I look down to find her gaze sweeping my childhood bedroom, bathed only in the pale glow of the moonlight. From the dark blue walls plastered with posters of cars and planes to the medals and plaques from school awards above my small desk, and the picture frames on my dresser, she takes it all in.
There were noPlayboyposters like Audrey had mentioned—only the remnants of a nerdy teenager who never had the heart to wipe away the memories when he grew up.
“And again, I’m sorry about the whole ex-boyfriend kissing thing,” she says as she turns back to me, hands flailing anxiously as she speaks. “I’m not sure why he was there in the first place, and as hard as I tried to push him off, I wasn’t strong enou—”
I catch one of her flying wrists in my palm, halting her movements and the rest of her sentence. It was meant to be a gesture of reassurance—a confirmation that there’s no need to stress over this. But the shock in her eyes makes me drop it instantly, the contact from her skin burning more than I’d like.
“Don’t worry about it.” I take a step away from her and head toward a bedside table where a lamp sits. “None of it was your fault.” With the twist of my finger, I switch it on, casting a yellowish hue on one side of the room before nodding for her to do the same.
Her brows furrow in confusion as she looks at the ceiling light.
“No one ever stays here,” I explain, “The bulb burned out a while ago, and I never bothered replacing it.”
That’s the only explanation she needs to go along with my request. She makes her way to the opposite side of the bed and fiddles with the knob. After a few failed attempts, she starts huffing and puffing in irritation.
“This. Isn’t. Working,” Vivienne grits out between clenched teeth. “Who even has these twisty dials on their lights anymore? This thing is ancient.”
A loud laugh escapes me for the first time all evening, and Vivienne’s eyes snap up to mine in surprise. And honestly, I am as well. Now that the pressure of pleasing my parents is gone, it’s like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
“Are you calling me ancient, Vivienne?” I tease.
Her mouth parts in shock, clearly scared that I interpreted that way. “No, of course not! I just don’t get why there isn’t a normal switch like all the other lamps on the market.”
I shake my head in disbelief, the smile not leaving my lips as I round the bed.
“There’s no switch because this thing is from my childhood. Switches weren’t common back then. You should know this. You aren’t that much younger than me.”
I stop behind her, arm stretching toward the lampshade, and in the process, I unintentionally lean toward her.
Vivienne’s breath hitches sharply, and it’s then that I realize I can feel it all. Every time she inhales and exhales. The heat of her back radiating onto my chest. The intoxicating smell of her citrus shampoo. Let’s not forget the way her round ass barely grazes the front of my trousers.
I’m too close to her to stay level-headed. Too close to her to stay true to my words. I said I wouldn’t flirt, and I failed at that miserably. Though she hasn’t protested—it was an easy rule to let go of—the same could not be said about the others.
I flick the light on for her, lighting up the room just as Vivienne spins to face me. I freeze in place, captivated by her large, sparkling brown eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“Stop apologizing,” I respond with that same tenderness.
“I know you didn’t want your parents finding out about me.”
My heart tightens at the way she says it—especially when none of it directly concerns her.
It was never about hiding Vivienne from my parents—it was more about avoiding the judgment I’d get when they found out the real reason we were together.
Richard and Natalia Archer are two lovesick fools, even after the forty or so years they’ve been together. Having them as parents, I realized I wanted the same for myself. A love so strong it could withstand the test of time—marriage, kids, ahome.Introducing someone with a temporary place in my life to the people I looked up to the most seemed wrong.
Now that I’d done it, I realize there was a disadvantage I hadn’t anticipated—blurring the lines between what’s real and what’s fake. Vivienne meeting my family might have been for show, but as far as I could tell, her interactions with them were far too real.
She shifts her gaze downward, letting out a nervous chuckle, as though brushing off her earlier statement.
I slide my thumb and forefinger under her chin, gently guiding her eyes back to mine. Something about them always revealed her inner workings. She may not wear her heart on her sleeve, but every glance told me what words could not.
“It’s in the past. None of that matters now when you’ve won them over so effortlessly.” I stroke the point of her chin, fighting every bone in my body not to do the same to her lower lip.
One step forward, that’s all it took for us to stumble onto the bed, and for me to claim her as mine.
Shame fills me at the thought, but knowing that bitch of an ex forced himself onto her makes me want to replace that memory with a new one.
