Chapter 29 London #5
"Miss," the bartender says. "That'll be thirty-seven even. Sir, yours is eighteen fifty."
"Allow me," Blake chimes in, putting his hand out to stop me from reaching forward with the card in my hand.
My lips part to stop him but I don't out of fear it wouldn't work anyway. With the money from Leo, I would have had plenty to cover it, I just didn't want to deal with the awkwardness of what-ifs.
"Thanks," I tell him and take the two drinks that belong to me. "I'm over here, with a friend." I point in the direction Leo is, our eyes meeting from across the way, his expression shifting when he spots me, his feet moving away from the couple he's talking to without hesitation.
"You're here with Leo Sin?" the man asks while sipping the old-fashioned.
"Yeah, you know him?" I walk a few steps away from the bar, Blake coming with me as Leo approaches.
"Blake," Leo greets him with not even a hint of friendliness in his tone.
"Leo." Blake remains cool and collected, neither of them letting on that they probably want to kill each other right here and now. If I had to guess, they're rivals of some sort, but I doubt either of them is going to confess the truth, not to me.
"Are your brothers here?" Leo takes one of the glasses from me.
"Here, there, you know how brothers are." Nothing about what Blake said just made sense and I don't bother questioning him because it's none of my business and I don't actually care all that much. "And yours?"
"Oh, you know, the same."
"Can you two be any more vague?" I scan the floor for Mystery Girl again, the music picking up and playing a faster-paced ballad. I chug my drink, shoving my glass toward Leo. "Here." I shift my attention to Blake, grabbing his hand and guiding him away. "Let's dance."
"London, don't you—" Leo gets out but it's too late, I've already made my mind up, and even though he claims there's nothing serious going on between him and Grace, he isn't willing to ruin her night by making a scene.
"I thought you'd never ask." Blake grins and spins me into him, his chest broad and strong.
His hand finds my waist and he guides us farther into the crowd and I'm grateful that Leo disappears from my line of sight with his judgmental glare.
He was helping me hunt for a distraction, what's wrong with Blake?
He seems like a perfectly suitable choice.
"Are you married?" I ask him, the question so out of line.
He chuckles and continues dancing, not for a second hesitating. "No. I am not married. Are you?"
"I am not."
Blake tilts his head in the direction we came. "And Leo Sin, are you two dating?"
This time it's my turn to laugh. "No. He's dating my best friend, Grace."
He raises a brow. "Grace McCallister, as in, the senator's daughter?"
"I'd argue that she's much more than the senator’s daughter."
"Oh, my apologies. How dare I assume." He extends his hand, twirling me around and back to him. "Interesting friends you keep."
"What about you? You come here alone? Where are your friends?"
"I have friends all over." He leans in close. "Maybe you'll be one of them."
A chill runs up my spine and I can't decipher whether it was poorly timed with him saying that or if my intuition is trying to tell me something. The alcohol coursing through me can't be bothered, not when my mind is finally distracted.
"Are you always vague?" I hold on to him, his body swaying with mine, everything about us in sync with each other.
Blake stares down at me, something about it reminding me of Archer, my brain not wanting to let it fucking rest. "What do you want to know, love?"
"How do you know Leo?"
"We're business associates."
"Why are you here tonight?"
"To support a great charity."
"What did you eat for dinner?"
"Steak and lobster."
"How many people have you killed?"
"I stopped counting." The words are out of his mouth before he can take them back, his grip on me tightening, his expression darkening. "That was a joke, obviously."
"Obviously," I scoff and keep dancing, because what other choice do I have?
I could push him away, cause a scene, or finish the song and part ways.
I have to act unbothered and pretend like he didn't just admit to being a murderer.
I'm no stranger to killers, but I prefer to know mine a bit more so I can determine whether I'll be added to that list.
But I don't get a chance to finish the song, and neither does he, because something catches my attention from behind him. I settle my gaze on Archer fucking Sin barreling toward us like he might slaughter everyone in this place.
My mouth drops open and I freeze in place, unsure of what to do. I don't want to ruin Grace's night, but all I see is Archer and his hands balled into fists.
"Get your fucking hands off of her," Archer says through gritted teeth, putting his hand between me and Blake, breaking us apart.
Blake matches his energy. "Don't touch me, Archer."
They glare at each other, not quite drawing an excessive amount of attention toward themselves, but the kettle brews and is at risk of boiling over any second now.
Leo rushes over and grabs Archer's shoulder. "Hey, buddy, simmer down."
Archer shoves Leo, hard. "I'll deal with you later."
"Deal me with? What the fuck did I do?" Leo rubs the spot on his chest Archer hit.
"Stop it," I announce. "All of you. You're being dramatic."
"You know this guy?" Blake looks at me but points to Archer. "He your boyfriend?"
"No,” I say at the same time Archer says, "Yes."
I whip my head at him. "Excuse me? You fucking wish."
"London, now is not the time or place," Archer tells me.
My eyes go wide. "Oh, it's not? You barge in here acting like some tough guy, and I'm the problem?"
"I'll deal with you later," Archer says, the same thing he said to Leo, but this time, to me.
"You're not serious," I blurt out, ready to punch Archer for being such an asshole.
I thought Leo was the arrogant brother, not Archer.
"You're such a fucking child, you know that, Archer?
" I glare at him before turning on my heel and storming away.
They can figure their shit out themselves, it's not my problem and I won't be a part of it.
"Where are you going?" Leo calls after me.
I don't stop, I keep going, not even when I can hear footsteps trailing behind me, my fist forming and ready to land on whoever is following me out.
But once I'm through the doors, I'm met with flashing lights, the camera people hungry to take photos of anyone walking out those doors.
I squint and shield my eyes, marching past them and onto the sidewalk in front of the gorgeous building where Grace is hosting her gala.
"Shit," I mutter, realizing I never got a chance to say goodbye.
I promised her I would, that I wouldn't ghost her, but Archer and his scene sort of forced my hand. Hopefully, she'll understand that.
"London, wait." Archer reaches out and grabs my arm, causing me to halt to a stop, his grip firm. He releases me the second I'm no longer moving away from him, like I might catch him on fire.
I spin toward him, crossing my arms over my chest. "What do you want?" It's then that I see Leo and Blake hot on Archer's heel. The two of them shove each other. "Children, all of you."
"Get your hands off of me," Blake tells Leo and pushes him aside, stopping next to Archer. "Are you okay?"
"Don't pretend like you care," I say to him. "You probably knew about me and Archer the whole time, just trying to get under his skin." I point at Leo. "And you, if you don't get back in there and support Grace, I'll hire someone to kill you."
Blake raises a brow and clears his throat.
Archer shoots him a dangerous glance. "Not a word out of you."
"Don't speak over him," I tell Archer. "You have no right."
"I don't think I should leave yet." Leo scratches his chin and motions to Archer and Blake.
"Your families have some kind of agreement, correct?" I tap the toe of my heel impatiently.
"Yes," Archer is the first to say.
"Then it's fine." I shoo Leo. "Leave. Now. Tell her I'm sorry."
Leo sighs like he's disappointed he's going to miss something and leaves us be. He collects a few photographers who are lingering and gets them to give us some privacy.
"Listen, I don't care if you two rip each other’s throats out, but I need a ride home, so who's it going to be?
" I steady a glance between them, knowing damn well I'm not going to go home with Blake, but not wanting to go with Archer either.
I guess I could use the cash I took from Leo to pay for a cab, but that doesn't sit well with me either.
Suddenly, a chill rattles through me, the night breeze nipping my exposed skin.
"Here, you're cold." Blake unbuttons his jacket. "I can take you home."
Archer slams his arm into Blake's chest. "Over my dead body."
"Don't tempt me with a good time," Blake tells him. "You keep putting your hands on me and I'm going to make damn sure of it."
"It's fine," I say. "Archer's going in my direction anyway. Thanks, though." I reach toward Blake, patting his shoulder. "I appreciate it." It's not lost on me that Archer's jaw tenses at witnessing me touch Blake, but he maintains his composure, probably because I admitted I'd leave with him.
"Are you sure?" Blake asks me, his eyes staring into mine, something so dangerous and unsettling about his gaze.
"I'm sure," I lie, not being sure of anything at all, especially right now, with Archer hovering like he's going to kill anyone who even looks in my direction.
With a final sigh, Blake decides he doesn't want to take things further tonight and leaves me and Archer behind, my chest tightening at being this close, this alone with him. I rub my arms and avoid Archer as if he might disappear if I don't settle right on him.
He unzips his hoodie, sliding it off and revealing a black T-shirt and his tattooed arms. Archer doesn't even bother asking for my permission as he drapes it over my shoulders and shoves each of my hands through the sleeves.
I don't fight him because I am cold, and there's something about the way the fabric is still warm from his skin that does something to me.
Archer chuckles, almost to himself, but it’s enough I can hear it.
“What’s so funny?” I ask him.
“Nothing.”
“No, what is it? Share it with the class.”
Archer’s jaw tenses and he speaks, “You ruined my birthday.”
“What?”
“Today, it’s my birthday. I told you, you could ruin it, you know, since I ruined yours. And you did without even realizing it. It’s just kind of funny.”
“Oh,” I say. “I, uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s not a big deal.” Archer pauses. "Come on," he tells me, putting his hand on my back, but not too low, and guiding me back in the direction we came.
I stop, his feet coming to a halt, too.
"What is it?" he asks, his tone the softest it's been all night.
"I don't want to go home with you," I admit.
"You're not going home with me, London. I'm taking you home. There's a difference."
I continue walking, each of the photographers dropping their cameras upon our approach, Archer shooting each of them a threatening glance. We reach a motorcycle and that's when it hits me that Archer got here so quickly because he was on his stupid bike.
"I'm not getting on that thing, it's a deathtrap," I protest.
"You don't have a choice, London."
"I always have a choice, Archer."
"That's not what I meant, and you know it." Archer runs his hand through his long hair and grabs the helmet off the hook in the back, releasing it and spreading the straps wide. "I'm going to put this on your head, little tornado, and then I'm going to take you home. Okay?"
I motion at my dress. "Not in this. It'll get ruined."
"I'll buy you another one."
"There's only a few of them made."
"Five," Archer corrects me. "I'll buy the other four if it really matters to you."
"Fine. Put the damn helmet on." I stare at him as he does. "You should wear one of these, though. It's not fair that I have to and you don't."
"Would it make you feel better if I wore one?"
"Would you if I said yes?"
"I'd consider it." Archer tightens the strap under my neck and shuts the visor before throwing his leg over the bike and turning on the engine. It roars to life and I contemplate running away, but I know Archer would catch me quicker than I could get away.
I breathe in, hike the dress up, and step onto the back foot peg, using Archer's hand to help me climb onto the back seat. "These aren't exactly the right shoes for this," I tell him.
"Wrap your arms around me." Archer glances back. "Hold on tight."
I do what he says, using his instructions as an excuse to feel his body against mine. I hate that even after two months, I still hate and want him the same. I would have thought all that time would have made it fizzle out, but it's done nothing to ease the ache in my chest at how things ended.
Archer slides a pair of clear glasses onto his face, shifts the bike into gear, and eases onto the throttle.
He slips us into the traffic around the gala with great caution and only drives a few miles an hour over the speed limit the entire way back to the apartment complex we both live in.
He pulls us into the parking garage, and I have to remind myself that we’ve stopped and that I can take my arms off of him.
He helps me off the bike, removes the helmet, and pats down my hair.
His eyes meet mine and I regret ever leaving with him.
"I'm so fucking mad at you," I whisper.
"Good, then maybe that means there's still hope for us."