Page 63 of Knotting With A Stranger

LILY

I’m too wired to even consider sleep. My lips still tingle from Hunter’s kiss, and my mind keeps replaying the confrontation with James. What a damn mess. I’ve somehow managed to get entangled with not one but three impossibly attractive men in the span of two days. And the storm outside keeps howling like it’s enjoying my predicament.

A soft knock at my door freezes me mid-step. My heart performs an Olympic-level gymnastics routine in my chest. Hunter? After our kiss. Or James? Has he come to explain himself further? To apologize for the deception? I’m not ready for round two of that emotional roller coaster—not when I’m still sorting through the complicated feelings his revelation stirred up.

Thor’s head pops up, sniffs the air, then plops back down, confirming it’s not a danger.

I don’t answer the knock, hoping whoever it is will assume I’m asleep and go away. I’ve hit my quota of drama for one night, thank you very much.

“Lily? You still breathing in there, or did Hunter’s kiss actually kill you?” Archer’s voice, playful yet somehow concerned, filters through the door.

I smirk to myself, warmth curling in my chest. Archer always makes things feel lighter, as though I’m not drowning in the mess of my own emotions. With him, it’s easy to breathe—even when my world is anything but.

I don’t hesitate and move quickly toward the door, cracking it open just enough to peek through.

“If I say I’m dead, will you go away?” I tease.

My breath locks in my lungs at the sight of him. Archer stands with one hand propped against the doorframe, his tall frame backlit by the dim hallway lights. The shadows dance across the sharp angles of his face, highlighting those ridiculous cheekbones. His brown hair, which looks like it would be silk between my fingers, falls even more messily around his face.

I’ve dated attractive men before, but Archer belongs in another category entirely—the kind of beauty that’s almost painful to look at directly, like staring at the sun after being in a cave. His black V-neck stretches across broad shoulders, and even in the dim light, I can see the definition of muscle under the fabric. A silver chain glints at his throat, disappearing beneath his collar.

“Hi,” I manage.

“Just making sure you didn’t spontaneously combust from all that... tension downstairs,” he says, the corners of his mouth lifting. “You bolted out of there like your ass was on fire.”

“Yeah, well, finding out your texting buddy was in prison while you were spilling your guts to him, followed by straddling and making out with his friend... let’s just say my night’s been more eventful than my entire last year,” I reply, leaning against the frame. “I should start charging admission to the disaster that is my life.”

Archer’s eyebrow quirks up. “I’d pay to watch. Seriously though, you okay? James can be a real piece of work sometimes.”

“Defineokay.” I laugh, the sound slightly unhinged even to my own ears. “I’m trapped in a snowstorm with three men who look like they walked out of some romance novel cover shoot. I mean, do you guys moisturize with unicorn tears or something? One of whom I’ve been secretly crushing on for weeks despite never having met him, another whose kiss nearly made me forget my own name, and then there’s you—” I cut myself off, realizing I’m rambling like a lunatic.

“There’s me,” he repeats, taking a small step closer. “What about me, Lily?”

The bourbon is still humming in my veins, making me bolder than I should be. “You’re the one who insisted Hunter and I kiss. Was that your twisted plan all along? Or do you just enjoy watching?”

“My plan?” He raises an eyebrow. “I assure you, I don’t usually play matchmaker for Hunter. Man gets plenty of action without my help.” He leans in slightly, close enough that I can smell his cologne—something woodsy with a hint of spice. “And for the record, I much prefer participating to watching.”

“Could have fooled me,” I retort, but I’m smiling now, too, despite myself. There’s something about Archer that lures me to him, even as he sets my nerves on fire. “And what was with the impromptu strip show? A warning would have been nice. I wasn’t prepared to see... all of that.”

He laughs, the sound rich and warm, spreading through me like honey. “You dared me to take off my pants. I took off my pants. I’m a man of simple logic.” His gaze glitters with unrepentant devilry. “And I never pass up an opportunity to make a memorable impression. Judging by how red you turned, mission accomplished.”

“Mission traumatized,” I mutter, fighting a grin. “I’ll need therapy for years. Possibly decades.”

“Liar,” he states softly, leaning in just slightly. “You liked what you saw. Your eyes did this thing,”—he widens his own eyes in an exaggerated expression of shock that morphs into appreciation—“before you pretended to be horrified.”

Heat floods my cheeks, but I refuse to back down. “You seem very confident for someone who might have caused me psychological damage.”

“Oh, I’m always confident,” he says with a grin that should come with a warning label. “It’s part of my charm. That, and my big?—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” I interrupt, holding up a finger.

“—heart,” he finishes innocently. “What did you think I was going to say?”

“Nothing gentlemanly, that’s for sure.”

My pulse stumbles, betraying me. The teasing should be easy to brush off—I’ve handled his shameless flirting before—but there’s something different this time. Fire lingers in his gaze, a challenge, a promise. My breath catches for half a second before I force myself to roll my eyes, pretending I’m not affected. But my body knows the truth. And so does he.

“Guilty as charged.” His gaze drops to my lips momentarily. “It was hard, you know.”

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