Chapter 29 London #2
Archer sighs and steadies his attention on me. "See what you've done?"
"What I've done?" I glare at him. "I think we should talk about what you've done."
"Have you been drinking?" he asks me and leans closer, sniffing my breath. "What the fuck, London? Are you drunk?"
"Get out of my face, Archer. You don't get to have a say in my life." I back away from him, stumbling over my own feet.
He reaches out to steady me, his touch warm and firm. I hate that I enjoy it more than I expected I would. I'm supposed to hate him, not want his skin on mine. But I guess just like Grace and Seven, we can't help who we're attracted to.
Maybe I should try Leo out and see if it will distract me from Archer. I wouldn't mind dating the playboy brother if it meant getting over the grumpy one.
"Get inside." Archer guides me into his apartment and I don't bother convincing him otherwise. "You need to sober up."
"You need to sober up."
"Good one." Archer shuts the door behind Seven and Grace, Seven's arm still slung around her shoulders.
She pokes him in the side, causing him to flinch and break his hold on her.
"What's going on here?" Leo comes over, putting his hand on Grace's lower back, asserting his dominance over Seven, a dangerous territory I'm surprised he's willing to explore.
Leo might be dangerous but Seven has made it clear he doesn't care who it is, family or not, he'd kill them for crossing him.
Grace melts into Leo, hugging his torso and kissing his cheek.
Aesthetically, they look damn good together, and if they reproduced, their babies would no doubt be supermodels straight from the womb, every diaper brand desperate to get their faces plastered on the side of a diaper box.
But they're almost too pretty, like if you stared too long, you'd lose your eyesight, as if you were staring into the blazing sun.
Ivy stands from her spot at the table, August sitting in the chair next to her, busy doing something on his phone. "London."
"Ivy." I glare at her, endless bad thoughts running through my mind since she was the one to expose me to Archer before I had gotten a chance to do it myself.
I hate her for ruining what we had before it even began, but I sort of applaud her for doing something I don't know if I'd ever have been capable of doing.
A month later and the entire situation feels as fresh as that fateful morning, when things felt so right, only to end so badly.
I never want to see you again, the final words Archer spoke to me, the ones that sealed our fate permanently.
"Didn't realize you'd be joining us today," she says.
"I came over to have a chat with your brother." I slap Archer on the shoulder, his muscles tense under his shirt. "Isn't that right, big boy?"
Archer's jaw clenches and his nostrils flare slightly.
"We have no secrets," Ivy announces. "What you need to say to him, you can say to the rest of us." She comes around the front of the table like she's daring me to make a move so she can finish things off.
Rationally, I know I should be afraid, not just of her, but every person in this room, but how can I be when the worst is behind me? Nothing they could do to me could ever be worse than anything I've already been through.
"Fine." I turn toward Archer. "Do you want to tell your siblings what you put in my apartment?"
Archer moves quickly, grabbing my shoulders and navigating me away from earshot. "Okay, fine, we can talk alone."
"What, I thought there were no secrets?" I blurt out loud enough so they can hear me. I don't give a fuck if they find out their brother is a stalker who broke into my apartment and left me hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of gifts.
"Bedroom, now." Archer shoves me through the door, kicking it shut once he's through. "You have a big mouth, don't you?"
I spin out of his grasp and fold my arms over my chest. "What the fuck, Archer?"
"What?" He mimics my stance.
"What do you mean, what? Are you really going to pretend like you didn't break into my fucking apartment?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
I narrow my gaze. "You're telling me you didn't? You swear to me it wasn't you."
He pinches his brow and exhales dramatically. "Why do you have to be so difficult? Just say thank you."
"No, absolutely not." I shake my head. "That was a violation of my privacy.
Not to mention how you watch my every move.
How did you even know I wanted that dress, Archer?
Huh? How did you know I didn't have anything to wear?
How could you have possibly known those things unless you were watching me, listening to my conversations?
" I tap my shoe on the floor. "It has to stop, Archer.
It's uncalled for. There's no reason for it.
You said you never wanted to see me again.
Remember? You're telling me you're a liar? "
"You're one to talk," he scoffs.
I point my finger at him. "That's not fair. You didn't even give me a chance to explain."
He steps closer, his presence nearly suffocating me. "You don't deserve a chance to explain."
"Fine. Whatever. If you don't want me to, I won't. But you have to stop fucking stalking me. It's not romantic."
"I wasn't trying to be romantic." His dark eyes meet mine and I can't help but linger my gaze on his lips, reminiscing on the way they felt pressed against my body.
"You're confusing, you know that?" I swallow harshly and keep looking at him.
"There's nothing confusing about this. You're reading into something that isn't there." Archer is the first to break away and walk to the door. He hesitates, his hand on the knob. "What we had died that day, London. There's no coming back from that."
I hate the way his words slice through my heart.
I hate that I care at all. I hate that I wish I could turn back the clock, but that's not possible and there's nothing I can do to change his mind.
And even if I could, he's not the only one who got hurt—the way he threw me out of his apartment, the way he tossed me aside as if I never mattered to him, that isn't something I could forgive, either.
What we had might have been powerful and passionate and life-changing, but it was fleeting and I have to come to terms with the fact that it's gone.
Only, I wish he would, too.
Maybe living next to each other really was a bad idea.
I adjust my dress in the back of the limo Grace had sent to my apartment complex. It fits perfectly, as does every piece of jewelry Archer had bought me.
"You look beautiful," she tells me and fixes her makeup in a small compact mirror. She pinches it shut and tucks it into her clutch.
"So do you." I take her in, her blonde hair slicked back into a pony, the ends in perfectly soft curls.
Her dress is a buttery gold, long gown with sequins and frilly ends coming off the shoulders and bottom half.
It's stunning, and I wouldn't be surprised if it was custom-made for her body.
The neckline plunges deep and shows just enough of her chest not to be too revealing.
"You both are hot as hell," Leo says from his spot next to Grace.
He's wearing a dark navy cashmere suit from Louis Vuitton with a handkerchief that matches Grace's dress.
Everything about him screams I have money and I can't help but wonder what people are going to think about my outfit, considering I didn't pay for a damn thing.
I can't even claim my panties, since I'm not wearing any.
"Thanks, Leo. You clean up nice, too," I say, dancing around the awkward fact that he's Archer's brother. They're not even blood-related but every time I see Leo's face, it reminds me of Archer.
I chew at my lip and stare out the window, the cars passing by in a blur.
"What are you nervous about?" Grace taps me with her stiletto to get my attention.
"Nothing."
She tilts her head. "Don't lie to me."
I let out a sigh and wish Leo wasn't here so I could talk more candidly.
"I don't think he's coming," Grace tells me. "I mean, he bought a table, so he has every right to, but he didn't RSVP. I had my team follow up a few times."
I avert my gaze, fidgeting with the purse I brought with me. I can't tell if I'm relieved or disappointed.
"How long has it been since you talked to him?" Grace slides her hand on top of Leo's when he sets it on her leg.
"Four weeks."
"That's a month, sweetheart," Leo says.
"It will be a month on Thursday," I correct him, regretting it the second I blurt it out.
How psycho do I sound, counting the days since Archer and I last spoke?
We've been apart longer than we were together and yet it still won't ease the ache in my chest every time I think about him.
I already made it through denial, anger, and bargaining, so I guess that leaves depression and acceptance.
The only silver lining is that eventually I'll be over him, and that can't come soon enough.
I'm saved by the limo stopping in front of the massive building Grace secured for this event, my heart racing at the flashing lights that appear when the driver opens the door. I step out first, taking the man’s hand to assist me and do everything I can to be as poised as possible.
Cameras snap, people talk loudly, and I ignore the "Who is she?" and walk with my chin up, my shoulders back, across the red carpet leading to the entrance. I don't let out the breath I was holding until I'm through the chaos, waiting for Grace and Leo who should be behind me any moment now.
"Welcome," a woman says to me, her eyes bright and a tablet in her grasp. "London Smith?"
"Yes," I confirm. "I'm with Grace McCallister."