‘The only things I say about you when you’re not around isowwandeee.’He feigns a creaking back.‘Though I did find myself once whipping out my dick at work to ask Jaydoes this look like it’s sprained to you?’
I don’t know whether to laugh or be horrified. Lorrified maybe, as he leans over as presses his lips to mine. ‘Close you’re mouth, sweetheart. You’re giving me all kinds of ideas. Such bad, dirty ideas.’
‘Archer...’
‘I love it when you say my name like that. I think I’m going to buy you a cane to go with it. And relax. It wasn’t at work. It was Elvis’s opinion I sought.’
‘You had me going there.’
‘I’d have hope you’d know I’d never share what passes between us with anyone. Not even for all their bribes.’
‘I don’t think I want to know.’
‘Good. It’ll keep you ignorant of your fan club at work.’
Now I really know he’s being ridiculous.
‘Getting back to our game, you wear classic retro. Clothes that will never go out of fashion. She,’ he says waving a dismissive hand, ‘is like something you see on a postcard from Blackpool.’
‘You’re especially mean tonight.’
‘Probably because I’m hungry. I haven’t had anything to eat since lunchtime and you sapped the energy out of me earlier.’
‘Oh diddums.’ I lean closer and brush my fingers through his hair. ‘Should I stock up on protein bars next time I go grocery shopping?’
‘Shopping? Who has time for shopping? Between work and screwing, parenting Elvis and the occasional night out, I have about three and a half minutes a day to myself.’
‘And you use those minutes to curl your eyelashes, right?’
‘Oops.’ Archer ducks his head as though looking at my legs. ‘Your jealousy is showing again.’
‘Can’t help it. My lashes are so pale I have to wear mascara in order to look like I have any. And I have to reapply it all after an hour kissing you.Kissing and the rest.Meanwhile, you roll out of bed, brush your fingers through your hair and you’re good to go.’
‘Don’t hate theplaya.Hate the beauty game.’
‘I think I’ll just keep hating on your lashes, if that’s okay.’ I’ll miss him when this is over. Miss his silliness as much as I’ll miss his strong arms. These are hardly thoughts like a bolt out of the blue, more like lingering realisations that make me feel blue.
‘Where the fuck are those fries?’ He cranes his head, looking towards the entrance to the kitchen.
‘Do you think you’ll ever fall in love? Settle down?’
‘What? His head whips around, his expression tempered, I think. Purposely blank.
‘Nothing.’ I shake my head and drop my gaze. Embarrassed. Not sure I want to hear the answer. ‘Just ignore me.’
‘Love, like all bad habits, ruins.’ His words are chilling and so un-Archer like, but he’s not done. ‘When I find the person who shows me otherwise, who knows what’ll happen. Are we playing this game, or what?’ And just like that, the moment is over.
Love ruins. How fatalistic.
‘It’s still your turn.’
This is a silly pastime but it’s one of our favourites. Well, the one that won’t get us arrested in public. We take turns choosing someone, sometimes a couple, making up their backstory and sometimes their lives, all based on nothing but. It’s a silly game but an entertaining one.
‘So, the girl in the red skirt. And the guy in the double denim next to her? He’s the one. She’s got it bad for him.’
In reality, they happen to be sitting on the same table but are both looking at their phones. It’s weird, these days I never look at mine unless itbingswith a text. It used to be that I was so attached to the thing that Hayden once remarked I’d need a surgeon to remove it. Not that he’d dare say anything like that now.
We both fall quiet as a waiter appears at the table, delivering a spinach pide and a cone of sweet potato fries, which we both dive into immediately.
