Page 61
“No.” She dropped everything she was holding onto the solid wood floor. “I want you to grab that bottle of vodka in your freezer.”
He laughed, watching as she opened his cabinets and grabbed two plastic cups. “I think drinking vodka straight would be a bad idea?”
“We’ll mix it with the cranberry juice I bought.”
He lifted a brow, placing her things on the couch, then flicked on the lamps. “You bought cranberry juice?”
“I figured a mixer would be good to have on hand.” She reached for the fridge handle. “Oh crap, I should have grabbed some of my wine.”
He smirked. “Open the fridge.”
She tilted her head in confusion, then opened it. Her mouth split into a grin. “Six bottles?”
He shrugged, making his way to the kitchen to join her. “I grabbed them a few days ago. Figured having a few bottles would be good to have on hand.”
She shook her head. “So we’re stocked for a quarantine, aren’t we?”
“I guess so.”
The two of them stood there, staring at each other. They had yet to remove their masks since the drive to the clinic.
Tea seemed to be thinking the same thing. “Should we take them off?”
He swallowed. “Only if you’re comfortable.”
She didn’t move for a beat, then slowly lifted her hand to his face. Archer stood still as she undid the elastics around his ears.
He smiled, stepping closer to her. He removed her mask, placed it on the counter, then cupped her face in his hands. “Are you doing okay?”
She nodded. “I'm a little scared that I won’t be around them. But thank you for letting me stay.”
“Of course. Anything you need.”
She bit her lip. It took everything in his power not to lean down and kiss her. He knew if he did and she rejected him, a two-week quarantine would not go well.
Or, if she didn’t reject him…it could go very well.
He didn’t let himself fantasize about it.
She grinned, and for the second time tonight, Archer wondered if Tea was reading his thoughts. “Ready to get shitfaced?”
He grinned back at her. “Frozen pizza for dinner?”
“Sounds immaculate.”
Chapter 17
Tea
To assemble their nests, mated pairs will gather twigs, leaves, and other vegetation from the lake. A nesting pair of loons will return to the same sight each year, refurbishing the original nest instead of building a new one.
She woke up with a blinding headache, in a room that wasn’t her own. The guest bedroom in Archer’s cabin was small but quaint, the twin bed covered in a worn quilt made with patterns of trees and boats and loons. Tea remembered Archer telling her his grandmother made it for him when they finally maneuvered her few things to the room. It was one of the only things she remembered from the night before.
She groaned as she turned onto her side to check her phone for the time. Before she could tap the screen, she saw the tall glass of water by her bedside, along with a few painkillers.
She grumbled and took the medicine, washing it down with water. Her mouth tasted stale. She sat up as she placed the water back on the nightstand, then realized a familiar picture frame was propped up next to her phone. She squinted at the photo of her and Archer, wondering how it got there. Then she remembered snippets of the night before; Archer tucking her in, plugging in her phone, and fidgeting with something as she closed her eyes.
He must have grabbed it for me. Her heart raced at the idea of him seeing that photo. She wondered what he would think if he knew she’d kept it by her bed all these years. That she’d driven it the eight hour and forty-seven minutes from Chicago that gray day in May. It made her feel embarrassed. Besides the large tattoo on his back, which was more of a tribute to her father rather than her, Archer didn’t seem to hold on to any mementos from their past. He picked himself up and he moved on.
