Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Easton

I move to stand, but Archer says, “Stay there. I gotta get rid of the condom anyway, so I’ll get something to clean you up.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him no. Why does he act like he’s gotta take care of me? Like he wants to.

But I don’t tell him that. I stay right there on the couch with cum on my belly while he goes into the kitchen. A minute later, he walks out with a trash bag and a handful of wet paper towels for me.

“Thanks,” I reply without looking at him. I clean myself off, then throw the mess away.

“Where are your outside cans? Feels weird leaving a used condom in the kitchen.”

I chuckle, partly because he’s right and partly because he’s so fucking perfect, it’s ridiculous. “Around the side of the house. You walking out there naked?”

“It’s not like you have neighbors.”

I shake my head but must admit it’s kind of cute. “The key for the trash bins is on the wall by the door.” The bears are too bad around here not to keep trash in a metal, locked container.

I frown as he pushes into a pair of my slides, then takes the trash, key, and goes. It’s a silly thing to pay attention to, a silly thing to concentrate on—a man I’m fucking wearing my shoes—but it feels so intimate, so comfortable, it throws me for a loop.

“Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with me?” I stand up, needing something to do, and put on my underwear. I toss the towels in the laundry, and after making sure there’s no mess on the couch, I pluck the bag of food from the small table, take it into the kitchen, and wash my hands.

Knowing that means dinnertime, Pretty Girl and Casanova come running in. “You two hungry?” I ask, as if they’re not always hungry.

I feed them first, then hear the door close when Archer comes back in. He finds his boxer briefs too, putting them on and joining us just as I finish feeding them.

“Casanova seems to be adjusting quickly,” he says.

“Yeah, it’s because of Pretty Girl. He follows her lead.”

“I think it’s also because he’s comfortable with you. And he knows you’re going to protect and take care of him.”

I roll my eyes, but at the same time, I get a tingling in my chest at the thought. I want them both to be able to count on me. To feel loved because of me. “Sorry the dinner got cold,” I change the subject.

“I had my dick inside you, East. I don’t give a shit about the food.”

“It’s a great ass.” I shrug.

“It is.” He wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses the side of my neck. He’s so…touchy-feely. Like we’re doing more than just fucking, like we’re in some kind of relationship, or hell, as if he just likes to be close to me.

I can’t deny there’s a part of me that wants to lean back into him, that has felt empty ever since he pulled out of me, and that emptiness is like an echo chamber inside me.

“We gonna eat, or are you trying to fuck me again? Can you get it up that fast?”

“I’m not trying to fuck you. I just wanted to kiss you.”

“Well, it’s weird.” I scoop fried rice, chicken, and veggies onto two plates.

Archer chuckles. “You have a strange idea of what’s weird.”

“Warm yours up first.” I point to the microwave. Archer gives me a dumb smile that I don’t even understand the reason for, but then does as I say.

I get us drinks, warm my food up, and then we sit down at the small table together.

He takes a bite…and so do I. He doesn’t say anything, so I don’t either, and we just…eat in silence.

Ask him how his day at work was, you dork.

Not now, El.

He takes another bite and shoots me a grin.

“How was…work?” Christ, I sound like a fucking idiot. Is this my first time having a conversation with another human or what?

“There was that accident. Two passengers were injured pretty badly. One…I don’t know if she’ll make it. Fire department came out, and Cora was working. I hate that she has to see that shit.”

I nod. It’s not something I ever really thought about—Archer running into his family at work that way.

“She’d kick my ass if she heard me saying something like that. She’s damn good at what she does, and it’s part of the job, a career she loves, but…I guess I just want to protect people from the ugly shit out there.”

I’m not sure anything has ever sounded more Archer. “You can’t, though. Not really. No one can.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t try.”

“You two are close?” I still have trouble looking at him when I speak, so I pay attention to my food, looking down as I scoop some up.

“Along with Cass, she’s my best friend, yeah.”

Jealousy sweeps through me like a wildfire, burning everything in its path. I want that. Want it so fucking much. I should have always had Ella, and she should have always had me.

Flashes of memories play in my head.

The boat tipped over.

Ella in the water.

Diving in as Morgan came running.

“Hey.” His hand hooks beneath my chin and tilts it up.

I’m not sure if it’s only been seconds I lost or if it was longer.

“Stay with me, East.”

“I’m fine.” But I don’t pull away from him.

“You wanna talk about her?”

My head snaps back. “No. Fuck no. Talk to me about something else.”

He studies me, and for a moment, I’m not sure if he’s going to listen, but he gives me a slow nod. “What do you like to do for fun?”

“Fuck you, play with my dogs, and work on cars. What else do you think I do?” But then, I haven’t been to any bar in a while—something I used to do a lot, though not since the night I was last arrested.

“I’m grateful to be included.” He winks.

“You’re such a dork. Do people actually wink?”

He laughs. “Goddamn. I’m gonna have to up my game with you. I used to think I was pretty smooth until I started trying to win over Easton Swift.”

I roll my eyes. He’s not trying to win me over, not really, but the thought does make me uncharacteristically warm inside.

It’s that warmth, those normal, almost happy feelings he sometimes gives me, or at least tries to give me, that has me saying, “I can draw.”

“Good boy.” He leans back in his chair.

“I’m a good boy because I can draw?”

“No, because you told me.”

Goddamn him. I shake my head, trying not to show him I’m pleased.

“I don’t have an artistic bone in my body.”

“Eh. Not all of us can be as talented as me.”

Archer chuckles. “You’re such a brat.” He takes another bite of his food. Once he’s swallowed, he says, “You should draw me sometime.”

“Oh, I should?”

“Yep. You can draw me naked if you want.” He pumps his brows, and though laughing isn’t something I usually do easily, I can’t help but do it with him. Often.

“I like the sound of your laugh.”

“Do you google shit like that to say?”

“No, sweetheart. I’m just that good.” This time his wink is exaggerated and obnoxious, the two of us chuckling together.

We finish eating, then put our plates in the sink before heading for the couch again.

Ask him about himself, East.

I don’t need your advice.

But really, I do. “What do you like to do for fun?”

“Outdoors stuff. Be with my family. Meadow has been trying to teach me to sew, but it’s not going well. When I’m around the house, I’ve gotten into building these 3D wood model kits. I’ve done cars, boats, a clock. I did this train that was really cool.”

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.”

They do.

“It’s nothing.”

“I think it’s cool.” He tries to pluck it out of my hand, but I pull away…then stop. Archer closes his hand and sets it on his thigh. “Sorry.”

What does he have to be sorry about? Why the fuck can’t I just be normal?

So, heart pounding, I take Archer’s hand, open his fist, and set the butterfly inside. “It’s yours. You can throw it away if you don’t want it.”

“Fuck no. I’m not throwing it away. I’m keeping it.”

“You’re an idiot.”

He smiles, but then his gaze shoots to my shoulder, then the butterfly in his hand.

Tell him, East. It’s okay.

“She loved them…butterflies, I mean.”

And thank fuck he doesn’t ask me to elaborate, just wraps his arm around me, kisses the top of my head, and we finish the episode.

When it’s over, we head upstairs and get ready for bed together. It’s not until the lights are out that the feeling of being alone, of being empty creeps in again, and I reach into the drawer and grab more lube. “Will you put your fingers inside me? Just for a little while.”

“Jesus, sweetheart. Yes. Fuck yes.”

He slicks them up, then pulls me to him. We’re both on our sides, facing each other. Archer tugs my leg so it’s hooked over his hip, opening me up for him.

The moment the first finger pushes in, I melt into him, yes and thank you and why do I need this? all playing tug-of-war with my thoughts.

He slowly fucks me with one finger, then two, kissing my forehead, my temple. This isn’t for sex or to get off. Archer knows that without me having to tell him.

He just kisses me…fills me…and eventually, I fall asleep.