Page 28 of Pretty Lies & Ugly Truths

He speaks fondly about his stepfather, but there’s a definite sadness in his words, and I don’t miss the way he talks about him in past tense. I wonder what happened, but I know it’s none of my business, so I don’t pry.

“And what about your biological dad? Do you ever talk to him?”

He shrugs.

“I used to, but not really anymore,” His face hardens, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Let’s just say we had a falling out of sorts.”

I can sense that this is a touchy subject for him, so I try to switch back to a safer subject, but somehow, only wind up making it worse.

“So, do you have other siblings?”

His expression falls, and immediately, I wish I could take the question back.

He doesn’t speak, just nods once before turning awayto stare out over the muddy water of the Savannah River. He’s quiet for so long, I assume that’s all the answer I’m going to get but…eventually, he looks back at me with such a tortured expression, my heart squeezes in my chest.

“I have a half-brother and sister on my dad’s side, Easton and Violet. And…Jayce and I—we had a younger sister, Cecelia. She died a few years back,” he says.

“Oh my God! Archer I’m so sorry,” I gasp, my hand reaching out to cover his where it rests on the table. I know there are no words that could take away the pain of losing a loved one but still, wanting to offer any comfort I can.

He remains silent, his gaze frosting over as he glares at where our hands are joined on the table. His nostrils flare and he flexes his hand before wrenching it out from under mine.

I draw mine back, burying it between my legs in my lap.

My appetite now gone, a queasy feeling takes root in my gut.

How could you be so careless?I chastise myself. This is the second time I have touched him, and he has made it clear by his actions that he doesn’t like it. And though it’s not an excuse, I just feel this strange connection to him and sometimes, it’s easy to forget he is practically a stranger.

Way to go Maggie.

Too afraid I’ll say or do the wrong thing again, I spend the rest of our meal picking at my food in silence.

When we arrive backto Archer’s house later that night, we both walk silently up the stairs to our respective rooms.

The rest of the evening was wrought with heavy tension that made our grocery trip together almost unbearable.

The guilt I feel is overwhelming, and even though I know it was unintentional, I still can’t help but want to do something to fix my mistake. I know there is no way I will be able to sleep if I don’t find a way to somehow make this right.

I stop him before he can disappear to his room.

“Archer, wait—” I call out, and he turns eyes flashing to where I am touching him…again.I curse low under my breath, quickly drawing back my hand as if burned.

“Shit! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to touch you again, not when you obviously don’t like it. I should’ve have known to keep my hands to myself. I just…I wanted to say I’m sorry for earlier, bringing up bad memories. I—I didn’t know,” I say quietly to the floor.

When he doesn’t respond, I chance a glance. Gone is the stony mask he usually favors. In its place he wears a dangerous and fiery expression. His grey eyes are like molten steel that heats my skin, stoking the embers of desire that simmer deep in my belly.

Confused by the intensity of his reaction and the feelings they stir in me, I start walking backwards, hoping to retreat to the safety of my room before I get burned.But for every one step I take back he takes one forward, stalking me until there is nowhere left to run.

The air whooshes out of my lungs when my back hits the wall. My heart races as his strong arms come up to cage me in. If this is his way of trying to intimidate me, I’d say it’s working, but I’ll be damned if I lethimknow that.

Squaring my shoulders, I continue to hold his stare, refusing to back down.

“IsaidI was sorry.”

The laugh he lets out is low and menacing as his hooded eyes rake over my body.

I can feel my nipples harden to stiff points and my thighs clench, trying to relieve the ache in my center.

He runs his nose along the column of my neck, inhaling deeply. “Is that what you think, Little Rose? That I don’t like your touch?”

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