Chapter 7 #2
“No, no, no. I just like the idea of sneaking around. Doing it on a train or in a movie theater or something. It sounds exciting.”
“Besides,” I add, “making people in public watch is nonconsensual. Exhibitionism implies consent.”
“Listen to this guy,” Archer jokes. “Now he sounds like someone who owns a sex club.”
Freya giggles, making me smile as I shake my head. “All I’m saying is that I get what Freya means…and it sounds right up your alley. She wants to break the rules. Have sex where she’s not supposed to. Just like you…she wants to make something legal illegal.”
He winks at her. “I like the sound of that.”
“Actually,” I say, lifting my head. “If you think about it, we’re not all that different.
Archer is into domination. Freya likes the idea of sex anywhere, anytime.
And I like the idea of having power over someone in a way that would grant me access to them anywhere, anytime. We’re sort of all the same.”
Archer leans back against the wall, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of us. “I guess that means we’re perfect for each other then.”
No one says anything as that hovers in between us. It doesn’t feel wrong. Or maybe I’ve been in this elevator too long.
The compartment is filled with loaded silence as we try to figure out where to go from here. What on earth do we speak about after that?
Suddenly, there’s a loud noise on the other side of the doors. We all tense just as light shines through, figures silhouetted as the doors of the elevator open. It’s like waking up from a dream. My body aches as I stretch my legs, moving to stand.
Archer and Freya are squinting the same, both staring in a daze as the building staff rush in.
I immediately notice the absence of celebration.
No one is exclaiming their excitement at being rescued.
And as much as I know we all need water and a restroom, I can’t help but feel slightly… disappointed.
Hell, maybe we are delusional.
“Monsieur, please. Let us help you up. We apologize, sir. Are you all right?”
Someone is tugging on my arm. Another person helps Freya to her feet, both Archer and I huddled close to her.
It’s hard to explain, but I feel this strange magnetic pull toward them both, as if I’ve been stuck in this small space for so long the absence of their warm bodies against mine causes an ache in my bones.
We stumble out of the elevator, and the staff fuss over us, grating on my nerves.
“We’re fine,” I snap, wishing they’d give me some space.
“How long were we in there?” Freya asks groggily.
“It’s very early,” one of the women says. “Half past five.”
My brows furrow as I try to do the math. “We were in there for twelve hours?”
Freya rubs at her forehead, and I notice the way Archer keeps a hand on her back as if she could fall over at any moment. Fatigue sets in, my body aching from sitting on that cold floor for so long. Why didn’t it feel more miserable while we were in there? My throat burns and my head hurts.
“I need water,” she mumbles, leaning on his arm. “And to use the restroom.”
“Come into my apartment,” Archer says.
The staff offer to call us a medic or take us to the hospital, but I shake them off. “We’re fine, really. Just get that fucking thing fixed.”
I’m too focused on Freya, watching her cling to Archer’s side as he leads her to his apartment down the hall. We were this close to his place the entire time.
When she looks back at me, expectation on her face, I realize I have no reason to stand here.
I’m only a few floors away from my own apartment.
A few moments ago, we were in that cramped space together, and things felt different, but now we’re out, and I’m not going to be the fool clinging to something that isn’t real.
Not bothering with a goodbye, I turn away from them and march toward the stairs, desperately eager to be in my home, alone again.
“Monsieur, are you sure you’re all right?” someone from the staff asks, hounding me with concern.
“For fuck’s sake,” I bark. “Leave me alone.”
I can practically feel Freya and Archer looking my way, but I don’t turn back. There’s a deep brewing irritation under my skin, and I just need to be by myself and clear my aching head. Slamming open the stairwell door, I start the climb up to the top floor.
My mind is still in a daze, like I’ve just woken up from a dream I can’t seem to shake.
For some reason, I think about Archer’s face when he spoke about the fighter he wants to find.
So much conflict behind those eyes. And the filthy, delicious way his voice made me feel when he spoke about his desire to mark someone.
And Freya’s dreamy expression when she talked about her restaurant. The cute, embarrassed way she looked when she admitted she’s a virgin.
Twelve hours in an elevator with complete strangers will fuck with your head, apparently. I desperately need to shake these two. A hard drink and a long nap should do it.
I make it up one flight of stairs before I start to wonder…what are they doing now? How long will she stay at his apartment? Does she feel safe with him? Should I have stayed?
Freya is my sister’s best friend. I am, in a sense, responsible for her safety now, aren’t I?
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath as I spin around and scurry down the stairs toward Archer’s floor. Tearing open the stairwell door, I march right down to the apartment I watched them disappear into.
Just before I knock, I hear laughter on the other side. My teeth clench, something about that annoying the fuck out of me as I bang my fist on the door.
“It’s probably the staff checking on us again,” Archer says on the other side just before he opens it.
I notice the way a smile plays on his lips as soon as he sees me standing here instead of the staff.
“I was wondering when you’d come back,” he says with so much smug arrogance I fight the urge to spew names at him.
Instead, I shove past him into his own apartment.
“Please, come in, Julian,” he mumbles behind me.
“I realized it wouldn’t be wise of me to just leave her alone with you. We don’t even know you. You’re a complete stranger.”
Freya is sitting on the kitchen counter, an empty glass clutched in her hands. Seeing her look so…content fills me with feelings I can’t describe. She was comfortable with him, happy even. I should be glad. I am glad.
The shiny black waves of her hair are now piled on the top of her head in a bun, and it bothers me how pretty she is. Men like Archer will no doubt swoop in and claim her, and I should let him. It’s not like I’m interested in her. With her stubborn pride and rebellious nature.
“Are we?” Archer asks, passing by me to go into his own kitchen.
“Are we what?” I ask with annoyance.
“Complete strangers?” He moves through his own kitchen with nonchalance, filling a glass with water from a pitcher. I give him a perplexed expression as he hands it to me.
As soon as I feel the cool glass in my hand, I realize just how parched I am, so without responding, I suck down the entire thing in one go.
“Of course we are,” I reply on my next breath. “I just met you yesterday.”
It’s Freya who speaks up next. With her hands clutching the counter under her, she gives me a gentle smirk. “Well, yeah, but…after last night, it doesn’t really feel like we’re strangers anymore.”
“It was twelve hours in an elevator. Stop acting like we bonded or something.”
I don’t miss the hint of disappointment on her face as she glances down at the floor.
When the room grows quiet, I glance around Archer’s apartment.
It’s smaller than mine but bears the same aesthetic.
Old-world embellishments and modern-day design.
What’s odd about Archer’s place is that it looks almost unlived in.
It could pass for a brand-new rental with how few personal belongings fill the space.
“The bathroom is the first door on the right,” Archer says, nodding toward the hall.
My eyes narrow at him, perturbed with the way he seems to read my mind or always knows what to say. He thinks he’s so goddamn smart.
Without a response, I tear off my coat and drape it over a nearby chair before heading down the hall he gestured to. When I return from the bathroom, feeling far more refreshed and relieved, I walk into the room and get this strange sense of comfort when I’m with them again.
What is happening to me? Why do I feel so stuck to these two all of a sudden?
The sooner I get Freya out of his apartment so I can return to mine without worry, the better. And yet…I lean against the opposite kitchen counter, arms crossed over my chest as I stare at them.
“Apparently, the power came back on late last night,” Archer says, amusement written in his features.
“What?” I ask. “So we were just stuck in there for no reason?”
“No,” Freya replies. “The elevator never came back on. They had to call out a technician.”
“Jesus.”
“Just…bad luck,” she adds.
There’s something about the way she says it, her eyes lingering on me.
“Yeah, especially since you weren’t even supposed to be there,” Archer says, his lips around the edge of a glass.
Freya is still staring at me with a guarded expression as she asks, “You’re not still going to get me fired from that job, are you?”
Of course not.
I never was.
Naturally, those aren’t the words that leave my mouth. That would be too telling. Instead, I pinch my brows together. “I’ll think about it.”
Her face tightens as she looks away. She was hoping I’d changed. That I’d warmed up to her in our twelve hours in a box. That I’m not really as coldhearted and cruel as she thought.
How could I let her think that?
Archer stays quiet, watching us with interest before he sets his glass down on the counter. “Well, I don’t know about you two, but I need a shower and my bed. You two are welcome to join me, but seeing as how Julian doesn’t think we’ve truly bonded, I’m assuming he’s not up for that.”