Chapter 7
Seeing Archer’s name on my phone sent me into a panic. Grabbing the loose bed sheet that had fallen onto the floor, I fashioned it into a poorly executed toga around my body.
I couldn’t answer the phone naked.
I couldn’t answer the phone at all.
I held the device in a death grip, unsure of what to do.
Actually, that was a lie.
I knew what I wanted to do.
I wanted to throw my phone across the room, watching as it smashed to pieces against the wall, pretending I never saw it.
Except now the phone was ringing.
Jesus Christ, I think this was the first time Archer had ever worked this hard to talk to me.
The phone rang in my hand while I remained immobile, stuck staring at the screen. It wasn’t until the last ring before voicemail that I answered.
“Hello?”
“Jesus H. Motherfucking Christ, Mads.” Archer’s voice was a mixture of relief and frustration. Heavy sighs and harsh tones. “I thought something happened to you.”
“You did?” My brows furrowed. “Why?”
“Because I’ve been trying to call you since Dad’s thing ended and you haven’t answered.”
“Well, there is a time difference…”
“Cut the shit. Now’s not the time for your sass. I thought you were dead in the River Thames or worse.”
“What’s worse than being dead?”
He was silent on the phone before a string of curses opened fire in my ear. “Fuck, Madelayne. I shouldn’t have let you go by yourself. What the fucking hell was I thinking?”
Had I mentioned this very eloquent man ran his own business? A business very well on its way to being a Fortune 500 company in the next few years.
“I’m fine, Arch. Saint took me out for dinner and made sure I got back to the hotel safely.”
Nothing in my words gave way to anything.
That was what happened when you were the liar of your family. You learned to spin lies as truths. But the silence on the other end of the phone had me spiraling.
Did I give something away? My tone? My words?
“Did he make sure you got to your room, too?” Archer finally asked, his tone hard to read.
Treading carefully, I dragged out, “Yeaaah.”
His sigh of relief brushed my ear. “Good, good.”
He wouldn’t be saying that if he knew the depravity his best friend committed after making sure I got inside safely.
In the distance, I heard the shower turn off and another wave of trepidation clawed me.
What if Saint said something as he walked out of the bathroom, maybe even about me not joining him, and Archer heard? There’d be no way to hide Saint’s voice.
It was too rich, too distinguishable.
I had to get off this call now.
“Hey, Arch, I appreciate you checking in on me. You can see I’m not dead in the River Thames or worse, but I’m about to go get breakfast at a little cafe down the street, so I’ll talk to you?—”
“Wait, not so fast, Mads. You haven’t told me what you and Saint did. Did he show you a good time?”
My body warmed all over thinking about what a good time Saint showed me. I prayed like hell my voice didn’t reflect that. “I told you, we went to dinner.”
“Yeah, but where? Did you do anything after?”
My brows pulled together. Archer wasn’t one to go searching for more information than what was given to him. At least when it came to me. “Are you asking because you feel guilty for abandoning me?”
“Maybe…” He trailed off. “Maybe I should’ve told Dad to shove it. You shouldn’t have spent your birthday alone.”
“I didn’t spend it alone,” I reminded him the same time the bathroom door opened and Saint came out in nothing but a towel wrapped low around his waist. Was it suddenly warm in here? “I had Saint.”
He met my eyes with a furrowed brow. Who is that? he mouthed.
I didn’t want to answer, but I mouthed back, My brother.
The change was instantaneous.
Saint’s expression shut down as the room’s temperature took a dip. I shivered with the cold that descended between us.
It was always going to be a matter of time before that locked door couldn’t keep reality at bay. I only wished it lasted a little longer.
But now, without words being traded, I could feel it in my heart, my veins, my bones.
We were no more.
A knock at that very door captured our attention.
Breakfast had arrived.
“What was that?” Archer asked.
“Nothing,” I absently told him as Saint went to answer it.
He opened it just enough to grab the food without me being seen, but it was too late.
My brother’s call brought things to an end before we could. And now we had to shove ourselves back in the roles we always had.
“Mads—”
“I gotta go, Arch. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Answer the next time I call you.”
“Yep.” I hung up before he could say another word.
Saint placed the food on the table by the window.
I didn’t move toward it, no longer hungry.
No longer feeling a lot of things.
My tongue felt like sawdust watching Saint walk around the room, gathering his scattered clothes before heading back into the bathroom to change.
Less than an hour ago, he was fine with us being naked together. Now? He practically ran to put a divide between us.
Another door.
My arms wrapped around my stomach, twisted to the point of pain.
I shouldn’t have answered the call.
Except… Call or not, it wouldn’t have changed the fact that Saint was leaving today.
Back to Atlanta. Back to real life.
This was always coming to an end. I guess I just hadn’t realized it would feel this cold.
Saint came back, fully clothed in the wrinkled suit he wore last night.
My stomach twisted further.
He prowled around the hotel room, picking up his phone, keys, and wallet that all must’ve fallen out when he stripped his clothing off last night.
He was putting the phone in his pocket when it rang.
He cut me a glance before answering. As he did, I started a mental petition to ban cell phones. They did more harm than good.
“Hey, Arch.” Another glance my way, but it didn’t inspire butterflies fluttering. If anything, it turned them to stone.
I felt Saint’s struggle as he talked to my brother on the phone. He wouldn’t look at me, walked as far away as he could from me. The distance between us wasn’t just palpable by physical distance. I felt it in my bones.
Archer never abandoned Saint with the scandal of his father. He stood by his best friend and helped Saint fight his way out of the town that turned against him. Saint rewarded Archer with the fiercest friendship.
Brothers in all but blood.
Saint had always reminded me of a lion. Not just in the way he prowled when he walked, but in his loyalties. He was a fighter, a protector. A provider.
He was a believer in oaths, and there was an unspoken oath between dudes with younger sisters.
Thou shall not sleep with thy best bro’s sister.
But Saint broke that oath. Betrayed that loyalty.
And now he wouldn’t look at me.
“Yeah, it’s no problem,” Saint said nonchalantly as he gazed out the window. “Seriously, man. Don’t worry about it.”
The room was quiet as Archer talked.
Saint laughed, but I could hear the strain in it. Almost pained. “Trust me, getting laid was the last thing on my mind last night. I got plenty of that on this trip as well.”
Archer was probably apologizing for cockblocking him last night by sticking him with me. And Saint’s answer didn’t do anything to soothe the budding feelings inside me.
Pain. This was painful. Achingly so. We weren’t standing far from each other, but already I saw a chasm expanding between us.
“Yeah, I’ll see you for lunch when I get back.”
They exchanged goodbyes and hung up.
Saint braced his hand with the phone on the window, resting his head on his forearm. I moved toward him, seeing the pinched expression on his face. His thinned lips and tightly shut eyes.
The sight hurt most of all. Did he regret it?
I could handle a night with Saint if that was all life was going to give me, but I couldn’t handle Saint regretting it.
That would be the only thing to make what we did shameful.
“Saint.” I reached out to touch his back when he spun around and grabbed my arms, crashing his lips to mine in a violent need.
Saint hauled me to his chest, not allowing a speck of space between us. It was unlike any other kiss we had exchanged.
This one was almost cruel. Loathing mixed with selfish need. A tangle of bites and teeth and warring tongues.
Almost like he didn’t want to kiss me, but had to…one last time.
I clung to him, giving him everything he hadn’t already taken.
Saint pulled me closer, bringing me to the tips of my toes. His fingers slipped into my hair, tipping my head back for a deeper angle. My toes curled with it. But all too soon he was pulling away, stepping back.
“I have to get back to my hotel room, pack my things before leaving for the airport.”
Distance, more than physical, expanded between us.
“Right.” I crossed my arms to do something with them. “Safe travels.”
In unison, we moved toward the door.
“Thanks.” He fidgeted with his watch. Saint wasn’t one to fidget.
“I’ll see you when I get back to the States?” I meant it as a throwaway statement, something to fill the dead air between us, but it came out as an insecure question. I wanted to crawl into myself.
Saint stopped walking, sparing me a glance before playing with his cufflinks. “Of course.”
His answer was a throwaway. We both knew it.
I shifted on my feet. This was it. Nothing left to say between us but goodbyes.
He gave me one last smoldering look, one that reached my core.
This was it.
Our goodbye.
But it never came.
Saint barely glanced my way as he stepped into the hall.
The door shut behind him, leaving me hollow.
Nothing we’d done had made me feel cheap or used. Not until now.
He stayed the night but left without another glance.
Why?
I stared at the door long after he was gone.