His eyes flickered, and I wondered if maybe it was guilt.
But then he nodded. “Yeah. Because she’s my friend.”
“Right,” I replied.
“Thanks for your help.”
“Just doing my job.”
“Right.”
After that, he got in his Subaru and drove away.
9
Toby
Ten years ago (Thatnight)…
A nudgeto the back of my arm made me look up as a paper cup piled high with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle appeared in front of my face.
Smiling, I reached for it. “You read my mind.”
“I mean, if we have to endure this tradition, we can at least do it with hot chocolate,” Archer replied.
My fingers brushed against his as I wrapped them around the cup, and even through the gloves, I felt a warm electric jolt course up my arm. Our eyes met and lingered for only a few seconds, but it was long enough to make my heart skip a beat.
He cleared his throat and pulled back while I tugged the cup closer.
“Thanks for this,” I said, swiping the top off the peak of whipped cream.
“The line is super long. Figured I might as well get yours while I was getting mine. Otherwise, you’d be in line half the night.”
I glanced around to look through the crowd at the line at Bab’s hot chocolate table across the street. The line was halfway down the block.
“Sometimes it amazes me there are even that many people in this town,” I remarked.
When Archer didn’t reply, I lifted my eyes to find him already staring.
“What?” I wondered.
“You have whipped cream all over your face,” he observed.
“Well, there is a lot on here.” I defended myself, swiping my tongue around my lips to clean myself up. “Did I get it?”
He made a sound. “Maybe if you hadn’t shoved half your face in the cup.”
My eyes crossed as I tried to see my own face. “Where is it, then?”
Archer laughed under his breath and reached up, swiping the tip of my cold nose with his gloved thumb. The warmth of his finger and the sweetness of the gesture made me sway into the platonic touch. Our eyes met again, and this time he didn’t immediately look away. This time, I saw the awareness I felt reflected back at me.
Lifting his thumb, he showed me the white cream against the dark fabric of the glove. I pulled back, but he caught my chin between two fingers, keeping me in place.
The crush I’d been secretly harboring for too many years flared to life, burning as brightly as the string lights illuminating Main Street. A practiced reflex, I tried to shove it back into the box I locked it in, but before I could even get the lid closed, Archer spoke.
“Not so fast,” he said, his voice richer than the hot chocolate in my cup. “You have it on your cheek too.”
My lips rolled in as his fingers gently swiped the skin beneath my eye.
