Chapter Eight
Archer
“Archer!”
I jolt out of sleep and blink as Beth shakes my shoulder.
“Wake up,” she says urgently. “Jude’s coming.”
I sit up, my mind a ball of fuzz. I’m in my bedroom but Beth’s here. The two things don’t match. I feel as if I’ve wandered into one of the many dreams I’ve had featuring her in this room. Have I conjured her up out of my longing and desire?
Then my brain reboots and my head clears, and everything comes flooding back. Beth and Jude breaking up, seeing her at the bar, bringing her home, talking for hours, kissing her, making love to her.
Wait—Jude’s coming here?
Beth is hurriedly getting dressed. I toss the duvet aside and get up. “How long?”
She does her bra up, then tugs on her top.
“I don’t know. Five minutes? He texted and said he was at home and asked if I was okay.
I said you’d picked me up from the bar and I’d spent the night here.
And he said he’d come and pick me up. I tried to put him off, but he didn’t answer, so I think he’d already left. ”
They only live a few minutes from here. I glance at her as I pull on my boxers and a pair of track pants from the wardrobe. “Does he know?”
She shakes her head and looks away.
I don’t say anything as I retrieve a fresh tee and put it on, and she does up her cut-downs. I have no idea how she’s feeling, and now isn’t the time to ask.
We head to the door at the same time, and I stand back and gesture for her to precede me.
She slips past me without looking at me and walks toward the living room.
I turn left, go into the master bedroom, and retrieve the duvet and a pillow from the spare bed.
Quickly, I take them into the living room, throw them on the sofa, and arrange them to make it look as if she’s just gotten up.
“We’ll say you fell asleep here,” I tell her. “I’ll get some coffee on.”
She’s standing in the middle of the room, looking bereft. I pause, knowing how hard this is for her.
“It’s not that I regret it,” she says softly.
“I know.”
“It’s just… I don’t want him to find out like this…”
“Neither do I.”
She frowns, maybe only then remembering that he’s my best friend, as well as her boyfriend.
Last night, I think Beth and I both felt that our feelings for one another were nothing to do with Jude.
This morning, though, we’ve realized that all three of us are inextricably linked.
He might have broken up with her last night, but that doesn’t mean that what we’ve done isn’t going to hurt him.
And, knowing him and how outspoken he is, I suspect he might regret what he said. He might want her back.
Will she go back to him? There’s no way of knowing right now.
“You might want to do something about your hair,” I say, stifling an inappropriate urge to laugh.
She lifts her hands to the wild mop that I ran my hands through repeatedly last night, curses under her breath, and retrieves an elastic from her pocket.
As I go into the kitchen and start making three cups of coffee, she scrapes her hair back and fastens it into a severe bun.
Last night, her light-brown skin was flushed with happiness and pleasure.
Today, she looks wan and miserable, and my heart sinks.
I’ve contributed to her unhappy state, and I feel a wash of shame.
I’m just steaming the milk when I see Jude’s Toyota turn onto the drive, and he pulls up in front of the house.
I glance at Beth. She’s breathing fast, and she presses her fingers to her mouth and glances at me.
“I think I’m going to throw up.” Before I can say anything, she turns and runs off along the corridor, back to the bedroom.
Shit.
Jude knocks on the door and tries the handle, but I haven’t unlocked it yet. “Hold on,” I yell, and I put the milk jug down and go over to the door. My heart races as I turn the key, and I take a deep breath as I open it. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his shoulders hunched.
“Come in.” Acting as natural as I can, I walk back to the kitchen, and Jude follows me in, closing the door behind him.
“I’m just making coffee,” I call.
“Cool.” He stops by the breakfast bar and looks around. “Where is she?”
“Bathroom.” I nod toward the sofa. “She slept there.”
He nods, looking down the hallway, and he twitches as if he’s about to go down there and find her.
“I’d leave her for a minute,” I say calmly. “She drank quite a lot last night, and she said she was feeling queasy.”
He snorts. “She’s never been able to hold her drink.”
“Neither can you.” My tone is unusually sharp, but I can’t help it. I don’t like him talking about her like that.
But he just says, “Yeah, you’re right,” his lips twisting.
I pour the milk over the espresso in the three cups, then push his cup over to him. He takes it and studies it for a moment. Then he says, “I want to apologize.”
“What for?”
“Last night. You tried to help, and I was rude. I’m sorry.”
I shrug, leaning back on the counter as I sip the coffee. “Don’t worry about it. You’d just broken up with Beth. It made sense that you were upset.” I can’t help myself—I have to remind him.
He runs a hand through his hair and heaves a big sigh. “Yeah.” He sips his coffee.
I frown. “Are you here to take it back?”
“I don’t know. We need to talk about it.” He looks up at me over the rim of his cup. “How is she? Is she angry?”
“No… I don’t think so.” Inside, I battle with myself as to what to say. My head hurts, and I feel a huge mixture of emotions—guilt, sadness, joy, rebelliousness, resentment, and frustration. What a fucking mess.
If there’s even the slightest chance that he and Beth might get back together, it makes what we did last night cheating.
Doesn’t it? Or does it? I think about Ross and Rachel in Friends, and their eternal argument about being ‘on a break.’ This feels different, because last night Beth and Jude both seemed convinced it was over.
But even if they were, Jude would be justified in being hurt that his girlfriend and his best friend slept together, as if we were just waiting for the moment to betray him.
“Did she tell you why we broke up?” he asks.
I nod slowly. “She mentioned that she wants a family, and you don’t.”
He stares moodily into his coffee. “It’s not that I don’t want kids at all. It’s the process. It’s literally killed Simon, and I don’t want to be in that position.”
I refrain from pointing out that it hasn’t literally killed Simon. This isn’t the time to be a grammar Nazi. “I know what you’re saying. But no relationship is trouble-free. When you love someone you need to work through problems like this together.”
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, all right, Mr. Therapist.”
Anger sears through me. I could have played this so differently, and put my own feelings above his.
I could have told Jude as soon as he walked through the door that I slept with Beth last night.
I could have made it clear that I want her, and I don’t care how he feels about it, because he’s hurt her, and nobody hurts the girl I love.
Instead, I’m pretending last night didn’t happen, even though it was the best thing that’s happened to me for years.
I’m making that sacrifice for him, and he chooses to mock me for it.
“Well, fuck you,” I snap before I can think better of it.
His eyebrows slowly rise. “What?”
I hesitate, but I’ve gone too far already, so I might as well let the rest out. “You had the perfect girl, and you blew it, you fucking idiot. I’m trying to help, but if you’re going to throw it back in my face, well, screw you.”
He stares at me, and he’s still staring at me when Beth walks into the living room. She stops in the doorway and looks from me to him, then back again. “What’s going on?”
Jude turns and sees her. Then, to my surprise, his lips curve up. “Archer’s bollocking me for being a twat.” He sighs and turns back to his coffee. “He’s probably right.” He sips it moodily.
I meet Beth’s gaze, completely speechless. I can’t believe those words came out of my mouth.
Beth obviously sees because she gives me a small smile as she walks toward the breakfast bar. I push her coffee over to her, and she picks it up, then sits on a bar stool, about three feet from Jude.
“Well, isn’t this grown up and civilized?” She sips her coffee. Her tone is wry, but her hand is shaking. She’s hating this as much as I am.
I clear my throat and push off the counter. “I should leave you two alone.”
“No,” she says quickly. “Don’t go.”
I hesitate awkwardly. I’d rather be anywhere else than here right now. My weakness has led us to this place, and I’ve ruined things for both of us.
But she looks up then and meets my gaze, just for a moment, and her eyes are filled with warmth and affection, not accusation.
Not pain. I try to get a grip on my swinging emotions.
Their relationship was broken before last night; she made that very clear.
I haven’t broken them up. Last night was solace for her, and comfort, and I think she did it with an open heart.
But I’m going to have to wait to see if it was anything more than that.
“We should go home,” Jude says to her. “We need to talk.”
“What’s there to talk about?” she asks. “You made your position very clear yesterday.”
“I know, but I need to clarify some things.”
She has a mouthful of coffee, then puts her cup down and pushes it away.
She splays her hands on the table and studies them while she thinks.
Then she looks at him. “I don’t want to talk right now.
I need some time to clear my head, and to think.
” She gets to her feet and picks up her purse.
“I’m going to walk down to the house and get some of my things.
I’d like you to give me twenty minutes or so before you go back home. ”
“Where will you go?” he asks.
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Beth—”