42. My Only One
forty-two
My Only One
Liam
“You don’t think he’d do anything, do you?”
“Hmm?” asks Archer.
“Marsden.” It’s the third time I’ve had to repeat what I’m saying. Archer’s distracted, and has been all the way home. Maybe this is all too much for him, too fast.
Of course it is. It must be.
But he’s been so steadfast and seemed so keen to help me.
“No, he’s not going to hurt you,” he answers vaguely. “I’m very sure of that.”
“How can you know?” I search his face, sidelong, and he, again, keeps his eyes on the road. Very purposefully, it feels like.
I’ve asked him twice already what he stayed back to talk to Marsden about, and both times he’s dodged it with some weird excuse about ‘just making sure’ he was going to call.
There’s something up, but I can’t put my finger on it. What can have happened in that room that’s set him so quiet and thoughtful? Did Marsden say something about me? Convince him Jem’s really that awful? And that I, by association, am that awful?
When he pulls up a little way from my door, in the usual spot, I ask him to drive on. Drive right in front of my building this time.
“This is where I actually live,” I explain when he stops. “I was… embarrassed to tell you before.”
I’m still embarrassed now. He’s told me how much trouble he had holding down jobs in the past, so I know, logically, he must have struggled financially too.
But I can’t help but think of that huge farmhouse, the nice clothes he pulled on before we left, as if everything he owns must be expensive, this car, even if I know how he got it…
It all feels like there’s a gap between us, like once he finds out the truth, that will be it for me. All over.
Maybe that’s why I’ve brought him here. Maybe I’m trying to push him to some kind of breaking point. Strip away any illusions he might have had about who I am so I don’t feel like I’m trapping him somehow.
“I was going to ask…” I start, ten times more anxious now than when the thought popped into my head half an hour ago.
“My mother’s working a late shift tonight.
And she’s not home. And I-I know you need to get back home.
At some point. And I don’t want to keep you. But Gerald gave me another bonus—”
“Did he?” He looks so surprised. So pleased.
“Yeah, he did.” I laugh, perhaps a little nervously. “Before we found out he’s probably evil.” Then I frown. And he frowns. “But anyway, I have it, and maybe… Do you want to come in for dinner or something? Just some delivery? We could get… a pizza? And just…”
I was hoping he’d cut me off here. Jump in with an enthusiastic yes. But instead, he scans the clock on the dashboard. It is getting on, to be fair.
“You don’t have to.”
“I really want to.” The way his lips curve down suggests otherwise.
“It’s okay.”
“I’d love to. I just. Um. I need to get back. To my ghosts.”
Heat floods my face. I really wish he couldn’t see it. “Oh, okay. Sorry.”
He snaps my hand up the second I try to leave. “Liam… There’s nothing I’d rather do more than spend the evening with you. It’s just… um…”
Why is he being like this? A few hours ago we were great.
The lines heavying his brow don’t lift. If anything, they deepen when he asks, “Is it okay if I just come in for an hour? Or two?”
My heart actually jumps. I think I’m officially pathetic. “Yeah. Of course.”
I pull the door open and escape as quickly as possible, as if delaying my exit might give him time to rethink his decision.
Maybe that’s why I also keep a few steps ahead of him all the way in.
Up the smelly and stained stairs, along the landing beneath broken fluorescent light casings full of dead insects.
I fumble the keys at the door, but I eventually manage to unlock both deadbolts then step inside.
It’s so small. There’s the one living area, no dining area, we just eat at the coffee table. The small kitchen is attached. Then my bedroom, my mum’s bedroom, and the tiniest bathroom in history.
It’s tidy. I made it nice before I left this morning. Not to bring Archer over, just so my mum would have a better day. She cleans enough as it is.
“So we can get pizza,” I suggest, then turn back, and his lips land on mine. His arms come around me, and I absolutely melt. Melt straight into him. I needed this kiss so badly. I’ve needed it for hours now. More than anything, I needed to know he still feels the same.
He breaks the kiss, then whispers breathlessly, “I adore you, Liam.”
“Adore?” The word falls out of me on a tremor. A beautiful word. A word that gets used in the old ITV Regency dramas my mum still puts on her ancient DVD player. A word that’s beautiful and romantic. A word I thought was beyond me. Out of my reach forever. Especially this evening.
That single word pushes me over the edge. I drop my forehead to his chest, sink into him, lose myself in the kiss that falls on my hair. “You don’t know what it’s meant to me, these last few days. Meeting you.”
“I think I do,” he whispers.
“Everything was so bad. So bad for so long. And meeting you… it’s like the first bit of light in this darkness.” I steal another kiss, then search his eyes. Eyes that look… sad. Why does he look so sad?
Why not, I guess. I feel sad. I feel sad because of this whole awful day, everything that’s been dredged up.
All this death and horror. But I also feel happy.
So, so happy I met him. I know what’s coming for me in the morning.
How hard that phone call is going to be.
I’m steeling myself for it. For whatever else might happen. But Archer’s here with me now and…
“You feel like a future,” I whisper to him, taking a chance I didn’t see myself taking ten minutes ago.
But I can’t stop the words. They pour out of me.
“I feel like… like the whole world is breaking down around me. And like it has been for a really long time. But not you. You’re this one strong, impenetrable force.
I’ve just never met anyone who had my back the way you do.
I didn’t even know people like you existed. ”
His forehead shakes against mine, and maybe I’ve gone too far. I think I’ve gone too far.
“I know this is crazy. That it’s too soon.”
“No,” he whispers. “It’s not.”
“I’m just really happy I’m your boyfriend. That’s all I’m trying to say.”
He makes a sound deep in his chest, like I’ve just punched him. When I look up, his eyes are as hazy as mine.
“Honey…” He kisses me softly. It’s long, and he takes my face in both his hands so tenderly.
“I’m scared to tell you how I’m feeling.
If you think that’s too much, you haven’t even scratched the surface.
I can’t tell you how lonely I was. What it’s been like, all my life.
I’ve never met anyone I could trust, not just to keep my secret, but to see past it.
To see me, who I really am beneath it. And you…
you just walked in my door like none of that matters.
Took every single weird, stupid, horrible, ridiculous thing in your stride. You barely even blinked.”
“It’s been a big week,” I joke.
He laughs, then kisses me again. “And you’re funny. And you’re sweet. And there…” He turns serious again, a deep serious, like he was in the car. “There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for you. And I mean that. Whatever happens next, between us, I hope you can keep that in your heart.”
His hand lands on my chest, right over my heart, and I wrap my palm to cover it as he says, “Keep me in there, and keep these words in there. I want you. Don’t ever doubt that.
Don’t ever doubt me or my intentions. Because I’m promising you now, it’s all for you, every single thing I do, from here on out. ”
It should be too much—I know that logically. But it’s not. He’s filling me up, all the lost and lonely places that stayed empty all these years, and Archer is making everything full and real and rich and warm.
I don’t want pizza now. And I hope he doesn’t either. There’s only one thing on this planet that will satisfy me. “Can I shower so fast?”
He cracks that beautiful smile. “You are slightly covered in… whatever that thing was that you blasted.”
I glance down at my overalls, guiltily sliding off his coat. “I’ll get this cleaned for you.”
“No, you won’t.” He scoops it up, throwing it over the arm of the sofa. Then his eyes drop, and the way he looks at me… I can’t believe I thought for a moment he was losing interest. “I hope, when you’re done in there, you’ll forget your shirt again. Just for a while.”
I try to repress the flattered smile, but it’s impossible. Instead, I step closer and let my hand trail down to his belt. “You know… you also kind of got splatted back there.” There isn’t a speck on him. He must have washed incredibly quickly when he got changed. It’s worth a try, though.
He isn’t slow to catch my suggestion. “I wouldn’t mind refreshing. If there’s room for two.”
“I’ll make room.” And with that, I grab his belt and wrench him towards my tiny bathroom.
Did I mention tiny?
I’m trying not to think about it, just pull him along with me as I walk backwards, as we kiss, as we stumble and slam into the wall. But we don’t stop. I don’t think we could even if we wanted to.
He unclicks the one buckle that’s been holding my overalls up all day, and they slip straight to the floor, pooling around my feet. I almost fall over in my rush to step out of them, but his warm arms come around me, steadying me.
Pressing fingers into him for stability, I kick my discarded clothing through the open door of my bedroom, then pull him along, barely escaping his embrace to keep moving.
If I had the flat to myself, I’d let him keep going right there against the wall.
Especially against the wall. I’ve never been fucked against a wall.
I think I need to add that to my list of life goals that’s only started forming since I met Archer. He’s definitely strong enough to do it.