Moving with utmost care, I lower myself gingerly onto the edge of the lounger. My hipbone presses against his side. He’s warm as a wildfire, despite the chill in the air. I resist the urge to lean into him, to absorb his heat.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Archer Reyes?” I whisper, reaching up to brush the lock of hair off his forehead. I’d like to take a crowbar and pry his thoughts into the open. Brute force may be the only way to get some honest answers out of him.
When I pull back my hand, his arm whips up from his side, quick as a wink. His eyes never open, even as his fingers encircle my wrist in a tight manacle. I barely have time to suck in a surprised breath when he yanks me forward with a sudden burst of force. I fall onto his chest, my head landing in the hollow where his shoulder meets his neck.
“Hey!”
He ignores my sharp exclamation, wrapping his arms around my back. Pulling me tight against him. Aligning my curves against the firm planes of his chest.
I stop breathing.
For years, I’ve wanted this — to be so close to him, it’s impossible to tell where his body ends and mine begins. His hands on my back, his scent invading my senses. Our mouths a scant inch apart.
As I stare at his face, a million emotions flash through me. Confusion, anger, joy, pain. I’m half-convinced I’m still upstairs in my bed; that this is all a dream…
Or maybe a nightmare.
“You should go,” he says softly. So softly, it lands like a punch to the stomach. “You should leave me.”
Even as he says it, he tightens his hold, his body acting in direct contradiction to his words.
“Archer,” I whisper, voice trembling. “What are you doing—”
“Jo,” he breathes back, his mouth in my hair. “MyJo.”
I go still.
How long have I waited to hear those words?
How dare he say them now, when I can’t be sure he means them?
Planting my hands firmly against his chest, I shove out of his hold and spring to my feet. Tears fill my eyes in the space between one heartbeat and the next. I’m breathing hard, my pulse a sharp staccato.
“No, Archer.”
He sits up, startled by my abrupt departure. His eyes are slivers, half-hooded with the effects of alcohol, staring blearily at me across the space I’ve created between us.
“Jo—”
“No,” I grit out, my entire frame quaking with rage. “I am notyourJo. I’m not some plaything you can keep in your back pocket for emergencies, then toss aside whenever you get bored of me again. I’m aperson. I havefeelings. There was a time you used to care about hurting them.”
He drops his head into his hands. He’s silent for a very long time. So long, I think maybe he’s passed out again. When he finally speaks, his voice is full of anguish.
“I still care.”
He does?
He looks up at me, and my heart splinters at the look of pain on his face. “I care so much, it’s killing me.”
I’m afraid to breathe — afraid, if I move one single muscle, this moment will shatter into dust and be swept away on the wind.
“Thenwhy?” A tear leaks out my right eye. Archer watches it slide down my cheekbone and fall to the terrace with a tiny splash. “Why are you being like this? Why have you been lying to me?” I take a step closer, my tears picking up speed. “There’s nothing you could tell me the would make me turn away from you, Archer.Nothing. So just let me in. Let me be part of whatever is going on.”
Shaking his head rapidly, he staggers to his feet. “No. No, I can’t be here.” He lurches sideways, stumbling off balance. “I can’t talk to you about this. It’s not safe.”
“Stop!” I cry, chasing him across the terrace. Grabbing him by the arm. Tugging him around to face me. “I’m not going to let you push me away again! I know you’re in some kind of trouble. I know you only told Jaxon you don’t care about me to keep me out of whatever he’s dragged you into. But if you’d just explain what’s happening, I’m sure I could help ”
Archer’s expression darkens into the same cold mask I’ve grown accustomed to, lately. “I don’t want your help. Don’t you understand that? How many more times do I have to say it?”