Page 158 of A Little Complicated

“Don’t worry, my boys get their patience from their dad,” she quips. “And Henry has the patience of a saint for putting up with me all these years.”

With a breath of laughter, I argue, “Give yourself a little more credit, Aunt Mia. You’re kind of awesome.”

“Fine, but only if you give yourself a little more credit too.” She nudges her shoulder with mine. “You’re going to do excellent at school, both on and off the ice.”

“I’m trying,” I admit.

“I can tell.” Her touch is gentle as she pats my hand clinging to the railing as if she can feel my nerves buzzing beneath my skin and wants to soothe them. “But don’t be afraid to ask for help if you need it. Your family’s here for you. I’m here for you. And my boys aredefinitelyhere for you.”

“Thanks,” I whisper. “Some days, I feel like I don’t deserve them.”

“You do,” she asserts, “but I get it. They’re good eggs.”

“Yeah, they really are.”

Her eyes bulge. “Shit, the eggs. I gotta go. We’ll catch up some more later.” She rushes inside, and I start to laugh, but the sound catches in my throat when a familiar face replaces Aunt Mia’s retreating form in the doorway.

Archer.

My breath stalls, and I stay frozen in place, unsure of what to do or how to act. I haven’t texted him since the party, and he hasn’t bothered to reach out to me. But now, I’m here, and it’s obvious he’sstillkeeping his parents in the dark regarding our relationship, along with everything else, leaving me with more questions than answers.

But after everything I’ve put Archer through, do I even deserve an explanation?

I feel like there’s a stick of dynamite strapped to my chest, and Archer’s finger is on the trigger as he slides the glass door closed behind him and strides toward me on long, muscular legs.

His expression is tight. Guarded. But the malice from the party is missing, and a small ember of hope flares inside me. Maybe we’ll get through this. Maybe he’ll be able to forgive me.

“I take it you didn’t tell her?” he asks.

I swallow and shake my head. “You mean about my relationship with Mav or my relationship with you?”

Mirroring my movements, he shakes his head and mutters, “Both.”

Kovu perks up when he recognizes his family member approaching us, and his tail swishes back and forth, hitting my calf. Archer gives him a half-assed scratch behind his ear, stands, and throttles the railing. His knuckles are white from the pressure as he leans against it and faces the rolling hills.

His silence kills me. We’ve never struggled with communication. With telling each other how we feel. With anything, really. We’ve always clicked. And now we’re not. It sucks.

“We agreed to keep things under wraps from our families to prove we were still friends, remember?” I smile tenderly. “I guess I’m still holding out for it.” Peeking at him, I start, “Archer, I’m—”

“Don’t say it. Not after the shit I pulled at the party.”

I nod, sucking my lips between my teeth while staring at his tight, set jaw. But the silence is too much. Too thick. Too heavy.

“We’ve both made a lot of mistakes, but I’m pretty sure messing with Maverick takes the cake,” I point out.

“I shouldn’t have outed you the way I did. It was between you and me, and I messed up.” He runs his tongue along his teeth but keeps his focus glued in front of him as he adds, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. You know I don’t usually drink, so when I found out Mav was your mystery man, and I saw you sitting next to him, I—”

“How did you figure out he’s Mystery Man?” I interrupt.

His teeth grind, but he forces out, “Tatum told me.”

Tatum.

My own little sister.

I should be mad at her, but I can’t drum up the energy.

Besides, Archer deserved the truth, even if I was too much of a coward to give it to him. I should’ve told him Maverick was Mystery Man from the beginning. I should’ve told everyone. If I had, we wouldn’t be in this mess. None of us would.

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