He grimaces. “I sure fucking can.”
“I don’t want anything that Nick touched—”
He holds out a hand. “You don’t have to say it. I get it. It’d be an awful reminder.” A ghost of something slides over his face, but as quickly as I think I see something that worries me, it’s gone.
My brow furrows. He hasn’t looked at my naked body, even though this is the first he’s seeing me in the light of day. An unwelcome thought enters my head. Maybe he’s only caring for me now because he has to. Because Kingston has his hands full with Cannon. A shudder rolls through my body, and my face falls as those slimy words I’ve heard so many times slip into the forefront of my mind.You’re not good enough for me, Ellie. Look at you. Look at me. We arenotthe same. You’re lucky to have me, but then you went and ruined yourself. You’re scarred. It’s so ugly. Why would you do that? No one will ever love you now. Don’t leave me, Ellie. If you don’t have me, you don’t have anyone. Not anymore.
Everything Nick told me has burrowed so deep inside me I may never be free of it. When Archer finds out the damage is not simply surface level, he’s not going to want me anymore. Maybe Cannon won’t either—I won’t be the perfect girl for him. And I’m nothing but a reminder to Kingston of his sister and how he lost her. I wallow in these thoughts, swimming against the current of all these emotions, and it seems like too much, like it’s too strong and going to take me under. I’m going to drown.
I don’t know whether Archer senses my distress or not, but he snaps me out of that dark place with a jut of his chin toward the tub. “Come on, Peaches, let’s get him off you.” I chew on the corner of my lip while he puts a protective arm around me and guides me to the tub. How can anyone look at what I’ve done to myself out of desperation and weakness and not be utterly disturbed? Or not think differently of me than they did before they knew? I sit on the edge of the marble tile with all these terrible thoughts crashing through my head and beating up my very soul.
“That’s right. Easy does it. Tell me if it’s too hot.”
I search him out with my eyes, wondering what he’s thinking as I ease myself around and dip my toes into the water. “It’s just right.” I slide in, inch by inch, lowering myself into the tub and wincing only a tiny bit when the cuts on my thigh meet the water.
“You okay?” I glance to the side to find Archer’s brow wrinkled with concern. While he waits for my answer, he removes his watch.
I want to ask him if what I’ve done to myself affects what he thinks of me. He had reassured me earlier that no matter what, nothing would change the way they feel, but that was before he understood I’d done part of this to myself—that I’d sought to escape how dead inside Nick made me by doing something that reminded me that I was alive, that I could still feel. I can’t ask. So instead, I simply whisper, “Yeah. I’m good,” even though the impulse to cut—to deface the N left on my skin—is strong, so powerful it’s almost a compulsion. I take a deep breath. I won’t let Nick win. I survived him once. I can do it again.
Archer’s eyes are narrowed on me, like he senses my internal struggle, but he says nothing, simply nods calmly before heading to the sink where he sets the watch to one side. He opens one drawer after another, not finding whatever he’s searching for.
I frown, watching him, temporarily distracted from the barrage of ugly thoughts in my head. “What do you need?”
“Soap. Something gentle, without fragrances and stuff.”
My stomach does a little flip that it’d occur to him to be concerned about what kind of soap to use. “Under the sink. There should be a bottle of face wash for sensitive skin.”
He finds it almost immediately and holds it up, scanning the label. With a nod, he returns to me. “This’ll work just fine. I didn’t want anything that might be an irritant to healing skin.” I hold my hands out for it, and he cocks his head funny. “No way. You’re my responsibility right now. You relax. I’ll take care of you.” He comes over and sits on the marble tile surrounding the tub and runs a hand over my hair. “You know what? I’ll be right back. You’ll be okay for a minute?”
I nod, lying back and closing my eyes, prepared to fight the awful thoughts in my head all over again if I have to. “I’ll be right here.”
* * *
I must have driftedoff in the time he was gone, the warmth of the water lulling me into a calmer state of mind. It’s not until I hear something off to my left that my eyes flutter open again.
“Just grabbing your shampoo and conditioner.” Archer smiles, setting everything he’s collected within reach of the tub, then sits down again beside me. He pulls a hair tie out of his pocket and gestures to my hair. “Let’s put it up for now. We’ll wash it later.”
“Where did you even find that?”
“It was on your nightstand.” He shrugs, then gathers my hair with both hands, smoothly securing it on top of my head.
My brows draw together. “Do you have a sister? Because you’re awfully good at this.”
He carefully rolls up his sleeves, which is distracting as hell, especially when the tatted forearm comes into view. “Nope. Stepbrother.” I bite my lip, wondering at the slight shift in attitude, but then I’m mesmerized by him dipping his hand into the water at my side and squirting soap into his palm. My eyes follow his movements as he creates a bubbling lather. His brows raise with his question. “You want to sit up for me, Peaches?”
I silently do as he requests, sitting up and clasping my arms around my knees. It’s mere seconds before his warm hands are working the soap over my shoulders and down my back. He smooths his palms over me in a reverent, soothing manner, and I understand he’s doing his best to help me and be respectful of my feelings… but I can’t deny I’m very aware that it’s Archer’s strong hands sliding over me, worshiping every inch he can reach.
A moment later, he pauses what he’s doing. “You know…”
I turn my head, looking up at him when he doesn’t finish his sentence. “What?”
“This would be easier if I were in there with you.” He clenches his teeth together, wrinkling his nose at me. “You can say no.”
I take a few steadying breaths. “I wouldn’t say no to you, Archer. If you’re sure you want to…”No one will ever want you.
He doesn’t hesitate at all, but nudges his suspenders from his shoulders, and unbuttons his shirt, all while he toes off his shoes. Standing up, he divests himself of the remainder of his clothes, leaving them in a pile to the side of the tub “I’m getting in behind you. Can you scoot forward?”
You ruined yourself.“Yes.” Eyeing him, I gingerly move myself forward, giving him room in the tub. I make a conscious effort to focus on him, determined to put Nick out of my head—because this might be the best naked view of Archer I’ve ever had. The other time I had a decent ogle was that day he’d stripped down in front of me to take a nap when he was drunk. Even then, his bedroom hadn’t been especially well-lit. With the afternoon sun shining in through the window to my right, though, Archer is a sight to behold. I drink in smooth olive-toned skin, and a lean, muscled frame. He’s not quite as tall as Kingston or Cannon, and definitely not as big, but he’s no slouch. In fact, I’m finding it hard to pry my eyes away from the cut of his abs and the V pointing right toward his dick. It’s not like we haven’t donethingstogether. Sexy things. I’ve felt him hard against me. He’s touched me in ways no one else ever has and has told me all the dirty things he wants to do to me. But all that was before he knew how broken I really am. My hands begin to shake again, out of my control.
