“Please don’t make me watch that again,” he whispers.
“I’m sorry,” I croak.
“You realize that winning those fights isn’t really winning, don’t you?”
Not a single word comes out of my mouth in response. I refuse to acknowledge that.
“Why do you do it?” he asks. “I just want to understand. Is it truly about the adrenaline and the fun of the fight?”
Still, no words escape. When I move to stand, he places his hands on my shoulders and holds me down. Then, to my surprise, he pulls me toward him, letting my face rest against his stomach. My cheek is pressed to the button of his shirt as he strokes the back of my head.
With an exhale, I let out all the tension buried deep within my muscles. He curls his body around me, clutching me against his perfectly tailored shirt. My arms wind around his waist. No one has ever held me like this after a fight.
It would be reckless of me to get used to it.
Rule #24: When you’re ready, take control and tell them what you want.
Freya
Onyx purrs against my chest as I carry her down the stairstoward Archer’s apartment. I hope he doesn’t mind me bringing back a friend, but I couldn’t bear to leave her alone. Or maybe I don’t want to be alone. Either way, she’s joining us.
When I reach Archer’s place, I knock on the door, and Julian appears a moment later to let me in. The tension of that fight is buried deep within our bones, and I see it as clear as day on his face.
We are not used to the intensity of moments like that. Archer might be used to it now, which is why he’s unbothered by it. I just wish I understood why he is so insistent on doing this to himself. Is it really about adrenaline? Or is there something more?
“How is he?” I ask as I step inside.
“He’s soaking in the bath. He seems okay.” Julian’s voice is flat and his expression wary.
I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing that I am. That I care very much about Archer.Andthat I can’t possibly stay with him if this is what he’s going to subject himself to every night. It’s reckless. Irresponsible. Dangerous.
Is caring about him enough? What say do I have in Archer’s life at this point?
As I set Onyx down, she scurries off to explore Archer’s apartment. I press my face into Julian’s chest, and he wraps his arms around me. We don’t say a word as we hold each other. There are too many thoughts on our minds and not enough space or time to utter them.
When he releases me from his grasp, I walk toward the primary bedroom and into the en suite bathroom. It’s dim and quiet, and I spot Archer reclining in his tub with his arms draped over the sides.
Before I can even fully grasp what I’m doing, I tear off my shirt and slide my skirt down my legs. He glances up to see me as I unsnap my bra and shimmy out of my underwear until I’m completely naked.
There isn’t a worry in my mind as I step into the hot water facing him and drape my body against his chest.
His strong arms wind around me, holding me close as I breathe in the familiar scent of his neck. Already, I find so much comfort in him—his smell, his touch, his voice. The origin of that comfort was a very cold, scary night, stuck in an elevator with his strength and companionship to keep me settled.
This moment doesn’t feel all that different. I need Archer’s touch to comfort me. I need him to convince me that everything is okay. Thatheis okay.
“I’m so sorry, Chef,” he whispers against the top of my head.
“We care about you, Archer. Don’t you understand?” My voice cracks with emotion. My eyes sting, and when I take in another breath, it’s weighted with the urge to cry.
“I know you do.”
Julian’s shoes click against the hard floor as he enters the bathroom. He hovers somewhere nearby as Archer holds me.
“Other people care about you, Archer,” I say, and I feel him stiffen beneath me.
“I know,” he mutters coldly.
Lifting up, I stare into his eyes. “So why do you do it?”
