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He confused her. After that day on the boat, Tea thought Archer would make another move. She’d certainly hoped so when he cupped her face last night. She wanted him to dip down and kiss her. To make up for all of those years apart. Yet he didn’t budge, and the rest of the night, he acted friendly. They ate frozen pizza and played Super Mario Brothers and drank way too many cranberry vodkas, laughing themselves almost sick. Now she was in bed, unable to piece together how she even got there.

She looked down at her clothes, realizing she was in a pair of sweatpants and a shirt that weren’t her own.

Oh god, she thought. Did he change her? She felt for her undergarments, exhaling when she found she still had on her bra and underwear. But her clothes from yesterday were on the floor beside her, and she was wearing his clothes instead.

A soft knock broke her away from her thoughts.

“You okay in there?” Archer asked on the other side of the door.

She groaned loudly, then listened to him chuckle in response.

“Yeah, I kind of figured that would be the case,” he replied. “Did you take the meds?”

“Yeah,” she croaked.

“Good.” He waited for a beat. “Are you going to come out, or…?”

“That requires moving,” she quipped.

“Okay, well, I carried you into that bed. I’m not carrying you out as well.”

She palmed her face. He carried me to bed? “I think I’ll disintegrate into the sheets instead.”

“But I have coffeeeee.”

Coffee. She kicked the quilt away and stood up, then threw open the door.

Archer was leaning against the frame. He was in shorts and a worn white T-shirt, his hair tousled from sleep. But his smile was wide. He looked like he actually got some rest.

God damn him. She scowled. “No one should look that happy hungover.”

He shrugged. “I’m not hungover.”

Her mouth fell open. “How are you not hungover?”

“Practice? Tea, I work in beverages. I have a bit of a tolerance.”

She squinted her eyes. “No more vodka the rest of this quarantine.”

He smirked, then cocked his head to the left. “Bathroom is that way. I put your stuff in there last night, and there’s a stack of towels next to it.”

She glanced around him. “I was promised coffee.”

He gave her that cocky smirk again, then reached for the steaming cup sitting on the desk outside her room and handed it to her. “Someone’s grumpy.”

She flipped him off as she went to the bathroom, listening to his laugh the entire way there. She brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth, then took a few sips of coffee before washing her face. She leaned back as she soaked the washcloth in her hands, eyeing Archer. He stood in his living room, eyes out the window to the dock and the sunny day that welcomed them. She dropped her eyes to his arms, then the rest of his body. She let them linger on his calves and his thighs; underneath all of those tattoos was a lot of lean muscle. When he shifted and turned she jerked forward, splashing some of her coffee on the counter.

Shit. She wiped the counter, reminding herself she finally had Archer back in her life. Was she really going to screw all of that up?

She pulled her hair into a ponytail, taking her time finishing up in the bathroom while giving herself a pep talk. Just friends. Keep it casual.

Archer stood at the counter. Two plates of freshly scrambled eggs and toast sat in front of him. He picked one up as she approached and handed it to her. “Want to eat on the dock?”

“You made me breakfast?”

“Carbs and butter usually help with hangovers. So does vitamin D.”

“Is that scientific fact?”