Page 8 of A Little Complicated

I do love Archer. I’ve always loved him.

Would it be so bad to be with someone Iknowwould never break my heart?

Nibbling my bottom lip, I mumble, “I can’t promise you anything.”

“All I need is a chance, Lia. A chance to convince you I’m worth your time.”

And even though I’m as confused as before, it’s nice. Seeing his resolution. His determination. His adoration.

“Let me think about it,” I whisper.

“Like I said, whatever you need.”

Leaning into his touch, I push aside the betrayal filtering through me. “We’ll see.”

1

OPHELIA

A few weeks later

“You really think this is a good idea, Blake?” my dad asks as he sets the final cardboard box down in the center of the cluttered family room of my new home for the next four years.

“Come on, Teddy,” my mom urges, using my dad’s nickname. “When the girls decided to attend LAU, we agreed it was best to have the boys stay close and keep an eye on them.”

“That was before my oldest daughter started dating one of them.” My dad gives me a pointed look from beneath the brim of his worn baseball hat. Placing his hands on his lower back, he arches it, probably hoping it’ll ease the ache he’s been complaining about ever since he tweaked it a few years ago while playing hockey. I doubt it helps much.

Maverick ghosted me after prom. I texted him fourteen times—I counted—and the asshole didn’t bother to respond even once. I called him too—seventeen times, to be exact—but he ignored those too.

And since he clearly didn’t care enough about me to give me the time of day, I decided to try and move on, too, even if it’s with his brother.

Maybe it’s stupid—okay, it probably is—but I was best friends with Archer long before Maverick and I started hooking up. I’ve known each of them individually for so long it doesn’t feel strange or wrong. Then again, I’ve never really compared Archer with Maverick, even when we were all kids, so…I don’t know.

Why should Maverick have any control over what I do or don’t do anymore, anyway?

He shouldn’t.

I won't let him.

With that in mind, I started hanging out with Archer in a less platonic way. It’s easier than I thought it would be. Effortless almost. I shouldn’t be surprised. We were used to talking every day. Now, a few kisses are thrown in here and there when we hang out, and we cuddle when watching movies. Otherwise? It’s pretty much the same. Our parents have taken a little while to get used to it, despite their constant joking about us getting married once we’re older. When I pointed out it was kind of my mom’s fault because she’s the one who suggested Archer take me to prom in the first place, she accepted my new relationship with open arms, grateful I wasn’t wallowing in self-pity or heartbreak. Thankfully, Archer’s parents did the same.

It’s kind of funny in anI-want-to-claw-my-eyes-outsort of way. How much I dreaded telling my parents and their friends about a relationship between me and one of their kids and how supportive they’ve been.

If I’d only known.

“Just because Lia’s dating one of the twins doesn’t mean all of our plans should implode,” my mom scolds from across the family room.

“Yeah,” I pipe in. “It wasn’t my idea for you and your friends to build a massive house for all of your kids to stay in. Pretty sure if you wanna blame anyone, you should look in the mirror, old man.”

“Har, har,” he grumbles. “The decision was made before I remembered what it was like to attend LAU while living at the Taylor House when I was your age. You can’t blame an old man for wanting to keep his baby safe.”

Ah, the Taylor House.

I’ve heard stories. Lots of them. I wondered when he would bring up his college shenanigans with his friends. The original Taylor House was owned by my grandparents, and my dad took full advantage by offering housing to the entire LAU hockey team under the guise of building camaraderie. I’m pretty sure it was more along the lines of making things easier for puck bunnies to warm the players’ beds, but what do I know?

The Taylor House must not have been all bad since my parents and their friends agreed to invest in a massive duplex near LAU’s campus as soon as their kids started reaching college age. One side is for the girls, the other for the boys. It was either a clever decision or a ludicrous one, though it’s too early to tell.

Jaxon, my oldest cousin, was the first to enroll at LAU after receiving a full-ride hockey scholarship. Next, my cousin, Everett, joined him, then Jaxon’s little brother, and the twins were accepted on the roster. Now, here I am, attending LAU like the rest of them.

---