UNFAITHFUL

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Sara

"I changed my mind. I'm not going," I huffed, letting out a squeal as Emma slathered an ungodly amount of concealer under my eyes.

"I do not need that much!" I protested, trying to wiggle away.

"Yes, you do," Emma said solemnly, dabbing at my skin with ruthless precision. "You're pale, and those dark circles? Under the club lights, you'll look less like a partygoer and more like an extra from The Walking Dead."

"I don't want to go," I pouted, crossing my arms like a stubborn child. "It's been ages since I've been to a club."

Emma gave me a look—the kind that said she had absolutely no sympathy for my whining. "Exactly. Which is why you're going. Polluted air, loud music, bad decisions. It'll be good for you."

"Emma..." I sighed in frustration.

"Look," she said, her tone softer now. "It's been over two months since you separated from Cole, and I don't see you getting any better. If anything, you're burying yourself in work and refusing to actually live. You didn't even take a moment to enjoy your independence or celebrate being free from the world's worst scumbag."

"I'm not free of him yet," I countered. "We're not officially divorced."

"A piece of paper doesn't change the fact that you're already separated—body, mind, and soul. And that matters more."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "What exactly are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying it's time to get fresh blood."

I blinked. "You're telling me to date?"

"Yes," she said, casually moving on to my eye makeup. "But you don't have to look for one. I've already arranged a date for you."

"Huh?" I blinked, confused, and then it hit me. My eyes widened in horror. "Oh, my God. You're setting me up with Archie, aren't you?"

"Of course," she replied without hesitation, utterly shameless. "Mr. Archibald Lowe." Then she sighed dreamily as if she weren't casually trying to set me up with my—and Cole's—best friend.

"I could have found someone else for you," she continued while carefully lining my eyes, "but then he'd have to stand next to Archie, and, well... that poor guy would probably shrivel up from sheer intimidation."

"You do have the option of not inviting Archie to come with us," I pointed out, giving her a pointed look.

Emma snorted. "Oh, please. Why wouldn't I bring the hottest, most eligible guy we know?" She smirked. "If we're going out, we might as well have someone who's basically a walking VIP pass."

"You're taking advantage of him," I frowned.

"Stop moving! I'm about to put mascara on you," she scolded, then added shamelessly, "And of course I am."

She flicked the wand expertly before continuing, "Oh, and Archie's bringing his brother, too. Apparently, Julian sulked about being left home alone."

I chuckled, easily picturing Julian pouting like a neglected puppy.

Julian looked so much like Archie—same hair color, same face—they could almost pass for twins. But Archie always insisted Julian was the prettier version of him. They also shared a love for tattoos, both covered in ink and even dressed so similarly that it sometimes felt like they were doing it on purpose to confuse people.

But while Archie was quiet and reserved, Julian was a riot.

"Done," Emma declared, leaning back to examine her work with a critical eye. She tilted her head, scrutinizing every detail before nodding in satisfaction. "Not bad. Actually, pretty damn good."

She grabbed my chin, turning my face slightly from side to side. "Flawless. I'll be seriously offended if you don't get at least three free drinks tonight."

I rolled my eyes.

Emma just grinned shamelessly as she grabbed the lipstick. "Alright, pucker up."

I groaned. "Do I have to wear the red one?" I was used to wearing nude shades—or, better yet, nothing at all.

She gave me a look. "Unless you want to walk into that club looking like you just licked a chalkboard, yes."

Sighing in defeat, I let her apply the lipstick, pressing my lips together when she was done. She clapped her hands, beaming. "Perfect. Now, go put on that dress before I do it for you."

I hesitated. "Can't I just—"

"No," she cut me off, pointing toward the little black dress that was spread on my bed. "Move it."

With another dramatic sigh, I dragged myself toward it, muttering under my breath. Emma was enjoying this way too much.

Stomping my way over, I grabbed the dress and started changing while Emma focused on fixing her makeup. Once I was done, I slipped on my black strappy heels, adjusting the straps just as my phone, lying on the bed, buzzed.

I glanced at the screen, Cole's name flashing.

"Cole again?" Emma asked, arching a brow.

I nodded.

"He's been calling and texting you nonstop lately."

"Yeah..."

A new message popped up on my screen. I sighed and opened it.

"Hey baby, I miss you. Please pick up my call. I really need to talk to you. Can I come over?"

As always, I ignored him.

A few seconds later, another text appeared.

"Please, baby. I have something important to tell you. Let me see you."

"Is he bothering you at the office, too?" Emma asked.

"I've been out of the office a lot these past few days, but Dona said he's been coming by every day looking for me."

"Does he still live with her?" Emma asked, suddenly looking absolutely livid.

"I talked to Bobby," I said, exhaling. "She told me he's been staying in the extra room upstairs. He says it's for the baby."

"You don't believe that, do you?" Emma growled.

I looked up at her. "It doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Remember that, always."

The doorbell rang loudly from downstairs, echoing through the house.

"That must be Archie and Julian," Emma said, giving herself one last glance in the mirror.

"Is Ben coming?" I asked, standing up. Ben and Emma had been quite the thing these past few months. Probably getting serious now that Emma had officially moved back to town. She was practically splitting her time between Ben's place and mine.

"He's out of town, coming back tomorrow," Emma said as she headed for the door. "Let me get that. You finish up."

"Okay," I muttered, giving myself one last look in the mirror. And I flinched.

I looked... different.

The makeup was flawless, and the little black dress hugged me like a second skin, the silky fabric tracing every curve. Thin straps barely held it in place, while the plunging neckline dipped lower than I usually dared, revealing just enough to make me grimace. The hemline skimmed dangerously high on my thighs, and the slit on the side climbed even higher, teasing with every step. It was bold. Maybe too bold.

The heels were supposed to boost my confidence, but as I stared at my reflection, I couldn't tell if I liked what I saw or just felt like a version of someone else.

One thing was certain—my cleavage was way too out there.

What the hell was I thinking, letting Emma convince me to buy this dress?

For a moment, I hesitated, thinking about changing into something else, but eventually sighed and decided to go with it even though I wasn't entirely convinced.

I stepped out of my room and padded downstairs.

Archie and Julian stood by the entrance, both staring at me, mouths ajar.

I frowned. "What?"

Suddenly, I felt self-conscious. Had I overdressed? I resisted the urge to tug at the plunging neckline, already second-guessing my choices.

It took a few more seconds before Archie finally seemed to snap out of it. He walked over, gently taking my arm and steering me away from Julian and Emma. Then, leaning close, he whispered,

"Would I be wrong to say you don't look entirely comfortable?"

"Well..." I began, searching for an excuse, but eventually just sighed. "Not really."

He pulled back slightly, eyebrows scrunching. "Then why are you wearing it?"

"I..." I opened my mouth, searching for a reason, but came up empty. "I actually don't know."

"You look hot, by the way, but you should wear whatever feels right for you," he said, then added with a teasing grin as he flicked my nose gently, "You'd look hot in anything, Peaches, trust me. You don't even have to try."

I met his gaze for a moment, but the intensity in his eyes made my breath catch. Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I glanced away, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"You're right," I said, keeping my gaze down. "I'm not comfortable. I'll go change."

I sprinted up the stairs to my room, rifling through my closet until I settled on a black sleeveless top and a black leather miniskirt. Still stylish but with far less risk of a wardrobe malfunction.

Making sure no excessive cleavage was on display, I slipped back into my heels and moved to the mirror, pulling my hair into a sleek, tight ponytail.

Satisfied with how I looked, I headed back downstairs.

When he saw me, Archie's smile held quiet satisfaction, as if he had always expected me to make this choice.

Emma frowned at me at first, then shrugged. "Yeah, your choice is better than mine," she admitted.

I grinned at her as I walked to Julian and wrapped my arms around him. "Hey, stranger."

"Hey, gorgeous," he replied softly, hugging me back. "I like this look on you better."

"Me too," I said before pulling away. "When did you get back?"

"A few days ago," he said.

"All body parts safe?" I asked, eyeing him carefully. His arm was severely injured the last time he came home—a broken bone and deep scratches; it looked like a bear had mauled him. Well, maybe he had. I wouldn't be surprised if he was hiding another injury now.

"All safe, ma'am," he said with a grin.

"Good." I nodded, grinning back.

"Shall we?" Archie asked.

"Yes!" Emma shouted, bouncing on her feet with excitement.

Archie extended his hand toward me. "Come on, let's go and have some fun."

We all stepped outside, and I locked the door behind me. Julian and Emma quickly claimed the backseat of Archie's car while I slid into the front.

The moment the car took off, Emma wasted no time reminding Julian how many drinks he could have tonight, still holding onto the memory of the last time we went out—when security had to drag him out.

"That was three fucking years ago, Emma!" Julian exclaimed. "I can't believe you still remember that!"

"Of course, I remember," Emma shot back. "How could I forget? It was humiliating! You climbed onto a table, knocked over an entire tray of drinks, and had to be carried out like a damn sack of potatoes."

I bit my lip to keep from laughing as Archie chuckled beside me.

Julian huffed. "That table was way too wobbly. Not my fault."

"Oh, so now it's the table's fault?" Emma scoffed.

"Yes! Cheap furniture is a serious hazard," Julian said defensively. "Honestly, I should've sued."

Emma let out an exaggerated sigh. "That kind of stupid thought is exactly why you have a drink limit tonight."

Julian muttered something under his breath, crossing his arms, and I couldn't help but laugh. This was going to be an interesting night.

Archie glanced at me, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You look absolutely stunning tonight, Peaches. I might have trouble keeping all those guys away from you."

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks again.

And I couldn't quite understand it. Why was I blushing so much around him suddenly?

For the rest of the ride, I kept my gaze averted from Archie, afraid I might blush again. Julian and Emma kept up their playful banter in the background while I lost myself in my thoughts.

I felt that something had shifted tonight. Something about the way I saw Archie.

He had always been gorgeous—beautiful face, tall and lean body, with that effortless swagger and coolness that made him the whole appealing package. Not that I was blind to it. Of course, I noticed.

But I'd always seen him as just a friend.

Now, though, I saw him in a slightly different light. Or maybe it was his focused attention on me that felt different.

Or perhaps he'd always been like this, and I'd simply been too oblivious to notice.

Archie had been my constant through the hardest phase of my life. He gave me space but never let me feel alone. He always offered to drive me to the office or pick me up in the evening, yet he never pushed me when I declined. He had an instinct for my needs, knowing when I craved solitude and when I needed company. But through it all, he remained respectful, kept his distance, and never once overstepped.

Now, however, I was noticing subtle hints—things I hadn't paid attention to before—that suggested otherwise.

When Emma decided to stay, she took a week to pack her belongings. In the meantime, I asked Archie to keep me company. He stayed, never overstepping, always keeping his distance, sleeping in the guest bedroom, just as he always did. But his presence alone made it easier to breathe.

Then Emma returned. I wasn't alone anymore.

That was when Archie looked at me and asked carefully, "Do you still need me now that Emma's here?"

I instantly panicked. My chest tightened, my stomach twisted, and suddenly, the thought of him walking away, of him not being here anymore, sent a jolt of fear through me.

And before I could think, I blurted out, "Why do you ask that?"

It came out too sharp, too loud, almost like a desperate accusation rather than a simple question. And the moment the words left my lips, I saw something restrained flicker in his eyes.

He hesitated, his jaw tightening just slightly before he let out a small chuckle. "No reason, Peaches," he said lightly. "Just checking."

The relief that washed over me was almost overwhelming.

Lately, he'd been giving me more space, more time away from him. I knew he thought it was what I needed. But then I realized, I didn't need space.

I needed him .

I needed him to be there for me because, sometimes, it was so damn hard to keep standing. I needed someone solid, someone strong. Someone who could be my source of strength.

And Archie was it. He was my source of strength.

I wasn't sure when it happened. When the lines blurred between reliance and something else.

"We're here," Archie said, his voice pulling me from my thoughts as he stopped in front of the valet section.

We all shuffled out of the car and waited while Archie took the ticket from the attendant. Then, he reached out his hand to me. "Stick with me, Peaches. It's going to be jam-packed in there."

I looked at his hand, then up at his face, before placing my hand in his, and smiled at him.

Emma linked her arm through Julian's, and he immediately shifted into protective mode despite the nonstop banter they'd had in the car.

Pulse . The name suited the place. The club was packed wall to wall with sweaty, moving bodies, the music loud enough to feel in my bones. Colored lights flashed overhead, cutting through the dim haze.

Archie tightened his grip on my hand, guiding me through the packed space. The air was thick with heat and the sharp scent of alcohol, bodies brushing past as we moved deeper into the club.

Emma and Julian followed behind us, their voices barely discernible over the relentless thrum of the bass. I couldn't tell if they were arguing or just caught in their usual back-and-forth, but either way, Julian kept Emma close, his arm securely wrapped around her waist.

Archie leaned in, his breath warm against my ear, making me shiver. "Want to head to the bar first, or do you need a minute to breathe?"

"Bar's fine," I said.

His fingers flexed around mine briefly before he led the way, but before I could move, Emma tapped my shoulder, shouting over the music. "Do you want to dance? Julian wants to dance!"

"I think I'll grab a drink first!" I shouted back, as I always needed a little liquid courage before stepping onto the dance floor.

I glanced at Julian, who wiggled his brows at me before tugging Emma's hand, already urging her toward the dance floor. She rolled her eyes but let him pull her along, laughing as they disappeared into the crowd.

Chuckling, I shook my head and turned to face Archie.

"What do you want to drink?" he asked.

"What are you getting?" I countered.

"Just beer," he replied. "I'm driving."

"Oh yeah, right. Get me one of those too."

I leaned against the bar while Archie stood behind me, his presence solid, almost protective as if shielding me from the crowd pressing in. Over the top of my head, he ordered our drinks, and the bartender handed him two cold bottles almost instantly. He passed one to me, the condensation cold against my fingers.

Then, he leaned down, his voice low in my ear, giving me goosebumps. "Don't you want to dance?"

I glanced toward the dance floor, where bodies moved in sync with the pounding beat, lost in the rhythm. Archie hated dancing. I knew that. I'd been to clubs with him enough times to know he avoided it when he could. And yet, he was asking.

I turned to him, tilting my head. "Do you want to?"

He sipped his beer, his eyes soft on mine. "Only if you do."

The music thumped through the club, a steady pulse that vibrated in my chest. I wasn't sure what came over me, but as I took another sip of my beer, I set the bottle down and turned to Archie.

"Let's dance."

I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the dance floor, weaving through the crowd. As we moved, I couldn't help but notice the way heads turned, girls stealing glances, their eyes trailing after Archie.

Probably wondering what someone cool and edgy like him was doing with a cookie-cutter girl like me.

On the dance floor, the crowded space left me no choice but to stand so close to him. I wasn't sure what made me do it, but I let my hands press against his chest, solid and warm beneath my palms, the bass thrumming through him. I looked up at his handsome face, searching beyond his features, wanting to see into his mind, his heart, trying to understand what he truly felt for me.

Our eyes stayed locked as my hands slowly trailed up to his neck, my fingers linking behind it. His breath hitched, but he didn't touch me. His arms stayed rigid at his sides, though his gaze remained soft, fixed on mine.

Then, I moved.

He followed.

I pressed closer, drawn in by him. By the quiet sense of safety that surrounded me, even in the middle of a crowd of strangers. By his scent—delicious and familiar, grounding me in a way I didn't quite understand. By the way, he made me feel like, to him, I was the only one who mattered. The only one in the room.

He leaned down, his face near my shoulder, his breath warm as it ghosted over my skin. A shiver ran through me, delicate yet consuming, like a slow-burning flame spreading beneath my skin. He took a deep breath, and somehow, I felt it, like a ripple passing through me, stirring something deep inside. It was intense and electric. Although we weren't touching, we weren't kissing. And yet, the emotions it evoked made it feel as if we were.

That was when it hit me.

I didn't see him as just a friend anymore.

Archie had become more. So much more.

Then I felt his hands on my waist. Tentative, as if he were unsure whether he should touch me at all.

I pressed closer, silently telling him it was okay. That I wanted him to hold me.

He got the message.

His hands slid around my back, pulling me in as we moved together. Our bodies swayed slowly in contrast to the wild, pulsing beat around us. In a room full of frenzy, we found our own rhythm. One that belonged only to us.

I didn't know how long we danced—minutes, hours; it didn't matter. Eyes closed, I let myself sink into the moment, into him.

When I opened them again, I pulled him down, pressing my lips softly to his jaw. A quiet test, a question without words. My heart pounded in my ears, nerves and hope tangling together as I waited, desperate to know if I'd read him right. If he wanted this, too. If he wanted me .

I heard him sigh, a quiet, shuddering breath, before pulling me even closer. Then, in a whisper, he said, "Sara... what are you doing to me?"

His voice was raw, almost pained as if he was fighting something within himself. Something neither of us dared to name.

I whispered his name, the only word I could manage. Too many emotions surged inside me. He nuzzled his nose against my temple, and a soft whimper escaped me—I couldn't help it.

"You have no idea how hard this is for me, Sara."

Another sigh, heavier this time. "But we can't do this."