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Archer’s face wasn’t that hard to read when Pauline offered the ride. He so clearly preferred Brielle’s idea, but Pauline was a force to be reckoned with.
So now she was in the passenger seat of Pauline’s van in front of Archer in the one and only seat behind her. Pauline had strapped Archer’s chair in—apparently some of her patients just continued to sit in their chairs when she had them in her car, but Archer had insisted on sitting in the van’s bucket seat. It had taken him a short while, but Pauline’s vehicle was equipped perfectly to make it easier for him with grab bars and a ramp that lowered so he could make the step up.
Archer’s face had turned a deep shade of red the entire process, which would have made him look more endearing, except that Brielle was worried he was ill from the exhaustion.
“Do you read these funny books?The Mystics?” said Pauline, her eyes focused on the road.
“The Mystified.” Archer sounded like he was about to laugh. “Come on, Pauline, you know this.”
Pauline looked both ways before she executed a turn. “Excuse me if I can’t follow all the things you kids do these days.”
“You’re like twenty years older than me,” said Archer. “If that. Stop acting like an old woman.”
Pauline waved a hand in the air, dismissing him.
But he continued. “They had comics in ‘your day,’ Pauline. Comicsbeforeyour day.”
Pauline nodded and slowed the van down, glancing over her shoulder to switch lanes. “If they don’t have an actual Chris Hemsworth to look at, they aren’t worth my time.” She flicked her eyes to the rearview mirror. “Well, I mean, yourartis always well done…”
“Sure, sure,” said Archer. “Blame the writers.”
The car fell into a slightly uncomfortable lapse of silence and Brielle felt compelled to fill it. “I prefer Loki to Thor.”
“Ah,” Archer said. “One ofthosewomen.”
Brielle felt like he’d punched her in the gut.So after all this, he’s one ofthoseguys, huh?Going to complain how all women love the bad boy and he doesn’t have a chance because he’s “so nice”?
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Pauline, more like a chaperone than ever.
Archer slapped his knees. “Nothing,” he said. “Just… I guess she likes tall, dark, and handsome.”
“Or more like pasty and evil?” said Brielle, unable to help herself. She felt relieved that was all he’d meant. “Not that I love the evil types in real life, let me assure you. But villains are where it’s at in fiction.”
Archer snorted.
“What?” Brielle turned around, ignoring the seatbelt now digging into her shoulder. He was grinning, but he tried to hide his grin in his hands.
He stared at her, the mischievousness in his light brown eyes sending shivers down her spine. “Will you settle for slightly naughty?”
Brielle whipped her head around so fast, she practically got whiplash. She could feel her face coloring.
“Okay, you two. Grandma Pauline is still here, you know. She can only take so much pheromones floating in her direction.”
Brielle buried her face in her hands. She’d known the guy for less than a week. This was ridiculous!
“Pauline,” said Archer. “Be cool.”
Brielle really, really felt like she was riding with her boyfriend and his mom on the way to junior prom.
Still, she didn’t think she was imagining things. Even if Daniel—god, why did she too often think about Daniel?—had made it crystal clear much earlier he wanted her in his twin XL dorm bed. Other than with him, she didn’t have much experience, so she wasn’t sure how one normally did this thing. Other than she knew this situation wasn’t exactly normal in its own right—not that Archer could help it.
Besides, he was so handsome and could sometimes—reluctantly—be charming, so he’d probably had a dozen opportunities to date even if he relied on a personal nurse driver. He just must have not wanted to.
He probably had fangirls waiting for him at this comic store right now, ready to jump him.
That was an image Brielle couldn’t shake—only she was imagining herself holding up a poster board saying how much she loved him, herself waiting in line to shake his hand, herself crawling onto his lap.
A flush of heat from her midsection roared up and down her body. She needed to change the subject like yesterday. “I’m not a huge comic reader or anything. I mean, obviously, I’ve readsome. But I haven’t heard of your comic, sorry.”
