Chapter 23
London
I'm so fucking mad at Archer right now but he's making it hard as hell to stay that way when he's this close to me.
I know damn well that he was stalking me, that he went against my one fucking wish of giving me some space.
I'm not sure how he does it, whether it's something on my phone or he put a tracker on me, or maybe he found cameras inside the building, but he somehow knew that Austin was being a pretentious dick and that he ordered steak.
Yeah, he must have a bug on me somewhere.
Part of me wants to slap him in the face for disrespecting me, but then the other half wants to hug him for being here when I needed him.
I didn't expect to actually call him, and yet the second shit started going further than I was comfortable, my hand was reaching for my phone and dialing his number.
I wasn't even fully aware it was happening until his voice came through the speaker and then he appeared out of thin air.
Austin was a terrible date. I was only doing it as a favor to Grace and to get a chance to spend some more time with her.
Sure, the idea of being wined and dined was nice, I just don't like blind dates.
I thought since it was one of Leo's friends, that he would keep decent company, and boy was I wrong.
I can't quite get a good read on Leo either.
One minute he's a perfect gentleman, and the next there's something off about him, like he's scanning everyone around him, looking for a better option, or maybe just so they pay attention to him.
He's conceited, that's for damn sure. And I mean, I get it, Leo is so gorgeous he could have been plucked straight out of a GQ magazine.
But it's a hair too much, like he's trying too hard to be something that he's not.
I guess that might have to do with growing up in the foster system, and never having anything of your own. Perhaps I shouldn't fault him for something he might not have much control over. Still, there's this little thing called therapy he could try out to get past that big ego of his.
As long as Grace is having a good time, that's all that matters.
I return to my seat, the memory of Archer's voice whispering in my ear lingering in my mind.
His breath on my neck is so fresh I can almost still feel him.
I hate that I had only been gone less than an hour, and I was sort of missing him already.
I shouldn't, especially now that I figured out I'm the reason Archer is cold and shut off.
What kind of person would I be if I pursued something with him after finding out his girlfriend was dead because of me?
And it's not as if I could tell him. I don't want to reopen a wound that's clearly still bleeding.
Archer slides into the seat next to me, the one Austin was sitting in only a little bit ago. "I'm not exactly dressed for the occasion," he says.
"You look great," I tell him truthfully.
Archer always looks great, no matter what.
Even when he's at home, rocking sweatpants and a fitted tee.
And now, with him in black jeans and a black button-up rolled onto his forearms, he's especially sexy.
Something about the way he barged in here and took control of the situation has me almost forgetting that I'm mad at him, that I'm supposed to be keeping him at arm's length.
I take an unhealthy swig of the cocktail the waiter brings me, ignoring a glare from Archer.
"So," Grace interjects, a lovely break from the awkwardness filling the space. "Tell me how this baking gig is going." She reaches for her glass, sipping a bit of the sparkling liquid and returning it to the table, one pinkie out the entire way.
"It's good," I respond. "Mostly learning the ropes at this point, nothing too crazy. What's been keeping you busy?"
Grace sighs. "Planning this big charity event. We're about two months out and it's a lot of back and forth with vendors, making sure everything is on order and doesn't fall through. We've sent out invites but it's been slower than I'd imagined with donations."
"Is this the Children's Gala?" Leo chimes in, his arm over the back of his chair, the other hand fidgeting with his whiskey glass.
"Yeah." Grace turns toward him. "You familiar?"
"I'll buy a table," he tells her.
"A table?"
"Did I stutter?"
"A table is two hundred thousand."
Leo shrugs. "Do you want me to buy two of them?"
Her eyes narrow like she's not quite sure if he's joking.
"I'll buy one too," Archer adds, his tone unserious. Both of them act as if they're purchasing a ten-dollar sandwich at the local deli.
Grace breaks out into a smile. "Okay then."
I lean closer to Archer. "Are you being serious?"
"Yeah, why?" He reaches for a piece of bread in the basket on the table, ripping a piece off and popping it into his mouth.
I glance at Grace and throw my hands up. "I can't afford a table, otherwise I'd get one, too."
"I could buy you one?" Archer says without hesitation.
Grace laughs. "I think your generosity is enough, Archer. Anyway, won't you need a date?" She side-eyes Leo and I wonder if he's going to get the hint or if he's going to be a dumb boy.
He clears his throat, picking up on it easily. "Will you be my date, Grace McCallister?"
"Hmm." She taps at her mouth. "I mean, I guess a date would be nice…"
"What's a man gotta do? Get down on his knees and beg?" Leo all but puts out his bottom lip and pouts. It's sort of cute watching them flirt, but I can't help but feel like something is off with them. It's too forced, too fake, too inauthentic.
She has more chemistry with Seven, even if she claims she hates him.
Although, I'm sure she'd never admit that because she and Seven are truly opposites.
Not like Archer and I, but to a more extreme level.
Everything that Seven is missing—common decency, empathy, kindness, a moral compass—Grace has in heaps.
Things between them would never work. Although I imagine their sex life would be fueled with fiery passion.
My mind floats back to Archer, his mouth on my center in the parking garage, the sensation of his hands on me a distant memory, begging to not be forgotten. I adjust in my seat, my cheeks reddening.
"I'd make you beg," Grace finally says. "But there's no one here to witness it, and what fun would that be?"
"I'd find enjoyment out of it," Archer adds, his gaze doing a double take on mine. He pauses and comes closer. "You okay? We can get out of here."
I force a smile. "I'm good."
My feelings are too fucking conflicted and they're starting to get on my nerves. Can't my mind, my heart, and my vagina decide what they want with Archer before I internally combust?
Under the table, Archer slides his tattooed hand onto my leg, resting it near my knee, his touch setting my skin on fire. "You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"
I swallow and nod. "Mmhm."
His eyes dance back and forth as he tries to see through what I'm hiding from him.
I place my hand on top of his and give it a gentle squeeze. "Everything is fine, big boy."
"There's my little tornado." Archer's cheeks turn up into a grin and he winks at me, my entire body igniting with a passion I cannot do a damn thing about other than snuff it out.
Three waiters approach the table, providing an escape from Archer's torture he doesn't even realize he's inflicting on me.
They set various plates around the table, pointing and going into brief detail about which is what, and somehow, I don't hear a single word of it.
I just smile and nod politely and wait for them to leave, my head ringing and my core tightening.
Archer scoots his chair in, and I find myself doing the same, copying him without meaning to. He leans in again, this time right next to my ear. "Do I have your permission to touch you?"
I blink at him, confused by his question. "Of course," I respond.
Slowly, he returns his hand to my knee, sliding his inked fingers under the dainty fabric of my dress.
Grace and Leo place some of the food onto their respective plates and dig in, chatting amongst themselves, probably finalizing details about their gala date, or curing cancer for all I know. I can't be bothered, not with Archer's hand tracing a trail up my thigh.
My breath catches as he stops at my panty line, only I'm not wearing any, and he must have just come to this conclusion.
I reach for the glass of water near my cocktail, busying myself with taking a sip while Archer traces his finger along my wetness, teasing my entrance.
I stifle a moan when he slips a finger in, my pussy clenching around him, my heart picking up its pace at being this exposed, this intimate, in a public setting.
With complete fucking composure, Archer takes his left hand to reach for one of the appetizers, placing it into his mouth. "This is good," he mutters, grabbing another one and extending it toward me. "You should try it."
My eyes meet his, never leaving them as I obey, opening my mouth and my legs just slightly.
Archer carefully places the appetizer into my mouth and shoves his finger in farther, twisting it to apply pressure to the softness of my G-spot.
He lingers his thumb over my lip and watches me chew while slowly rocking his hand so discreetly that neither of our table guests seems to be aware that he's fucking me with his hand.
I let out a soft moan, the sound easily passing for satisfaction with the flakey, gooey thing I'm currently chewing. But Archer and I both know my suppressed sounds are for him, and him only.
"You want another one?" he asks me, and I can't quite make out what exactly it is he's referring to.
"This is such great finger…food." Archer pops another one of the bite-sized pastries into his mouth.
"These are good, right?" He points to the plate, commanding the attention of Grace and Leo, his other finger gliding in and out of my pussy.