Page 24 of Boo-ty Calls
Hot water warms me, and I stretch as all the tension leaves my body. Sleepiness fleets past me, but I shake it off and grab the hard book to write his card.
Once I’m done, I fold the envelope and wash my body with my favourite body wash. Lying back, I enjoy the hot water.
“Dinner’s ready.”
“Coming,” I shout back and pull the plug.
Grabbing a towel, I quickly dry off before getting into comfy clothes and snatching a hoodie off the back of the door so I can hold all the heat to my body.
“Thank you for making dinner. It smells amazing,” I tell him once I reach the kitchen. The vegetables and potatoes I did earlier fill half of our plates, but the other side is a juicy-looking rare steak.
“Of course. Television?” he asks, and I stare at him like it’s our first date.
“Duh? Like we’d ever eat a different way. What? Talk to each other?”
Archer chuckles, and we head to the living room. Sitting on the couch, he loads our favourite series, and I lean against him as we eat.
The steak melts in my mouth, and the vegetable marinade was a solid choice. “These are impeccable, see? I’d be fine without you.”
“You’d eat cold marinated vegetables and raw potatoes. The intention is always there, but we both know you’d wait until the last minute and eat everything in your path, or better yet, you’d put it on the grill and walk away until the fire department came.”
I scrunch my face at his ability to know me so damn well. “Fine, that’s fair, but I make a mean cheese and crackers.” Placing my fork and knife on the plate, I lean forward and set them on the coffee table.
“True, so scurvy might get you, but otherwise you’d be solid.”
Nudging him, I lean against him, cuddling as we watch the show. I have a lot of favourite places with Archer. Feeling safe in his arms will always be number one, even if I’d never tell him.
We shouldn’t fit together the way we do, but it works so flawlessly and has been the most solid piece of my life. Finding each other after years of trauma and bullshit was like fate or some shit, or totally accidental. Either way, I’m forever grateful.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“Not as much as I love you. Now let me up. Don’t fall asleep. I’m going to load the dishwasher, and then we can go to bed.”
I pull away from him with a grudge, but he’s right. “I forgot your card upstairs. Let me go get it and we can head to bed,” I tell him and kiss his cheek.
Archer turns and captures my lips, deepening the kiss and leaving me almost breathless. “Just glad you’re mine, even if you’re always trying to get rid of me.” He chuckles and grabs our plates before heading to the kitchen.
Running up the stairs like a monster might catch me, I look around the bedroom but can’t find where I leftthe card.
This is why Archer is right. He always finds everything for me. Glancing in the bathroom, I see the black envelope and grab it.
Turning on our show in the bedroom, I adjust the pillows and lower the volume a bit, but make sure the subtitles are on. Then I hear a loud crash and scurry to the window. Looking around, I don’t see anything.
Leaning against the wall, I wait for the usual dramatic screams of the neighbourhood, but there’s nothing. Shrugging, I turn on my heated side of the bed and trot down the stairs to the kitchen.
Everything is off the counters, but he’s nowhere to be found. I creep around the island to the other side and see Archer lying across the open dishwasher.
Blood trickles on the floor, causing me to gasp. I inch closer to check his pulse, but there’s nothing. My mouth falls open, and the room spins.
Nothing makes sense, and I can hear my heartbeat galloping, a brief sense of anger covering me.
“Jesus Christ, Archer, if you didn’t want to clean up after dinner, you just had to say that. Didn’t have to be so fucking dramatic and die.”
Ten
Archer
Istand in the kitchen staring at Sloane, gasping for air. I walk toward her, but my movements are different. It’s as if quicksand traps my feet, and I wonder if this is why I worried so much about it when I was a child.
