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Lilac wants to come home, read Gavin’s message.I’ve been trying to get her to stop and think things through, to consider the things she likes about being there, but I was right. She was nearly assaulted. And I can’t get her to report her boss.
“Ready?” Archer rolled up in front of her, a gigantic bag on his lap. “You okay?” he asked after a minute of Brielle just staring at the screen.
“Yeah.” She swallowed and tried to smile. “I’ll walk you back to the parking lot, then meet you there.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“What are you doing?” Archer asked. Brielle moved a rag up and down his wall above the cabinet where he stored his books. There was no avoiding noticing the way her jeans flattered her from behind, especially when she stood on her toes.
“It says to clean the wall first.” She rolled back onto her heels and stared down at the cloth, folding it before standing back up again. “And to dry it.”
“You are the only person who actually follows instructions like that when it comes to Command strips.”
“Iama cleaning expert.” Tossing her hair back over her shoulder, she placed the cloth on the edge of his kitchen table. It was covered in dirt, even though his walls hadn’t even looked that grimy. She caught him looking at the cloth. “Okay, so I didn’t exactly scrub your walls when I was your house cleaner.”
He laughed. “Nor would I have expected you to.”
She peeled both sides of the strip and fixed it to the hook, squishing it hard in her palms with a comical look on her face like it took quite a bit of effort.
“I can do that much,” he said, grabbing the package to get the second hook ready.
She watched him. “You’ve got to press really hard,” she said. “Reallyhard. To make sure it sticks to the wall when the art is hanging on it.”
He flexed one of his arms. “I can handle it.”
Biting her bottom lip, Brielle danced her fingertips across his bicep. “How do you get arms this ripped?”
“Not easily, considering my muscles aren’t exactly the strongest throughout my body.” He dropped the hook on the table and wrapped an arm around her waist, causing her to cry out—happily, he thought, or hoped, at least—as he spun her to sit on his lap. “But I have to get physical therapy in every day anyway.” He lifted his chin to nudge his nose into her shoulder. Her hair smelled of flowers.
Brielle shifted on his lap and turned her head slightly to look at him. “Is Pauline your trainer then?”
“Pauline and a basketball,” he said, inhaling her, wrapping his arms around her torso completely.
“What do you do when it’s too cold to play?”
“We play indoors. At the YMCA.” He pulled back. “Although I don’t get there as often as I’d like, especially when the weather is bad.”
Brielle went quiet. “I never even thought about that. Using a wheelchair in the snow.”
He laughed. “I take ‘snowed in’ more literally than some might. But I don’t know a lot of people who relish going out there before the snow plows have even gone through if they don’t have to.”
She fidgeted, turning around somewhat, and Archer loosened his grip. “Yeah, but even after it stops snowing and the main roads are clean… I mean,I’veslipped on store sidewalks not very well salted.”
“Believe me, you’re not telling me anything new.” He watched as her face fell and he scrambled to make the situation lighter. “Are you saying I should move to Florida?”
That was a mistake. She looked downright grim now.
“What is it?” he asked. “I wasn’t serious…”
She shook her head. “No, it wasn’t you. I just… have a lot on my mind.”
“Like what?”
She didn’t say anything. Instead, she slipped off his lap and went back to standing on her toes, affixing the hook he hadn’t realized she’d still had in her hand the entire time she’d sat on his lap.
“You can talk to me, Elle.”
She visibly winced and Archer remembered how she’d asked him not to call her that because her ex had. “Brielle,” he said, tripping over the name in his rush to correct his mistake.
