Page 83 of Shades of Silver City

As much as I loathe Reed these days, I don’t want to lose him entirely. Not to his own poor choices. At least the fog of teal wafting around him tells me he’s likely not on the dust.

“I am sorry, Fantasia,” Reed says, his face hauntingly hollow and his voice flat. “So sorry.”

He turns back to Archer, who says, “Now leave us.”

Reed nods, turning and leaving without any fuss.

The whole exchange has been bizarre, and I stand there wondering what the hell just happened.

Archer whirls toward me. He reaches out to cup the back of my head in both hands, and then his fingers tangle in my chronically messy hair. “Are you all right?”

His eyes scan my face, as if he’s desperately trying to read me. I’m tempted to pull him to me again, to place my lips against his this time. I want to push him down on my mattress and tear his leather jacket off. I want to feel his bare skin against mine.

Instead, I pull free of his touch and force a smile.

“I’m fine,” I choke out.

The intensity of his stare tells me he doesn’t believe me, and his forehead wrinkles in protest, but he simply nods.

I’m not necessarily lying… I am fine.

But I’m also not naive. I know Archer’s comments and affections were just for show—first to comfort me, then to get Reed off my back. He came to offer me reinforcement against my ex.

Just because he doesn’t want to see me hurt, it doesn’t mean he wants me.

I am fine, I tell myself.

Just realizing how unexpectedly and hopelessly attracted to Archer I am.

Prohibition on Cultivation of Gardens and Floral Growth

Silver Edict #11

“In adherence to the mandate of public safety and environmental preservation, the cultivation, planting, or nurturing of gardens and floral growth within designated urban zones is hereby prohibited…”

CHAPTER 19

ARCHER

Unlike Godric, I’ve never glamoured someone into killing themselves. But Gods above and below, when I saw the way Reed spoke to Tasia, I was close.

This woman deserves the world and more. How she ended up with a douche like Reed will never cease to baffle me. He royally screwed up by letting her go, but I’m damn happy he did.

Too bad I refuse to take advantage of her misplaced attraction. I refuse to be a rebound, someone she gets off with, then moves on from. I’m an all-or-nothing man, and I refuse to only have pieces of her.

One day, when I have her, it will be every ounce of her.

But I have to push that thought aside for now. Right now, I need to get her out of here. Once her ex is gone and my emotions are in check, we finish gathering up her things and head for the door.

Just as we exit the apartment, Stace grabs Tasia’s arm. I suppress a growl, stepping in close.

“It’s okay,” Tasia says with a sigh. She shakes her arm free. “What do you want, Stace?”

Their other roommate, the curly-haired girl with a permanent scowl, pops her head out of the door. Then she emerges and closes the door behind her, joining us in the stairwell and crossing her arms. She has what appears to be dried paint all over her shirt and arms—hues of green and blue. I sniff the air. Acrylic.

“No—eff this,” Tasia says, her voice hard. The absence of her usual swearing surprises me, and my brows rise. She might consider me a criminal, but I’m apparently influencing her positively. My chest swells with pride.

“It’s important,” Stace says. “Please?” She juts her lips out in a pout, and her blown-out pupils make the expression seem overexaggerated.

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