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Archer
Nervousness is not a feeling I am familiar with, but as I walk through the doors of Empire Eats, my palms grow damp. Sweat dots the back of my neck, and suddenly, my mouth is as dry as the desert. Willow must sense it because she turns, looking back at me, then shakes her ass with a sassy grin that she knows will make me smile.
“If you don’t behave yourself in front of your family, I’ll have to spank you again.”
My words hit their mark, and she blushes for me. It’s both adorable and sexy. The true definition of Willow Waterson. Soon to be, Willow Alexander. Fuck.
I take a few quick strides to catch up to her side and take her by the hand. She gives me a reassuring squeeze, and it truly helps me calm down.
We’re greeted by her sister-in-law, Lyla, with a big smile on her face.
“Hello, beautiful,” she says, embracing Willow, so I drop her hand after one last quick squeeze.
“Lyla,” Willow says, stepping out of the hug and back to my side. “You remember Archer?”
She nods and steps closer to give me a hug. It’s nice, and I don’t even hate the mother-like pat she gives my back.
“It's nice to see you again,” I tell her, meaning it. By the look she keeps shooting me, she approves of my intentions with Willow. I only wonder how much of our story she really knows.
“Follow me; we’re all upstairs. You guys are late,” Lyla says, with a light, knowing laugh.
“Sorry, not sorry.” Willow shrugs, clearly giving zero fucks whether her sister-in-law is insinuating what I think she is.
We follow Lyla through the record store, and I can’t help but wish we had more time to look around. Willow told me all about Nora and Declan’s love story, and this record store, and I’ve wanted to meet them ever since. In the back, past a small eatery, and a hallway that must lead to the kitchen, we climb a staircase decorated in rock and pop posters from legends like Queen and Run DMC. The top floor opens up to a large open area, with a yellow pathway that leads to a large bar. Outdoor couches and coffee tables are set up on the left, and to the right are several long dinner tables set with white table clothes and navy-blue plates. Rows of string lights shine above us, making Willow’s hair glow even brighter. She looks like a damn fairy. Something out of this world. And that smile.
The sun’s gone down, and a light breeze blows across the rooftop lounge. The sound of conversation from a group of people at the smaller corner bar fills the air. I’m surprised to know someone here. Standing off to the left is none other than Marcus Sharp. He’s eyeing the women with a tense expression, almost like he’s holding himself back from something. Our approach catches his eye, and everyone simultaneously turns to us; the dozen or so faces light up at the sight of my girl.
A chorus of hello’s and miss you’s are shouted.
“How the hell are you?” Asks an older gentleman with an awesome beard, I assume is Declan Sharp. Several other people crowd around. A rowdy group of guys that look really familiar starts laughing about something I didn’t hear. Willow starts all the intros, and I feel immediately welcomed into their fold of friends. Everyone picks up on their conversations again, and Marcus and his date hang back and find a table with us. A little girl with Marcus’s eyes, smooth dark skin, and her mother’s obvious curls, bounces into his arms. I remember him always talking about his daughter at the same stuffy events, drinking all the top-shelf booze, and chasing the top awarded asses at curtain clubs. I didn’t know he had a wife. My gut twists at the thought of a man I considered a good guy, not being as good of a guy as I thought.
“What’s up, my man?” He shakes my hand, unsure of what to expect.
“Hey, man. Nice to see you,” I reply.
“Archer, this is my daughter, Harmony and her mother Grace, and no, Grace and I are not together.” He shakes his head, casually explaining himself without being asked. I wonder what my expression must look like when his daughter Harmony jumps into Willow's arms, grabbing my full attention—like I just saw something I needed to see, in that moment with her holding that little girl in a big hug. Harmony’s smile is almost as big as Willow’s, and the love between the two is apparent. It makes me want to see Willow with other kids. My kids. With one look at her with a kid, I want her to have my babies. I am totally gone for this girl, and she has no idea.
“I missed you too, babycakes,” Willow says in a playful voice, and, after a moment, the girl hops down.
“What’s for dinner tonight?” She looks down and asks her.
“Aunt Lyla went all out and made fruit balsamic salad with walnuts and fresh rolls that I helped make,” she giggles, with her hand over her mouth in pure mischief. “A goada chesse,” her little finger taps her chin, “No, that’s not right, goat cheese. It's fancy, and has jelly, and looks really yummy. And we have different crackers for it, too. There’s lots more, but I just don’t remember.”
Then she shrugs her little shoulder and asks us if we like Pokemon. It’s a resounding yes, and when Willow introduces Harmony and me, we talk about our love for Pikachu as we sit down at different tables. A couple of college kids come around and take our drink order, and we all fall into comfortable conversation. It feels so different from when I’m with my friends and family. Everyone wants something at the dinners I attend, but not here. These people are so genuine, and it's clear they care for each other.
Harmony was not wrong; our meal was amazing. A cornbread waffle served under a spicy bread-fried chicken, covered in sweet syrup and bacon pieces. The tables of friends all cheer for our hostess, who modestly waves us off, but I see the blush she gives her husband and watch as Cole proudly kisses her forehead. Shortly after we finish up our skittles ice cream dessert, apparently served in honor of Charlie who enjoyed two bowls, Lyla and Cole stand, and he taps a knife to his glass, gathering everyone’s attention.
We all quieten down, and he clears his throat nervously, looking to his wife who shrugs, turns to the crowd and casually announces, “we’re pregnant,” as the rooftop of people explodes in cheers. Willow jumps to her feet and rushes to her brother and sister-in-law, embracing them as several others join her. I can’t help but envy this group and wish I had a place with them. What it must feel like to know without a doubt you had other people in your corner, real friends who would be there to celebrate all the good times and buy you a beer when things get shitty. Friends in my world are more like sharks waiting to attack when they smell blood in the water.
I watch Willow whisper in Lyla’s ear and squeeze her hand. Whatever it is, makes tears well in Lyla’s eyes. She makes her way back to my side, and I kiss her cheek, noticing her eyes are a little cloudy, too.
“Are you happy?” I ask her.
“Immensely,” she answers and kisses me hard, pulling my face flush to hers, and I inhale her, her happiness seeping into me. Part of me is grateful her brother is distracted, so I don’t get my ass kicked because this is not a kiss you have in front of your woman’s brother.
When I tighten my fist full of her hair, our lips part as she moans quietly. I grin, knowing exactly how she feels because her hand has a death grip on my thigh, and as her nails bite into my pants, my cock hardens, wanting more.
“Lets’ get out of here,” she whispers against my lips, and I take no time standing and pulling her with me, looking for the nearest exit. There’s only one, and once I spot it, I start moving us over to it, with only one thing on my mind now.
