Page 237 of Vicious Saint
“Miladies!” He sloshes the drink. “I totally killed it with this one.”
Bex and I reassured him at least a handful of times how great he’s done planning the party, but ever since the night I caught him with Riggs, it seems no amount of assurance is enough for Archer.
Constant comments…like how good he looks and how well he’s doing in classes. Even getting flirtier than usual.
By “usual” I mean at all, since I can count on two fingers the amount of times he pursued a girl he was crushing on. The rules, the books, the incessant need to be perfect has always been a crutch of his.
To those on the outside Archer looks as though he’s finally breaking out of his uptight shell.
But not to me.
I can spot the hint of sadness in his charming smile with my eyes closed. The doubt in every stroke of his ego. Archer may not have told me what happened between him, Riggs, and the fire, but his behavior speaks loud enough on how much he’s hurting.
Since Bex is also aware of the state he’s been in, she does the glorifying honors with a clumsy hug. “Totally killed it, dude!”
Archer throws back whatever alcohol is left in his glass, handing it off to a server before stumbling over to a blonde he catches eyeing him.
“What the fuck, dude?” Bex comments as soberly as possible. “When are we gonna address the stranger in the room?”
We stop dancing and step off to the side. “What are we supposed to do? Force a truth outta him he’s not ready to tell?”
“Maybe it’ll help.”
“No, Bex, the truth about bad choices doesn’t always help.”
I should know, Saint’s are still ripping me apart.
Regret tinges the delicate features of Bex’s face, likely figuring I’m right. “Yeah, I guess you’ve got a point.”
“When Archer’s ready, he’ll tell us.”
She pouts, then jumps when her phone lights up in her jeans pocket. “Shit. That’s gotta be Roman.” After a quick shimmy and brush of fingers through her hair, Bex says, “We’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?”
“Yes ma’am. Say fuck off to Cray for me.”
“You got it.” She kisses my cheek. “Take care of our Good Guy and be safe, m’kay?”
I reassure her again, then offer to walk her to the car with Carlo.
Naturally, Bex declines, because she’ll be calling her boyfriend the second her pink flats hit the trail to the parking lot.
Bex offers a quick wave over to Archer, who’s busy dancing with the blonde, then takes off like the wind to her stepdad.
Carlo asks about Bex’s abrupt exit as we meander to the bar, so I explain that she’s going home the best I can.
Guess I did alright, because he dips his head in approval.
Carlo’s phone rings and he steps a few feet away, so with a quick plop of my ass onto a barstool, I call over the bartender and whisper for a Rum and Pepsi.
Yes,Pepsi, because I’m a creature of habit.
“Ballsy one, huh?” Cute chocolate haired bartender smirks as he gets going on my drink.
“What can I say? I stay living on the edge.”
“Surprised given the scary dude with a pistol.”
“Carlo isn’t scary.” I rear my head in offense, even though I’m not sure why. “I mean…look at his sparkly micro bag.”
