Rule #38: There’s only one way to truly reunite.
Archer
“No, really,” Rex mutters from the front seat. “Let me outhere.”
Now that we’re far enough from the danger and the police, Lucien pulls to the side of the road. I don’t even know what part of town we’re in, but I don’t have to worry about Rex. He’d find his way home blindfolded.
“But you’re bleeding,” Freya says with concern, making Rex chuckle.
“I’ll be fine. Thanks, though.”
“Let me have a word with him,” I murmur to Julian. He nods as I climb out of the car, meeting Rex on the sidewalk. We’re both wearing blood and bruises, but I feel fairly confident that after that whole incident, he doesn’t hate me so much anymore. “Listen, I’m?—”
He holds up a hand. “I’m not your boyfriend. I don’t need you to apologize.”
I shrug with a wince. “I’m gonna do it anyway.”
“You always were a stubborn asshole.”
“Rémy, I’m sorry,” I say plainly.
He flinches, glancing up at me when I use his real name instead of his fighting name.
“I shouldn’t have just abandoned you because I got a new boyfriend…and girlfriend.”
Clearly uncomfortable with any sort of vulnerability, he grimaces, staring out at the street. “No worries, Archer.”
“Can we still be friends?”
His grimace turns into disgust. I’m really torturing him with this.
“Knock it off,” he barks, shoving me in the shoulder. “Of course we’re still friends.” Then he shoves his hands in his pockets before adding, “You were gonna take the L for me.”
“I was not,” I argue. “You were winning fair and square.”
“Shut up,” he grumbles, and I can’t hold in my laughter. “I’m out of here.”
As he starts to walk off, I grab him by the shoulder and pull him back toward me, wrapping my arms around him for a hug. After a moment of hesitation, he wraps his arms around me and pounds a fist on my back.
After we part, he nods toward me. Then he walks away.
“Hey,” I call after him. “Freya’s restaurant opens tomorrow. You should come.”
He glances back with a shrug. “Okay. I will.”
After my friend is gone, I climb back in the back seat with Freya and Julian. The rest of the ride is quiet. There’s a lot we need to say to each other, but not now. Not tonight. I’m too busy feeling grateful that they’re even here. They came for me.
Last night was a close call.
For the first time, I almost lostfor real.
When we reach our apartment building, I put my hand out for Julian, and he slips his long, soft fingers against mine, and it feels so good I make a promise to myself never to let him go again.
That mingled with Freya’s warm body nuzzled against mychest as we walk inside is like heaven. Julian says something in French to his driver, and the only parts I can pick up are “thank you” and “I’m sorry.”
The doorman opens the door for us as we stroll inside, heading straight for the elevator. It’s late now, past midnight, but I’m not tired, and I assume neither are they. There was too much adrenaline tonight to feel tired now. I’ve run the gamut of emotions today—anger, fear, more anger, loneliness, panic, and oh yeah, more fear.
Right now, I just want to bask in this gratitude.
