Chapter Three
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Sarelia
“You’re… you’reArchie,” I breathe, staring at the beautiful, perfect, angelic man in front of me.
Not that I didn’t believe Stone when he plopped me in my “trusty steed” yesterday afternoon and told me he would take me to Archie, but…
Well, okay, I didn’t believe Stone when he plopped me in my trusty steed yesterday afternoon and told me he would take me to Archie.
But now we’re here on Archie’s porch and Archie isrightthere, mere feet in front of me. I couldtouchhim. The circumstances that led me to be this close to him aside, this is both my wildest dream and my worst nightmare come true.
A dream because Ilovehim, and a nightmare because I’m not parasocial enough to believe that he loves me back, or that he even really knows who I am, despite what Stone claims.
Staring at him up close now, I wonder why I ever gave any worry to the height disparity between us during my many, many nights of bemoaning the reasons we could not be together. I cannot think why I thought I would have the mind space to worry about it when confronted with his shining brown eyes and the playful flop of his sandy-brown hair.
Archie.
I can hardly believe it.
He’sArchie.
“I am,” he answers finally, offering me a wide, dreadful smile. “And we can talk about that in just a moment, my darling. First, I must have a chat with your lovely kidnapper.”
My eyelashes flutter against my cheeks, unbidden.
“Archiekidnapped me,” I whisper. “Archiehad his uncle kidnap me.”
“No, love, he only had me high intensity private investigate you,” Stone corrects. “The kidnapping was me taking initiative.”
“Initiative we need to have a chat about. Come inside. I’ll get you both some tea, and we’ll talk.” He sweeps us through his magnificently pink door and into the house.
Hishouse. Where he lives. AsArchie.
I could just faint.
“Archieis going to make me tea,” I murmur. “Ohmy.”
“She takes it with cream and sugar,” Stone tells his nephew, who settles a searing glare on the older man. “I’m just saying,” Stone defends, hands up. “I meant no offense.”
Archie sniffs, then gently takes me by the elbow—he’stouching me!—and leads me through a maze of hallways to his kitchen, where he guides me to sit in an intricately carved wooden chair at an equally intricately carved wooden breakfast table.
“Chickens,” I whisper, running a finger along the carvings.Chickens!Like his favorite CubeCraft mob!
“I like chickens,” Archie says, patting my head before twirling away to start an electric kettle boiling. “Stone, a word?”
Stone, my sort-of-definitely-but-it’s-okay-cause-he-brought-me-to-Archie kidnapper winks at me, then joins Archie ten feet away at the kitchen counter.
As they whisper to each other, I consider the past few days of my life, and how, exactly, I came to be here, staring atArchie Pineas I sit in his kitchen waiting for him to make me tea.
Obviously, there was the kidnapping. If you want to call it that. I wasn’t exactly struggling all that hard as Stone led me to the pale yellow convertible with promises of Archie being mine if I went with him. And I doubly wasn’t struggling when he stopped by my house and, after triple checking that my parents weren’t around, took me inside to pack the belongings I couldn’t live without—some clothes, my laptop, a pink frog stuffed animal, and a pretty pink deck of cards for the drive.
“As a general rule, kidnappers don’t typically let their kidnappees keep their electronics,” Stone told me, eying my laptop.
“As a general rule, kidnappers don’t typically let their kidnappees choose whether or not they’d like to be kidnapped,” I retorted. “Also, I need this for work. And fangirling.”
“The subject of your fangirling is going to be directly in front of you. And kidnappees aren’t really known for working, either. You’re supposed to let us handle all of your expenses now.”
