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23
Lena
I’m drunk. Ruby’s not-boyfriend is definitely young and immature, but he’s funny, and I’ve been keeping myself amused watching her try to escape his very quick hands. I haven’t talked to Archer yet. Every time I’ve caught sight of him, Loralei has been hanging off his side and I’ve wanted to puke. I’ve stopped looking because if I’m going to throw up tonight, it’ll be from all the booze I’m drinking. Right now, I’m working really hard on getting wasted. When I go home alone later, I’m going to cry myself to sleep, and examine all my life choices.
“How’s it going, punk?” Ruby’s voice makes its way into my thoughts. Following her gaze, I spot Archer and his clinger joining our little group. God, can she just get off his ass? Why isn’t he telling her to back the fuck off?
“It’s good, Ruby. You look like you’re feeling no pain.”
God, if only the same could be said about me.
Archer hooks a finger in Ruby’s cup and pulls it toward him for a look. She swats him away and his eyes make their way to me. Archer looks lickable tonight. Not that he doesn’t always, but he’s dressed down in jeans and a fitted sweater peeking out beneath a dark gray military jacket. He looks rugged and masculine and yet still so composed.
He hasn’t said hello to me, but he hasn’t stopped staring since Ruby pushed him away from her drink. Magic swells up under my skin, and then I’m seeing auras around everyone. Archer’s is a bright red, and I sift through my booze-soaked mind to recall what that means. According to the books I found, which are of questionable accuracy, each color has a positive and negative side. Depending on what the person’s emotional state is, the color could represent something good or bad. Red means anger, but it also means passion or lust. As if to remind me she’s there, Loralei squeezes Archer’s arm and whispers something to him.
We’ve been hanging out near the fire all night, but it’s suddenly too hot. I unbutton my coat and flip it open, but it’s not enough. Taking a few steps back, I set my drink on an overturned tree stump. Ruby’s lost in animated conversation with someone, but I don’t know who because all I can think about is getting away from the fire. Away from Archer and the woman hanging all over him.
I don’t bother telling her I’m going for a walk. I sneak away and try to catch the breath that keeps evading me for some reason. An invisible band compresses my chest, making it critical that I escape the light of the fire and any watchful eyes. I don’t run. I manage to keep my pace steady until I reach the woods, hoping no one can guess at the turmoil in my heart and mind.
I walk a few minutes before leaning back against an ancient red oak tree. Closing my eyes and rubbing my hand over my chest, I inhale deep breaths. This was what I asked for, right? Space. Distance. To go back to being just friends.
The snap of a twig has my eyes popping open and my head swiveling around. A dark shape approaches and my heart leaps up into my throat. I curse, hand slapped over my runaway heartbeat when I realize it’s Archer, but then my pulse kicks up another notch for a different reason.
“You alright, Lena?” Archer moves until he’s right in front of me, his scent wrapping around me like a physical embrace. My eyes almost slide close, but I keep him in my sight. I should run away. I’m definitely drunk and that means my filter is down. Damn, I know this about myself. Why did I think it was a good idea to get drunk around him?
“I’m fine. Why don’t you go back to the fire? I’m sure Loralei is looking for you.”
It’s so dark in the woods that I can barely make out his face. Any light from the moon is all but blocked by the canopy of trees. The oak I’m leaning against might not have any leaves on it right now, but the spruce and pine trees keep the woods covered.
“Are you sick?” Archer takes a step closer, and my body doesn’t know how to react. I want to reach out, but it’s probably best to walk away. Instead, I stay stuck there, not moving at all.
“Why would I be sick?”
“You took off into the woods. Not an unreasonable conclusion.”
Well, I was sick of looking at the flirting and touching, sick of not touching him. Sick of whatever game we’re playing. I don’t say any of that out loud, though.
“What are you doing out here?” A part of my filter washes away.
Archer scratches his jaw, and I hear the rasp of stubble. Now that he’s so close, I can make out a few days' growth of a beard. Archer’s always freshly shaven. I think I’ve only seen him with a five o’clock shadow a handful of times. It’s then that I notice the dark circles under his eyes as well. He looks tired.
“I’m checking on you. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Archer sounds surprised at my question.
“Why?”
I can feel the heat from his body, and I almost take my coat off. I’m so damn hot.
“Why? Really, Luna? You’re my friend.”
I scoff, and Archer’s head lurches back at the sound.
“What? We aren’t friends anymore?”
God, I need to get a hold of myself, of my emotions.
“No, Arch, we’re friends.”
Archer’s hand skims up my thigh, my hip, moving underneath my jacket and settling on my waist. His other hand lands on the tree over my head and his big body pins me there, his mouth near my ear. My breath catches as his hard body presses into me, and I can feel the pounding of my pulse everywhere.
