Page 58 of Shadow of Spring (Wild Haven 2)

“Just friends?” Archer whispers in my ear. His breath is warm, painting my skin as his mouth hovers just over the edge of my jaw.

“What are you doing?” My voice cracks and I hate myself for my weakness.

“I thought we already established that. I’m checking on my friend.” Archer runs his nose along the edge of my jaw and something fractures inside me.

Pressing my hands to his chest, I shove him away. He’s a hell of a lot stronger than I am. I know if he didn’t want to move, I couldn’t have made him, but he takes a step back.

“I thought we agreed this was a mistake.”

“No. You came to the conclusion that this was a mistake. You didn’t ask my opinion. You made that decision all on your own.”

I want to tell him he’s wrong, but he’s not.

“I’m trying to do the right thing. I don’t want to hurt anyone.” The words are rushed. I sound defensive, but I can’t help it. As much as I want to ignore Ruby’s lecture from earlier, and what I know deep down in my heart, I can’t. I’ve been closing myself back off.

“What about me?”

I gape at him, uncertain how to answer. So many thoughts whirl through my head, but I don’t know if I can say any of them. I suck in my lower lip and bite down on the flesh. Archer must see my indecision because he curses. Closing his eyes, his head tilts toward the sky as he pulls in a deep breath. It takes him a minute to open his eyes again, but when he does, I see the anger burning there.

“Stop holding yourself back from me, Lena. You bottle all your emotions up, shoving them down deep, as if that will keep you safe. Do you know what that does? It keeps you from living. So, say whatever you want and stop hiding behind your fears.” Archer’s body is tense, every muscle taut as a bow.

It could be the alcohol, or maybe it’s because it’s Archer, but I don’t want to keep shoving all these feelings away.

“You can walk away from all this and be fine, Archer. You’ll keep living life and smiling and all the shit will be sunny, but I will be devastated.” I hiccup the last word, my emotions choking me, but I don’t push them away. He wanted me to unbury them, well here you go. “I know I said we could keep this casual, but I can’t. I was lying. It was never casual for me. It’s always been you.”

“Lena.” Archer steps back into me. His body relaxes into mine, some of the tension releasing from his muscles. “That’s not true.”

Fear rears its head again. Instead of letting him keep going, probably to let me down gently, I blurt out the thing that’s been bothering me for the past few weeks, since we started this thing between us. “You haven’t even kissed me.”

Archer pulls back to look at me, and I wish I could see his expression better. His breaths wash over my parted lips; that’s how close he is. The hand on my waist squeezes while his other leaves the tree and cups my cheek. His thumb brushes over my bottom lip and my head tips back. My heart rears up and flips inside my chest. This is such a mistake.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Oh, hell, that command is back in his voice. The one that he only uses when he’s telling me to bend over or get down on my knees. It makes me all wobbly, but still, why do guys always do this? Answer a question with another question. Why do I have to be the one to be exposed, fragile? Why am I the one who has to lay it all on the line?

If I say yes and he walks away, I don’t think I’ll recover. I’ve dreamed of kissing Archer since I was just a kid. It would kill me if he said no. It’s more than that, though. The frightened, abused girl that lives inside me, the one who was told she was worthless, unlovable, a waste of space, doesn’t believe she deserves Archer. And if he tells me no, then it will only confirm all those terrible things about me.

I want to believe I’ve thrown sand over that fire, and it can’t rage out of control, but I know better. Archer has power over me that no one else does and that scares the hell out of me. Anger overtakes my vulnerability, wrapping all those delicate feelings in stone.

“What do you want?” I push back, my stomach roiling with nerves.

Kissing might make this all so much worse. If he kisses me, is there any way I can keep my heart from getting ripped to shreds when all this ends? We’re standing on a precipice. His words will be the difference between us before and after. It’s somehow both the most amazing feeling in the world and the worst. There’s excitement and anticipation, but the fear is a heavy mantle. I think I might be sick.

Archer’s thumb presses down on my bottom lip. My breath is stuck in my chest, waiting to see what comes next.

“I’ve thought about these lips more times than I can count. On my body, wrapped around my dick, and I’ve definitely thought about kissing them until they're swollen and bruised from mine.”

I sag against the tree, my knees threatening to give out from his words. There’s a buzzing in my ears from the rush of blood leaving my head. He’s thought about kissing me.

“Have you thought about my lips, my tongue, teasing yours apart, tasting you?” I stare into Archer’s eyes and find my own emotions reflected back at me. Need, adoration, love.

I make a sound that’s too close to a whimper for my liking. Somehow, my hands have made their way up his body and I’m clutching his sweater. Heat radiates from him. My head is swimming, and I just...want.

Archer’s fingers grip my chin, not hard but enough to angle my head to look at him. I can see the glint in his eye, even if I can’t make out their beautiful color in this light. “Answer me, Luna.”

“Yes,” I gasp, not able to fight against the demand that makes me weak.

“Do you touch yourself when you think about my mouth on you?”

Oh God, why is this so hot? Why does this push all my buttons, the ones I never knew I had? Is it just because it’s Archer, or has he figured out exactly what I need? Exactly how I want someone to tell me what to do so I can stop thinking. Still, I can’t resist pushing back, because I’m drunk and I’m still pissed about fucking Jean Jammer, and whatever weird bullshit dance we’ve been doing.

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