32. Archer
Chapter thirty-two
Archer
Five Years Ago
P icking an outfit for karaoke should not be an hours-long adventure, but Jessie and I can’t stop cracking jokes, pretending like we’re women putting on a fashion show for each other. He’s dressed in a brown sweater and khakis paired with a lighter colored suede jacket and brown Oxfords, looking like he comes from wealth but isn’t an asshole who flaunts his money.
“Your shirt looks fine, man,” he says, nodding to the mirror.
I stare at the green button-up and feel underdressed beside my best friend. Taking the poker chip out of my pocket, I flip it to help me decide if I should keep this outfit on or change.
“If it lands on tails, I’ll stay in this.”
He laughs. “You know Sebastian isn’t making these choices for you.”
I quiet him with a push onto the bed and flip the chip in the air. In my head, I know flipping Sebastian’s chip isn’t a connection to him, but in my heart, I feel like he helps me make decisions when they feel too heavy for me. We can’t chat and work through things like we used to, so this is the closest I get.
“See.” Jessie smiles as the chip lands on tails. “Even Sebastian thinks you look nice in that outfit. Let’s go before we’re late.”
Tilly hates when we’re late .
The three amigos have a standing date every Friday night at the Mexican bar where we do karaoke. It’s our little ritual for making it through another week of Chemistry.
“Come on, slowpoke,” Jessie yells from downstairs.
I spritz myself with some cologne and take a comb through my hair. My chest is tighter than my back muscles with how nervous I am every time we hang out with Tilly. Me, her, and Jessie have been Chemistry partners for the entire semester, and with the class ending soon, I either need to make a move or lose my chance with her.
Sliding into the passenger seat of Jessie’s SUV, I borrow the lint roller he keeps in his console while he checks his hair for the umpteenth time. We haven’t talked about our mutual attraction to the space-bunned princess who has us wrapped around her finger, how we’ll deal with it, if we will at all.
“You guys look nice,” Tilly says when we arrive at our usual booth.
She’s dressed in her normal attire: a pair of colorful leggings with an oversized sweater in a mismatched color scheme, her hair thrown up into messy buns with chopsticks.
I love her don’t care attitude about her clothing. It makes her stand out in the best way possible. People look at her and just know she’s a good time, that you could never be sad around her because even her clothing can bring up your spirits.
Jessie and I always sit on the same side of the booth, an unspoken truce so Tilly doesn’t feel uncomfortable sitting beside one of us. My long legs brush against hers as we get comfortable, and my cheeks heat like a teenage boy when she playfully bumps my leg.
“The usual?” the server asks when she arrives at our table.
“Can I have a twisted margarita?” Tilly asks.
She usually doesn’t drink, but I guess it’s a celebration .
“I’ll take a Jack and Coke,” I reply.
“Same,” Jessie adds. “And chips and queso, please?”
The bartender drops off our drinks and appetizer, making a point to flirt in front of Tilly. Neither Jessie or I give her our attention because it’s solely fixed on the woman dancing happily across the table from us.
“How do you guys feel about that test?” Tilly asks, munching on a tortilla chip.
“It was harder than I thought,” I say.
“I felt prepared for it.” Jessie shrugs. “Probably because of your help.”
I clench my teeth against the urge to kick him in the shin or stomp on his toe.
“Aww.” Tilly smiles. “You guys would’ve done just fine without my help.”
We all share a laugh at that, knowing she’s dead wrong. Me and Jessie would’ve bombed this class if it wasn’t for her.
Three drinks and a basket of chips and queso later, the karaoke host announces the first singer. The bartender drops off another margarita and two Jack and Cokes to our table. I’m trying to stay sober and keep an eye on Tilly’s drinking, so she doesn’t get too plastered, but each time I notice Jessie getting closer to her or making her laugh I order another drink.
The bar reeks of greasy tortilla chips and sweat from the bodies gyrating on the dance floor, but it’s my favorite place to be because she’s here. Jessie and I cheer her on as she takes the stage and tries to rap the entirety of Ice Ice Baby without managing to hit one note correctly. She exudes happiness, and everyone who takes the time to get to know her is immediately pulled into that happiness too.
She’s out of breath, skin glistening when she hops off the stage and tumbles into the seat beside me. Beside me. My heart trips over itself when she latches onto my arm and looks up at me with her big brown eyes and pink cheeks.
“You’re up next, Arch.”
“Me?” My voice cracks. “I can’t sing.”
She boops me on the nose. “That’s the whole point, silly. No one can, but it’s exhilarating.”
“Go on, Arch.” Jessie has a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Next up on the roster is Archer Wilson.” The host pauses. “Singing ‘Man I Feel Like a Woman?’”
His questioning voice echoes mine. My wide eyes land on Tilly, and she’s so excited and giggly I nearly kiss her right there. I know in that moment I’d do anything to make this girl smile like that every day of my life if she’d have me.
I scoot out of the booth and head up to the stage, sheepishly keeping my eyes on the ground. I grit my teeth against the hoots and hollers of the crowd cheering me on. If my parents could see me, there’s no way they’d be able to hide their embarrassment at having me as a son. Everyone would finally see how much of a disappointment I am to them.
The opening chords of the song begin and the entirety of the bar joins in as I start singing. In this moment, I’m thankful Seb used to force me to listen to country music when he drove us to high school. I can’t imagine the bar would be this hyped if I was stumbling over the words. I chance a look at the booth where Tilly sits with her head propped up on her hands and her eyes fixed on me. Jessie gives me the finger and I laugh, nearly missing my next cue.
After I’m finished, I head to the bathroom to splash my face with some cold water. I’m pushed up against a wall the moment I walk out of the bathroom, and Tilly’s mouth is on mine. I’m so stunned it takes me a moment to react.
“That was so hot,” she says, breathless.
Lips on fire, I snake my arms around her waist and spin us around until she’s pinned against the wall. Lithe fingers skate across my beard and into my hair, tugging softly in a way that makes me tilt my head so she can deepen the kiss. Her soft moans warm my core, and the strawberry taste of her mouth makes me hungry for more than this kiss, this moment.
Glass crashes to the floor, and like a shotgun going off, the entire bar stops and stares at the person who dropped their drink. It takes only that split second for Tilly to slip from underneath my arms and head back to the booth.
I take a few breaths and adjust the now very awake animal inside my pants and make my way to where she and Jessie chat with a round of fresh drinks in their hands. I’m stone cold sober after that kiss, and I want to make sure Tilly and Jessie both get home okay, so I forego another, in hopes she’ll want to continue what happened in the hallway.
Jessie scrutinizes me the moment I arrive at the booth, tongue pressed into his cheek like he knows we kissed. Tilly won’t meet my eyes. Her gaze flits to me for a moment before Jessie grabs her attention again, and I find myself stuck between my two best friends, unsure which one my loyalty lies with. Tilly’s face lights up as Jessie tells her another joke, and an uncomfortable sensation ensnares my chest.
We walk Tilly to her apartment, and I take the keys from Jessie to drive us home. My thoughts are filled with all the what ifs of tonight. What if she didn’t like my kiss? What if I upset her by taking charge? What if it’s not me she belongs with?
Am I repaying Jessie for saving my life by stealing his girl?