My hands itch for my phone to take a video as he winks at Rosie, then smiles, throwing his arm out toward the door. I see it on repeat in my head, slowed down, sped up, fading out as his arm sweeps across the screen to herald a montage of other winks he’s given at other times, a backdrop of poetic lyrics hiding just behind his head.
I’d been nervous before, when it seemed like he might change his mind at any moment, when it seemed like maybe he should, but now…
Well, now I’mwatching, a comfortable position that brings with it comfortable feelings. I’ve watched Archie hundreds of times. Thousands, if I’m honest. I know how to watch Archie just like I know how to breathe.
I’m watching until he turns to me, anyway, ratcheting my nerves straight back up to one trillion as I’m reminded that I’mnotjust here to observe—I’m here toparticipate.
“Ready, my love?”
And I’m not, of course.
But when he asks like that, with his eyes sparkling mischief and his posture nothing but bone-melting confidence…
“Whenever you are,” I answer.
Because at the end of the day, a fangirl is going to follow her obsession, wherever he may lead her.
Chapter Eight
?
Archie
Sarelia’s become upset, and I do not know why.
Normally when Sarelia is upset and I don’t know why, I watch back the feeds, find the moment her mood shifted, deduce the reason, and, if at all possible, order Stone tofix it immediately or so help me.
However, I am in the uncomfortable situation right now of actually being in her presence, and as enjoyable as that discomfort is, it does come with some limitations. Namely, I have no instant replay. I have only my memory to rely on, and it’s full up of her hair softly brushing my arm as her head whips around to keep up with the conversations surrounding us and the gentle rose of her cheeks when her head swings my way. It does not contain, say, any useful thing in regards to parsing her mood, such as herface.
For shame, I know, even if onecouldposit that her hair and her cheeks are just as worthy of devotion as the entirety of her face is.
I should make a schedule, I think. On Mondays I worship her hair, on Tuesdays I worship the line of her neck sliding into her collarbone, and on Wednesdays Ipay enough attention to her on the whole that I don’t miss it when something has made her feel unrest.
I frown, puzzling out the problem.
I couldaskher and avoid whatever possible miscommunications arise from such a course of action.
Or.
I could trust that Iknowmy dear Sarelia well enough to figure it out myself and remedy her pain without bothering her with the awkwardness of confronting it herself.
As a man, I know exactly what I’m going to do.
“My bride?” I murmur, spinning us away from the group that’s gathered at the end of the compound’s road, where the trailhead to Stryker’s hiking trail begins.
Sarelia focuses her full attention on me as I pull us behind a tall, wide oak, positioning myself with my back against the bark and her before me. I tug on her hand until she falls against my chest. My arms encircle her, trapping her on the slim chance she gets the urge to flee.
She’s never been a runner before, but it doesn’t hurt to take precautions.
“Yes?” she breathes, eyes wide as her body brushes mine. Her breathing quickens, and I recall that I’m meant to be being a gentleman until our wedding has officially taken place. I amnotmeant to be putting us in risque positions against trees.
My head tilts as I place my morals against my current position with Sarelia, then straightens as I decide that I will let my wife guide what is okay or not in our relationship. She knows what she’s comfortable with, and she knows what levels of discomfort she might enjoy. Judging by the thundering of her heart and the way that she leans into me, it seems shedoesenjoy the level of discomfort snuggling up to me now brings, even with the rough bark of an oak tree brushing bits of her skin.
“What’s upset you, my love?”
Her lashes flutter, and her brows draw low over her eyes. “I’m not upset,” she lies.
I hum. “The holes you’re digging into your skin tell a different story.”
