Archer's Voice - Sheridan Mia - Страница 39
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We made a pretty early night of it and got home by eleven, since I had to work in the morning, and I had showered and then read for a while. I turned off my light and was thinking about Archer and wondering how his night was going. I was so proud of him for agreeing to go out with Travis. He had looked so leery and unsure, and I knew that most of the reason he'd gone was because I'd encouraged it. But it was still such a big step. He had barely been off his own property, except for the occasional trip into town to get groceries or supplies for his projects, since he was seven years old! Going out to a bar or a restaurant was a big deal. I hoped he had had at least a little bit of fun.
I turned over again when I heard a car door shut loudly and what sounded like a big truck go roaring off. What the heck? Phoebe perked her head up at the bottom of my bed and let out a soft bark.
My heart sped up, fear sweeping through me. I steadied my breathing though–if this was someone intending me harm, if it was him, he definitely wouldn't announce himself with a bunch of avoidable noise.
"Stop being paranoid, Bree," I murmured. But I tiptoed to the front room anyway, Phoebe at my heels.
I pulled the edge of the curtain back and peeked out the window. I saw a large form walking unsteadily away from my cottage. Was that… Archer? Yes, yes it was.
I hurried to my door and flung it open, calling softly, "Archer?"
He turned around in the road and just stood there.
I cocked my head to the side, smiling a small, confused smile. "What are you doing here?" I asked. "Come here, I'm in my PJ's."
He stood there for a few beats, swaying very slightly, looking… I squinted my eyes into the dim light… drunk and upset. Oh geez, did Travis get him drunk? Great.
Suddenly, he started walking toward me, his head down. He came up my steps and walked right up to me, gathering me in his arms. He held on to me tightly and buried his nose in my neck, inhaling deeply.
I froze in his embrace. Oh God, he smelled like another woman's perfume–reeked of it, actually. Some vanilla, dime store stink. My heart seemed to thud to a stop in my chest and then start up again erratically. What in the hell had happened during guys' night out?
"Archer," I said again, pushing him away from me gently. He took a step back and made a movement that made me think he was trying to shake his hair into his face. But he didn't have long hair anymore. He ran a hand over his newly cropped style and looked at me miserably.
He brought his hands up and signed, somewhat sloppily, I didn't like guys' night out. I don't like strip clubs.
"Strip club?" I breathed out. And that's when I spotted the huge hickey on his neck and the bright pink lipstick smudged on his collar. Oh God. My blood ran cold. "You were with another woman, Archer?" I asked, my heart sinking. My hands seemed to be incapable of doing anything other than hang by my sides.
For several beats, he just stared at me, his tormented eyes telling me everything going on in his head. He thought about lying to me for a second, I saw it flash in those expressive golden brown eyes, but then a look of defeat came over his face and he nodded his head, yes.
I just stared at him for a good thirty seconds before speaking, "Did they bring you up on stage or something?" I asked, hopeful that this was all some sort of bachelor party shenanigan.
His brows furrowed, but then two dots of color appeared on his cheekbones, and he brought his hands up and signed, No, in one of the back rooms.
"The back rooms?" I whispered.
Archer nodded and we both just stared at each other for a few seconds.
"So you were with her with her?" I asked. I could feel the color drain from my face.
Torment washed over his features as he nodded, yes. He looked down at his feet.
I closed my eyes for a couple seconds trying to digest this, and then opened them. "Why?" I asked, tears filling my eyes now.
Archer stuck his hands in his pockets and just looked at me, stark misery washing over his features. But what was I supposed to do with that? He had to know that I would be upset over the fact that he was with another woman. Did he know so little about the world? About relationships? About love? No, I couldn't believe that.
He took his hands out of his pockets and signed, You kissed Travis. His jaw ticked.
I paused, frowning. "I kissed Travis once when you and I were only friends," I said quietly. "But once we became more, I picked you, Archer…" My words faded and then I choked out, "I picked you." Hurt and anger and defeat crashed through my body again as he swayed slightly in front of me, looking like a puppy dog who had just been kicked. But wasn't I the one who had just been kicked?
I cleared my throat so I wouldn't start crying. "You're drunk," I said. "I'll drive you home. You need to sleep it off." I felt numb now.
Archer grabbed my arm, and I looked down at his fingers on my skin and then up into his defeated expression. He let go of me and signed, I'm sorry.
I nodded once, a twitchy movement of chin to chest, and then grabbed my light coat off of the hook by the door and walked through it. I heard Archer close the door behind us and his footsteps following behind me.
I got in my car, and he got in the passenger seat, closing the door softly.
We drove in silence the short distance to Briar Road and when I pulled up in front of his gate, he turned to me in the car, looking at me beseechingly.
"Just go, Archer," I said. I needed to go home and curl up in my bed. I didn't know how to sort through all my feelings right now.
Archer stared at me for a few seconds and then turned and got out of my car, closing the door behind him.
I did a three-point turn and started back to my cottage. When I looked in my rear-view mirror, Archer was still standing at the end of his road, his hands stuffed in his pockets, watching me drive away.
When I got home a few minutes later, I took off my jacket numbly and walked back to my room, climbing back into bed and pulling the covers up over my head. It was only then that I let the tears flow, devastation gripping my heart. He had been with another woman–the man I was falling in love with had chosen to give his first time to some cheap stripper in the back room of a bar. And I knew that I had played a part in making that happen.
I dragged myself out of bed the next morning after all of two hours of sleep. I felt heavy with sadness as I went through my morning routine.
Once I got to the diner, I immersed myself in as much busy work as possible, trying fruitlessly to keep my mind off of Archer. It was a worthless cause though and as I re-stocked the sugar containers at each table, I thought about how hard I had pushed Archer to step out of his comfort zone and be a little social. I wanted to laugh with the irony, and then I wanted to fall on the floor and cry under one of the tables. Instead, I took a deep breath and counted out Splenda packets.
Part of this was my fault. I shouldn't have pushed him to do something he wasn't ready for. I had just thought that maybe he'd never be completely ready, and a little nudge from someone who cared about him was a good thing. He couldn't live on his little plot of land his whole life, never venturing out beyond the grocery and hardware store. I didn't think he wanted that either. But maybe I should have been the one to help him step out into the world, instead of taking Travis up on his offer. Travis. What was his role in this whole thing? I had the feeling it was less than innocent. I had a vague notion that I might have thrown Archer to the wolves instead of helping him break out of his safety cocoon. At the very least, Travis hadn't stopped what happened at the club. Archer was so withdrawn and so shy. Surely, he wouldn't have sought out sex with another woman himself. A pang of hurt pierced my heart, and I wanted to cry again when I pictured him thrusting into some half-dressed woman. I closed my eyes and willed the tears away. I had been cheated on before–I would get over it.
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