walk around the foot of the double bed. Since we got here, I've kept the curtains closed to keep it cool, even when the air con isn't on. It sort of works. I grab a book from my suitcase and lounge on the bed. I've barely reached the end of the first page when there's a knock on my door.

"Come in."

The door opens. Jacob enters the room and shuts it.

I raise my eyebrows. He was the last person I was expecting.

"What happened with Dad wasn't your fault," Jacob says.

It was, but I keep my mouth shut. I close my book and put it on the bed.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," he says.

"I'm fine. It's you I'm worried about. I hate seeing you this tense."

He replies with a wry smile. "Well, my usual form of stress relief is off-limits."

I arch a brow. "I'm your stress relief, am I?"

He cups my cheek. "You're becoming so much more than that."

Damn. My chest squeezes tight. I can't breathe.

"I wish—" He shakes his head and pulls away.

I catch hold of his hand. "What, Jacob? What do you wish?"

"I was brave enough to tell the world I want to be with you."

"You—?" I blink.

"I'm sorry I can't be enough for you, Archer."

I squeeze his hand. "You are."

"I'm not. I don't think I ever will be."

I rake my teeth over my lip. "What are you saying?"

"I'm not sure."

"You don't want to end it, do you?" Why did I ask that? I hold my breath.

"No. But sooner or later, you will."

I exhale. "Right now, I don't. So stop worrying about what might happen, okay?"

He nods. "I should go."

I release his hand.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks.

"Yes."

I'd be even better if I could hold Jacob. If I could kiss him and run my fingers through his messy hair. If I could feel his stubble against my jaw and his warm hands against my skin. I'm going to be so fucking needy by the time we get home. I'll need him to hold me all night long.

I read until the worst of the afternoon heat is over and then emerge from my room. Mum and Barry are outside. Did they come in at all, or has Mum been working on her tan this whole time? Jacob isn't around. Is he in his room? Probably.

I step onto the patio.

"Hi, love, are you joining us?" Mum asks.

"No. I'm going for a walk."

"Oh. I feel like I've barely seen you."

"I've been here all day."

"Inside."

"Yes. Where it's cooler."

"You won't get a tan inside."

"I don't want a tan."

Although my skin is getting a little sun-kissed from my morning run-swim combo. By the end of the holiday, I'll probably have a half-decent tan without putting in endless hours of ‘effort' like Mum.

"Will you be back for dinner?" she asks.

"Probably."

"Make sure you have your phone."

I roll my eyes. "Yes, Mum."

"Don't be cheeky."

I stick my tongue out and hurry away before she can admonish me again. I can never keep track of whether Mum is going to behave like a mother or an older sister. In Barry's presence, she tends to behave more like a mum. Is she trying to impress him? As long as she doesn't start treating me like Barry treats Jacob. Why is Barry so hard on him? It fucking sucks, and it's uncomfortable to be around.

I wander along the road in the shade of the palm trees until I reach Jumbo Centrum. It's busier than when Jacob and I came here on our first day. Different times of day, I suppose. I buy a soft drink at one of the English bars and sit outside, playing a game on my phone.

"Don't tell me you're alone."

I shade my eyes with my hand and look up. A guy with olive skin, dark shoulder-length, wavy hair, and sparkling brown eyes is smiling at me. He's handsome. ‘Interested' vibes roll off him in waves. Before Jacob, I'd have switched straight into flirtatious mode.

"Uh, yeah."

"What are you drinking?"

I lift my almost empty glass. "Lemonade."

"Fancy something stronger?"

"No, thanks."

He goes into the bar. I return to my game, not giving him a second thought until he returns, sits at my table, and puts a fresh glass of lemonade with plenty of ice in front of me.

"Um, thanks." I stir the lemonade with the black paper straw, the ice clinking together. "I should tell you right now that I'm not looking to hook up."

He chuckles and holds out his hand. "Regan."

"Archer." I shake his hand. He has a firm grip.

"I can't say I'm not disappointed. You're cute."

"So are you."

"But you're taken? Or just not looking for sex right now?"

"I'm kinda taken."

He raises his brows. "Kind of?"

I sip some lemonade. "It's messy."

"Messy?"

"You don't want to hear about a stranger's messy love life."

"I'd rather have chatted you up and taken you to my hotel room, but given that's not an option, I'm happy to listen if you need to talk."

I frown. "Really?"

"Really."

"Are you here alone?"

"Nah. I'm here for a stag do. My best friend is getting married."

"Shouldn't you be with him?"

"Would you believe everyone else in our group is still sleeping off their hangovers from last night?"

I puff my cheeks out. "Wow. That must have been a good night."

"Oh, it was. But I promised I'd be the sensible one who made sure Will didn't get handcuffed naked to a lamppost with a bottle stuck up his arse."

Lemonade splutters out of my nose, and I bend double, choking.

"So I stayed sober, and now I've got nothing to do while everyone else recovers."

I open my mouth. Close it. Open it. Close it. "I honestly have no words."

He laughs. "So we're clear, I made sure Will got back to his hotel room safe and sound."

"I'm sure he appreciates having a friend like you."

"I sure hope so. Now we've established my friend credentials, do you need to talk?"

Do I? Would offloading to a total stranger give me any clarity? I've not even mentioned Jacob to my friends. Despite risking kissing him earlier, I've been taking my promise to keep our relationship secret seriously. But we were open with our affection during the rainforest tour, so how is this any different? I'll never see Regan again.

I take a breath. "I've fallen for my stepbrother."

"Wow. Okay."

"Is that terrible?"

"I might need some context."

I swipe my thumb over the condensation of the glass. Maybe I should have asked for something stronger, although that would have given him a message I didn't want to send.

"My mum had an affair with his dad, and they got married without telling either of us. We hooked up, not knowing who the other was, and now we do know, we still can't keep away from each other." I sip my drink and wait for Regan to process what I said. Why is he taking so long to say anything? "Oh, and Mum's only two years older than him." I should probably have mentioned that right away.

"Do you think it's terrible?" Regan asks.

"Jacob does."

"He's your stepbrother?"

"Yes. He's worried everyone will judge us and tell us it's wrong."

"But what do you think?"

"I-I thought I didn't care what anyone thought."

"But—?"

"Sitting here, waiting for you to deliver a verdict…"

He chuckles. "A verdict? That's a bit extreme. I'm not a judge, jury, or executioner."

I half smile. "I guess it doesn't matter what I think if everyone else has a problem with us being together."

"Do you think I do?"

"I dunno. Do you?"

He thatches his fingers and taps them against his lips. "It's…unconventional. Do I have a problem with it? No. But I have no vested interest in who you're with, especially as you're not interested in me."

I sip some lemonade.

"You'd be naive to believe you won't face any pushback from anyone. You almost certainly will. Not from everyone, mind, but there will be people who don't care about the context. People who hear the words ‘stepbrother' and ‘relationship' and instantly go into disgust mode."

I can imagine Barry doing that. Would Mum? Would Jacob's mum? I hope my friends are more open-minded, like me, but until I tell them, I won't know for sure.

I grimace. "Jacob's an assistant bank manager. Our relationship won't affect his job, will it?"

Regan shrugs. "That will depend on his manager. It shouldn't ."

I slump in my chair.

"Not the perspective you wanted?" Regan asks.

"I guess I'm starting to understand why Jacob is so desperate to keep our relationship secret, and it sucks."

"I think the big question is, if going public with your relationship does cause a storm, do you think the two of you could weather it together?"

A tight knot of emotion lodges in my throat. "I don't know."

"You need to figure that out. If the answer is no, you should walk away before you lose your heart to him."

My chest aches. "I think it might be too late for that."

"Do you love him?"

Do I? I've never been in love with anyone. Love is a funny concept that everyone talks about but no one can explain. Do I think about Jacob all the time? Yes. Do I miss him when he's not around? Yes. Does he make me smile and laugh? Does he make my heart flutter and my skin tingle? Yes and yes and yes. Does it hurt to think of this thing with him ending? Yes.

"Maybe," I whisper.

"Is he worth potential heartache?"

I meet Regan's stare. "Yes. He's amazing. Not that he knows it, but he is. It's crazy because we're opposites in so many ways. But we click, y'know? We work together."

A muffled ringtone emanates from Regan's pocket. He takes his phone out and waves it in my direction. "And that's my summons from Will. He's puking his guts up and needs someone to hold his hair. I'm sorry. I've got to go."

"You're a good friend."

He grins. "I try." He stands. "People love to judge. But if you and Jacob stand firm and show everyone how happy you make each other, the haters will soon shut the fuck up. Good luck." He waves and heads off, leaving me alone with my thoughts.