‘What choice did I have? He weighs thirty-five kilos and he was sitting on me. Besides, as we left the kennels it meant I got to utter those immortal words; Elvis has left the building.’ And yes, Archer also does the whole Elvis snarl-sneer lip thing.
‘You may say that but we know you really took him home because he woofs you.’ I make a heart shape with my thumbs and index fingers. Isn’t that right, Elvis?’
‘Don’t even think about it.’ Archer points his finger at Elvis, his tone stern. ‘Heather might be a soft touch but I’m not.’ While I suspect this a show for my benefit, Elvis still settles back in his spot. ‘Now, where were we?’ Archer adds, a particular note in his tone.
‘We were talking?’
‘I think we were snuggling.’ He reaches a broad arm around me, pulling my bum into the cradle of his hips, his legs slotted behind mine, which is fine because there’s a bedsheet between us, so it’s—oh, scratch that. We’re now skin to skin, my nerve endings like fire reacting to the brush of coarse hairs on his thighs. Archer lifts my wrist settling it over the sheet, his fingers trailing a path up the inside of my arm, the pads of his fingers tickling the sensitive skin. It’s so strange how the soft touch radiates all the way to my centre, my breasts tingle and my nipples pebble, aching for his attention.
‘And if I recall correctly,’ he murmurs, his mouth just a whisper away from my ear, ‘you were telling me how good I am in bed.’
‘I’m pretty sure I wasn’t.’
‘Then feel free to do so now while we snuggle.’
Snuggling does feel sort of important, or maybe it’s just a way of numbing ourselves.
‘No compliments for my manly vigour? Then maybe you’re ready to tell me what you were doing in the Spit and Sawdust tonight?’
I don’t want to, but I owe him at least that, don’t I? I dread to think what might’ve happened if he hadn’t been there. A scene, definitely, no matter how discreet their staff tried to be. I clear my throat, my words when they come sort of tremulous.
‘You know I don’t have a lot of experience with men, right?’
‘I know.’ His answer is even, his tone void of any teasing inflection. Will this make things easier or harder to explain?
‘And you asked me what I was doing trawling Tinder, or E-Volve. I suppose the honest answer is that I was trying to get a little more experience. See, I didn’t tell you the truth about last Saturday. I didn’t get dumped by my boyfriend because I didn’t have one. I-it wasn’t a complete lie. I’d been seeing someone but I was only going out with him so I wouldn’t have to go alone. I hadn’t even kissed him.’ I tighten my hand over his as I feel him move behind, worried that he might pull away, maybe try to turn me so we’re face to face. I don’t think I could take that. ‘And then you were great—so great. I mean, you were also annoying and all sorts of other things, but with you by my side, the day was so much easier. But it also made me realise how dismissive I’ve become about, well, relationships. About men. It sort of made me see what I’m missing out on. Connections. The chance to find love. To settle down at some point.’
As I witter on, Archer remains silent and I can’t help wonder who the next woman will be to lie with him like this. Will she see the side of him that I’ve seen? Will she see him better than I have? Past the accusations and the shortcomings I’d plastered him with before I’d really known him? What will she be like? And the woman after her, and the one after that?
‘So you’re going to put yourself out there? You want to date. Properly?’
‘No, not just date. I suppose ultimately I want to fall in love. I want to settle down.’ To have what Miranda has, probably without the millions. ‘Don’t worry. I know that’s not you.’ I twist my head over my shoulder, I can’t see his face properly to read his expression. I press my head back to the pillow again. ‘I promise I’m not one of those women who thinks they can change you. I’ve no bunnies to boil—I’m vegetarian. And I’m too lazy to stalk anyone.’
‘I’m not sure you’ll find what you’re looking for using E-Volve,’ he offers gruffly.
‘Vee, my friend, she pretty much said the same. But it’s really just for practice. Not real.’ I lick my lips a little nervously, pressing his hand tighter to me. ‘You remember Barney?’
‘Something tells me we aren’t talking about the kiddies purple dinosaur.’
‘The man we bumped into in the reception of Frambrough Castle.’
‘Yeah, I remember,’ he says, his tone flat. And for good reason, I suppose. That moment was all such a mess. ‘He was your lunch date.’
Not really, but I suppose indicating the difference is pretty pointless. ‘I’m so sorry about that. You know, I wouldn’t have dreamt of making you come.’
A puff of laugher moves disturbs strands of my hair, making them dance in the periphery of vision.
‘Oh, I got that, babe. No need to labour over that point.’
I pin the sheet to my chest as I turn, pulling myself to sit up as Archer remains on his side, arm bent, and his head propped on his open palm. It’s a kind of angelic pose for one so devilish.
‘You wouldn’t have wanted to come—I know you wouldn’t have. To my parents’ house? To sit through a lunch with people you don’t even know after what we did the night before?’
Is it possible for someone to shrug, lying in the position he’s in? I’m pretty sure he just did. ‘I don’t have an issue with my poker face.’
‘Be reasonable.’
‘It wasn’t nice being dismissed. That’s all I’m saying.’
