Brett looked between us, a calculating look in his eyes. His lips parted, and a small white cloud formed in front of them as he readied to speak.
“It’s not happening,” Archer said, confident and firm.
I tensed, and his arm locked tighter around me as though he would stop me from running away.
“What?” Brett asked.
“You and Toby. It’s not happening. You’re going to have to find someone else because he’s mine. He always was, and he always will be.”
My mouth dropped open.
Did Archer just claim me? Did he just claim me in the town square in front of half the town?
Brett looked at me for confirmation, but I was rendered speechless.
A pregnant pause settled between the three of us. When Brett made no move to go, Archer nudged me. “Tell him, Tobes.”
“Tell him?” I echoed.
“Who you belong with.”
I looked up at Archer, his blue eyes a mixture of nerves and something that made my mouth run dry.
Love.
I found myself nodding, still clinging to his gaze. “Yeah.”
“You’re with Archer?” Brett pressed.
Archer reacted subtly. Something I felt because I was pressed into his side. Pulling his eyes from mine, he shifted them to Brett. “Is that so hard to believe?” he asked, cool.
“I thought you two, like, hated each other.”
“I’ve never hated Toby,” Archer said adamantly. Then, looking back at me, he said, “Quite the opposite, actually.”
Apparently, the cage my heart was kept in had a key. And that key was owned by Archer.
I turned to him so our chests were pressed together and not our sides. “Do you really mean that?”
“I’ve never meant anything more,” he vowed, the look in his eyes cementing the promise.
My hands skimmed along the smooth material of his vest as they wound around the back of his neck. “Archer, I?—”
Brett cleared his throat.
Without looking away from me, Archer reached around and pushed Brett away. “Go away.”
I don’t know if he listened or if everyone else ceased to exist, but suddenly, it was just me and Archer underneath the mistletoe in the glimmering gazebo. Somewhere in the distance, Christmas music played, but it was nothing more than a rhythm to which our hearts synced.
“I’m sorry,” Archer said before I could say anything at all. “For implying you had to give up everything for me. For expecting you to feel the same way I do after just one kiss.”
“It wasn’t?—”
“Let me say this,” Archer implored, his eyes beseeching and my heart bending to his will. “I need to say it. I’ve held it in for too long.”
I nodded.
“I love you.”
