It’s not a lie. It’s just not the whole truth.
I study myself in the mirror as I wait for a reply. My hair is wild, and my mouth looks blurred at the edges from all Archer’s kisses. I look as if I’ve been having mad monkey sex all night, which isn’t far from the truth.
My phone buzzes, and I pick it up.
Thank God, I’m so glad you’re okay. I’ll come and pick you up. Be there in five.
I quickly text back,No, it’s okay, I’ll come home.But he doesn’t reply. I think he’s on his way.
Oh no! What am I going to do now?
Chapter Eight
Archer
“Archer!”
I jolt out of sleep and blink as Beth shakes my shoulder.
“Wake up,” she says urgently. “Jude’s coming.”
I sit up, my mind a ball of fuzz. I’m in my bedroom but Beth’s here. The two things don’t match. I feel as if I’ve wandered into one of the many dreams I’ve had featuring her in this room. Have I conjured her up out of my longing and desire?
Then my brain reboots and my head clears, and everything comes flooding back. Beth and Jude breaking up, seeing her at the bar, bringing her home, talking for hours, kissing her, making love to her.
Wait—Jude’s coming here?
Beth is hurriedly getting dressed. I toss the duvet aside and get up. “How long?”
She does her bra up, then tugs on her top. “I don’t know. Five minutes? He texted and said he was at home and asked if I was okay. I said you’d picked me up from the bar and I’d spent the night here. And he said he’d come and pick me up. I tried to put him off, but he didn’t answer, so I think he’d already left.”
They only live a few minutes from here. I glance at her as I pull on my boxers and a pair of track pants from the wardrobe. “Does he know?”
She shakes her head and looks away.
I don’t say anything as I retrieve a fresh tee and put it on, and she does up her cut-downs. I have no idea how she’s feeling, and now isn’t the time to ask.
We head to the door at the same time, and I stand back and gesture for her to precede me. She slips past me without looking at me and walks toward the living room. I turn left, go into the master bedroom,and retrieve the duvet and a pillow from the spare bed. Quickly, I take them into the living room, throw them on the sofa, and arrange them to make it look as if she’s just gotten up.
“We’ll say you fell asleep here,” I tell her. “I’ll get some coffee on.”
She’s standing in the middle of the room, looking bereft. I pause, knowing how hard this is for her.
“It’s not that I regret it,” she says softly.
“I know.”
“It’s just… I don’t want him to find out like this…”
“Neither do I.”
She frowns, maybe only then remembering that he’s my best friend, as well as her boyfriend. Last night, I think Beth and I both felt that our feelings for one another were nothing to do with Jude. This morning, though, we’ve realized that all three of us are inextricably linked. He might have broken up with her last night, but that doesn’t mean that what we’ve done isn’t going to hurt him. And, knowing him and how outspoken he is, I suspect he might regret what he said. He might want her back.
Will she go back to him? There’s no way of knowing right now.
“You might want to do something about your hair,” I say, stifling an inappropriate urge to laugh.
She lifts her hands to the wild mop that I ran my hands through repeatedly last night, curses under her breath, and retrieves an elastic from her pocket. As I go into the kitchen and start making three cups of coffee, she scrapes her hair back and fastens it into a severe bun. Last night, her light-brown skin was flushed with happiness and pleasure. Today, she looks wan and miserable, and my heart sinks. I’ve contributed to her unhappy state, and I feel a wash of shame.
