He shakes his head. “Just my name and more zeros than I’ve seen in my life. I went to my bank, thinking they’d tell me it was fake. And theyacceptedit. So now I have $50,000 sitting in my checking account.”
“That’s insane,” I repeat.
“Yeah. I’m still not even sure what I’m going to do with the rest of the money.”
It was absolutely Archer. Maybe it was Torin and Callum as well, but I know where that money came from: the only place it could have. My scent matches.
“I can give it back,” Jack says, watching me closely. “If you think they’re trying to buy their way back into your life and it’s manipulation, I’ll give it back.”
“Don’t give it back.” I scrub a hand over my face.
They bought this building and are making it better—not just for me—but for everyone who lives here. And they helped Jack in a way I wish I could have, but couldn’t.
“They did it for me,” I say quietly, not sure what to think or even do.
“What do you think about that?”
“I don’t know. Theyseemlike they’re sorry and want to make things right. But…”
“But?” he prompts.
“They hurt me so badly. Too badly for me to jump into a relationship with them without thinking really hard about whether it’s the right thing to do.”
“Well, I’m here if you ever want to talk.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
We say our goodbyes, and I send Jack away with a bag of groceries I won’t eat.
I spend the rest of the evening on my new couch, watching mindless trashy shows on the new TV that replaced the old one, pondering what to do about my scent matches.
Can I forgive?
“You’re quiet,” Archer says the next morning after we’ve pushed our way off the packed bus near the hotel.
I hate the bus, but I take it to work to get paid. Archer continues to put himself through this for me, and it’s hard not to feel a little bad for him. I at least get paid for my work. His only reward is going through the same experience on the way back to the apartment.
When my tote bag slides down my arm, I pull it back up, the bracelet on my wrist jingling. I haven’t taken it off since Archer put it on me, not even when I shower.
“Jack told me you threatened him in his shop,” I say, and wait for him to lie or deny it.
With a wince, he scrubs a hand over his head. “Not my proudest moment, but yes, I did.”
We stroll toward the hotel. “And he told me that you apologized and offered him a job.”
“It was the least I could have done for threatening to kill the guy for wanting to be your friend.”
I stop and look at him. “And if he’d wanted to sleep with me? If he had been my new boyfriend?”
“I’m not a good person, Juniper.”
A gust of wind tugs a strand of hair loose from my low bun, my usual work hairstyle so I don’t have to deal with my hair in my face all day.
Archer gently tucks it behind my ear. I don’t lean into his touch, but I don’t pull away either. Our relationship is changing in ways I didn’t think it would.
“But?”
“I’m not sure what I would have done if he’d been sleeping with you. Probably punched him in the face. Not killed him. He didn’t deserve that. What I’m trying to say is that I do things that are not right. I don’t always think before I lash out at the people I care about. I hurtyou. But Iamtrying to be better.”
