He chuckles softly. “Romantic.”
I kiss his hair. It will be. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather share the experience with. What does that mean?
Archer snuggles against me. “I know you weren’t sure about coming, but I’m glad you did.” His voice is quiet and sleepy.
“Me too.” A sentiment I never thought I’d express when it came to this holiday.
And yet this bubble we’re in will burst when we step off the coach, and we’ll have to go back to pretending we’re barely civil. So much for living in the moment. At least I managed it for most of the afternoon. Does it count now we’re on our way to the villa?
“Archer.”
“Hmm?”
“We spent all day together.”
He lifts his head and laughs. “You only just noticed?”
I scowl.
“Sorry. What’s your point?”
“Do we have to keep pretending we’re barely civil? We spent all day together and didn’t kill each other. Surely we can be friends now?”
Archer twirls his finger over my thigh. “We’re more than friends.”
“In front of Dad and Molly.” I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. “Forget it. Being friendly will probably be harder than not.”
“How so?”
“Because it’ll be easier to slip up. I’ll say or do something I shouldn’t, touch you in a way I shouldn’t. You make me tactile.”
“I make you—?” He blinks.
“I’ve never been so touchy-feely with a guy.”
He hums and cups my cheek. “I’m a very touchy-feely person.”
My face flushes. “I noticed. It’s rubbing off on me.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Bad choice of words. Sorry.”
“Or perfect words.” He presses his lips to mine and kisses me softly. “You don’t think you can control yourself around me?”
“No.”
He stares into my eyes, his mouth twitching. He bites his lower lip and looks out the window, dislodging my arm from around him. What was he going to say?
“I guess we should keep pretending we don’t like each other. It might make it hard to explain why we keep going on trips together, though,” he says.
“Some company is better than no company.”
“Eh, I guess that could work.”
“I wish I were as brave as you,” I whisper.
“You are brave. You jumped out of a plane, remember?”
“You know what I mean.”
Archer tips his head against the window. “I’m not brave. I don’t care what other people think. I live my life my way. As long as I’m not hurting anyone or breaking any laws, I’m doing nothing wrong.” He clasps my hand. “We’re not doing anything wrong, Jacob.”
