Page 8 of Mine for a Moment

His gaze roams over my face, and his smile melts away as his eyes settle on my lips. “Bite me, huh?” he murmurs, his voice different than usual. My stomach flutters, and all of a sudden I realize how close we are, how hard his abs and chest feel against my soft curves.

“Don’t test me,” I whisper, my lips so close to his that I could reach out for a taste—if I wanted to. Would he let me? Ever since he held me in his arms that night, I’ve wondered what he might taste like. The thought came suddenly, and I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind.

Archer’s breathing accelerates, and he carefully lowers me to the floor, his eyes on mine. “I wouldn’t dare,” he says, his voice soft, and for a moment, I wonder whether his words are double-edged.

He reaches down, only to freeze, and I’m instantly reminded of my notebook. I glance down to find it opened on the page I’d bookmarked, the title of my list clear in a pretty, pink,largefont.

“What the fuck is this?” Archer says, snapping up my notebook before I can.

I try to snatch it out of his hand, but it’s too late. His grip tightens, and his expression shifts into something I’ve never seen on him before. My arm falls to my side, mortification washing over me. “It’s nothing,” I whisper. “Please, Arch. Pretend you didn’t see it.”

His jaw tics and his breathing quickens. “People I’d want to lose my virginity to,” he reads out, his eyes flicking over the grand total of two names on the list. Theo’s name is crossed out, and then it readsArcher Harrison, right underneath. Damn my habit of naming lists in obvious ways so I don’t forget what they’re for.

My cheeks are blazing, and my heart is pounding wildly. I don’t have it in me to face him, to witness him judging me—or worse, to see disgust in his eyes.

“Why is my name on this list, Serenity? What the fuck is this list?”

My jaw snaps shut as I grab my notebook and hold it to my chest. “I’d argue that it’s pretty self-explanatory.” My tone is defensive, despite the shame that eats at me.

Archer places his index finger underneath my chin. “Look at me.” I’m tempted to refuse him, but then he sighs and steps closer. “Please, Serenity.”

I raise my eyes, my heart beating wildly. There’s no judgment in his expression, just confusion, and something else…something I’ve never seen before. “You were never meant to see that,” I admit. “I’ve just been creating all these lists to help me get over Theo, and I told you that there are certain things I wanted to experience, didn’t I? This is just one of them. I know you would never want to…dothat…with me, but I just—”

“Then you must know me better than I know myself.”

My eyes widen, shock crashing through me when his words register. His hand falls away, something akin to regret taking hold of his features, almost like he just realized what he said. “Serenity,” he begins to say, only for footsteps to sound nearby.

I hear Ezra call my name and glance at the door Dad left open furtively. “You won’t tell him, will you?”

Archer stares at me and runs a hand through his hair. “I ought to,” he murmurs. He sighs and steps back, his gaze traveling to the notebook I’m still holding on to for dear life. “I won’t tell him, but you and Iwilltalk about this.”

Eight

Archer

“Don’t worry so much.” I tell my father as I straighten his golden Father of the Bride pin, glad it’s just the two of us in the room. Mom and Dad have done all they can to keep my grandfather and me apart while trying to be discreet about it, and I appreciate it more than they’ll ever know, but it wasn’t necessary. As it stands, Serenity’s list has occupied all my thoughts to the extent that seeing my grandfather hardly even registers. All I’ve been able to think about is the way she’s been avoiding me and the way she felt against me on the sofa—and then again in her bedroom.

“What if we’re just condemning Celeste to even more years filled with pure unhappiness?” Dad asks, his expression torn. “Have you seen her lately? I barely recognize her.”

I shake my head, my gaze drifting to the whiskey bottle on the dresser in his hotel room. “We’re not,” I reassure him. “Haven’t you noticed how she’s regained that fire in her eyes? She’s no longer listless, going through the motions aimlessly. Just being around Zane again makes her come alive. I’d take an infuriated Celeste over the version of her that wasn’t truly living.”

Dad nods and reaches for the bottle, staring at it for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. I can pretty much guess what he’s thinking. Zane, my sister’s fiancé, gave him that priceless bottle the first time he came over for dinner, many years ago.

Neither of us had been accepting of Zane and Celeste’s relationship, in part due to the years-long rivalry between our families and the resulting feud between Zane and Celeste growing up. They went from hating each other and continuously attempting to sabotage each other in high school, to falling in love shortly after Celeste returned from college overseas, and neither Dad nor I could quite understand it.

In hindsight, those years were the happiest I’ve ever seen either of them. If I could go back in time, I’d have been accepting of them sooner, and I’d have questioned them both a little harder when their relationship went up in flames.

“Let’s go have a chat with Zane before the ceremony,” Dad says, tightening his grip on the bottle before handing it to me. I nod hesitantly and put the bottle back in the bag Dad wrapped it in.

He seems conflicted as we walk to Zane’s room in his hotel, and truthfully, I feel the same way. I won’t admit it, but I’m just as scared we made the wrong choice when we pressured Celeste into this arranged marriage. After all, neither of us knows why they broke up. All we saw was the aftermath, the mutual destruction.

I take a deep breath before knocking, my mind made up. Celeste might hate us for this, but I’ll take that over watching her waste away.

Zane pulls the door open swiftly, both his movements and his expression betraying his irritation, only for shock to take over his features. It’s clear he was expecting his four brothers. Even after all these years, I can still read him the way I used to. After all, throughout the years that Zane and Celeste dated, he became my best friend. I wascloser to him than I was to Ezra, and I always thought he’d become my brother-in-law. He was family. Still is.

“Can we come in?” Dad asks.

Zane nods and stands aside to let us in, and I hesitate before following Dad to the small seating area in the corner, not quite sure what to do or say. Zane hovers by the door for a moment, and then he follows us, sitting down next to Dad. “I didn’t expect…this,” he says, his voice softer and kinder than I’d anticipated. It’s clear he wants no part in this marriage either, but I suspect that, deep down, he knows he’d never walk away from a chance to make Celeste his wife.

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