Page 42 of Beautiful Thing

But Archer still hasn’t moved a muscle or uttered a word. I cringe, immediately wanting to backtrack when I realize how bratty all that sounded out loud.

Now I feel even worse.Damn. I really fucked up.

“I mean, I’m sorry.” I sink back into my seat. “I really am. Jeez—you don’t need my help dealing with your family. Opening my mouth was stupid of me. I could apologize. To your mom, that is.” I nod with conviction. “Yeah. I’ll go see your mom and your grandma tomorrow, and I’ll tell them the truth and apologize for this whole mess.”

Archer’s head turns slowly as he moves to look at me. For the first time in what feels like forever, he speaks. “Maybe…maybe this will work.”

I blink. “What?”

“Maybe we could just…pretend.” His gaze meets mine across the console.

“Pretend…?” I echo, my throat closing up around the word.

“Pretend to be dating…” Archer says hesitantly. “Just for a little while. We could pretend to be dating. And then my mother will leave me alone. My grandma will get off my back.” His eyes hold onto mine. “If you’re up to it, of course. I don’t want to pressure you into anything.”

I shake my head quickly, my heart rate skyrocketing. Again—I say something I shouldn’t. “I don’t feel pressured.”

“You…don’t?” he questions, still sounding unsure of himself.

Shaking the fear off my shoulders, I try to give off an air of confidence. “Yes. Let’s pretend to be dating. It will be like paying you back for all the ways you’ve helped me. Hell—you’re letting me stay at your house for three months, rent-free. This is the least I could do.”

His brows dip down over beautiful, doubtful brown eyes. “Really? You’ll do it?”

“Really.” I nod. A little too eagerly.

We could do this. It would be easy. We could totally pull this off…right?

My eyes fall to the plump lips framed by his rough, scruffy beard. My pulse skips a beat as I can’t seem to look away. Because now I’m wondering exactly what this fake-dating deal will entail.

I don’t know if he’s a mindreader or what, because Archer immediately addresses what I’m thinking, throwing a bucket of ice water on my fantasies.

“Just one rule,” he says, his voice quieter now.

My eyes shoot to his and I wait.

“No kissing.”

Any excitement I was feeling immediately shrivels up and dies.What?

His head drops and he drags his palms down the length of his thighs, suddenly looking agitated. “Just…no kissing.”

My jaw unhinges. “Wait. You’ve never kiss—”

“I’ve done it before,” he rushes to correct me. “I just don’t”—he clears his throat—“I just don’t do it anymore.”

He doesn’t do…kissing?

I blink, trying to chase off any traces of my visceral reaction. I’m surprised and I’m confused and I’m disappointed all at once.

“Oh, uh, okay. Sure. No kissing. Of course.” I nod and nod and nod.

On the outside, I try to give off a nonchalant, cool girl vibe. Internally, I’m already starting to question what exactly I’ve gotten myself into.

But Archer appears way more confident about this scheme than I feel. He smiles a faint, wicked, heart-stopping smile. It’s dark and it’s delicious and I’ve never seen anything like it.

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

16

---