Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Town
“Poet,” Archer called out as he shut the truck door.
I looked up from digging around in my purse for my keys.
“Hey, Archer,” I greeted.
He jogged across Silver Street, holding my laptop bag in his hand.
“Why do you have my laptop?” I asked.
“Brooks didn’t call you?” he asked.
I frowned. “Maybe he did. I haven’t checked my phone recently.”
“Oh. He had to run to Coeur d’Alene for an errand and thought you might want your computer. He asked me to bring it back to you.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking the bag from him. I reached into my purse for my phone and saw that I had a missed call and voicemail from Brooks.
“Ah. Yep, he called. I was at the library,” I informed him. “My phone was on silent.”
“Gotcha.”
Brooks’ brother stood there for a moment, staring at me.
“Was there something else you wanted to talk about?” I fished.
“Yeah, actually. Sweet Teeth?”
“Nah, let’s go up to the apartment. I just got a table and chairs,” I said with a wry grin, “so there’ll be a place for you to sit.”
He smiled. “Okay, if you’re cool with that, I’ll follow you.”
I unlocked the front door of the store, and he trailed behind me through the empty room, toward the stairs. When we got to the landing, I unlocked the door and went inside.
I threw the keys on the counter and set my laptop bag down.
Archer stood in the doorway and looked around the apartment.
“Well, come on in,” I invited.
He trudged across the threshold and closed the door behind him.
“Can I get you something to drink? Water? Tea?”
“No, I’m good. I won’t be here long.”
“Should we sit?” I asked. “You look like whatever you’re going to tell me is serious.”
I gestured to the table. Archer pulled out a chair and sat, and I grabbed the other chair and faced him.
“This place suits you,” he said.
“You think?” I looked around. It was still barren, but maybe I could change that.
Maybe Brooks and I could change that.
“Look, I’m not one for beating around the bush, so I’m just going to come right out and say it.”
“Okay,” I said with a nod. “Go ahead.”
“I know my brother took you for a ride on the back of his motorcycle.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m guessing you don’t know what that means.”
“It means something?” I asked in confusion.
“Yeah. It means something. In our world. Our biker world. You know about the motorcycle club. Brooks said he told you about it . . .”
“Yeah, I know about the club. But you’re not a biker anymore, and neither is Brooks.”
“No, not technically,” he agreed. “But there are some things that have carried over, I guess.”
He paused for a second.
“Getting a woman on the back of your motorcycle is a really big deal. It means he wants you there for longer than just a night. You don’t just let any woman on the back of your bike. It’s a special place. Reserved for . . . for Old Ladies. An Old Lady is—”
“I know what an Old Lady is. He explained it to me.”
He sighed. “Brooks . . . he doesn’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“He doesn’t put a woman he just met on the back of his bike. In fact, a woman has never ridden on the back of his motorcycle. Ever.”
I’m special.
Warmth blasted through me, heating me from the inside out. Thawing me in places I hadn’t known were cold.
“He’s got some quirks, Poet.”
“He told me about his obsessive tendencies.”
“He did?”
I nodded.
“Okay. Well, that’s . . . that’s something. I know you just got to town, but if you’re not going to stay, set him free.”
“Set him free?” I repeated. “Do you think I trapped him?”
“No, I don’t think that at all. But Brooks has decided that you’re the one he wants to take care of.”
“Yes, that’s painfully obvious,” I said with a wry laugh. “The man has hardly left my side in the few days since we’ve met. It’s a little . . .”
“Terrifying?” he supplied.
“No, not terrifying. Just unusual, I guess.”
“Very unusual. Like I said, he doesn’t get attached. But with you he’s . . . I’ve never seen it, Poet. I just don’t want him to get hurt, and I think you could really hurt him.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Brooks is loyal for life,” he said. “It’s why he made such a great biker. It’s why he . . .”
“Took the fall for a brother?” I asked gently. “Yeah. I know about that too.”
He let out a long exhale. “Damn. I didn’t know if he’d told you yet. He’s telling you all sorts of things, isn’t he?”
“I guess.”
Archer shook his head. “If you’re going back to New York, please tell him now before he gets in even deeper. It might be too late for him already, but . . .”
“You want me to decide if I’m all in? Now? I’ve been here like three days.”
“Yes. I know it’s crazy,” he said. “But if you know you’re leaving you have to tell him. Don’t you think that’s fair?”
When I didn’t reply, he went on, “Brooks hasn’t had a lot of joy in his life.”
“He doesn’t let himself,” I murmured. “He’s too rigid for that. It’s not healthy.”
“No. It’s not,” he agreed. “Look, if you’re not going to stay, then let him go.”
I wasn’t ready to pour my heart out to Archer.
Not when I hadn’t even spoken to my best friends about Brooks.
About how fast things were moving between us.
About how I wasn’t scared of him. About how my entire life, I thought there had been something wrong with me because I couldn’t be intimate with a man, but how really, I was just waiting for the right one to make me feel safe and wanted.
And Brooks did that.
“I’ve given you a lot to think about,” Archer said. “So anyway, thanks for listening.”
He stood up, and I followed suit, and then I walked him to the door.
Archer looked like he wanted to say something else, but at the last moment, he closed his mouth, and with a slight wave, he left.
I closed the door after him and leaned against it.
I couldn’t stay in town for a man. I had to stay for me. Could I see a life here? With or without Brooks?
I was deep in research mode and making notes on my laptop when the front door opened.
Brooks strode in and closed the door behind him, setting the spare set of keys I’d given him on the counter. “Hey, Freckles.”
“Hey,” I said, pulling my gaze away from the screen to peer at him. I craned my neck because he was so tall. He took off his boots and left them by the door.
“Archer brought your laptop, I see.”
I nodded. “What time is it?”
“Past six.”
I blinked. “Six? Six p.m.?”
“Yeah.” He frowned. “How long have you been sitting there?”
“Three hours at least.” I shut the laptop and stood, groaning in pain. I stretched my arms over my chest and heard things pop.
“Seriously?” He stalked toward me and settled his large hands on my shoulders and began to massage them.
“Oh, God, that feels good.” My head lolled forward and I slumped against him.
Brooks pulled back but only so he could take my hand and lead me to the bed. “Sit.”
I plopped down, and he sat behind me and then his thumbs grazed my shoulder blades.
Another garbled sound of relief escaped my lips.
“So, what were you doing for hours hunched over your computer?”
I was quiet for a moment.
“Freckles?”
“If I say it out loud it becomes real,” I said. “And it might be the most insane thing I’ve ever thought of. But the idea kind of slammed into me today and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
“And you don’t want to tell me until you’re sure.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to tell you because I haven’t even told my friends yet and if I tell you first . . .”
“What?”
I looked at him over my shoulder. “It means . . . I don’t know what it means.”
“It means things are changing,” he said quietly. “And you’re not sure you want them to.”
I swallowed. “Things have already changed. Hadley and Salem . . . they might tell me and Wyn things, but we’re not the first ones they tell now. Because they have Declan and Cas.”
“I’ll listen,” he said. “And I won’t say anything. Not unless you want me to.”
“I can hardly keep it to myself.” I bit my lip. “You’ll really listen?”
He nodded.
“Okay,” I whispered, turning back around. “I’ll tell you, but only if you keep massaging me.”
He squeezed my shoulders.
And then I told him my dream.