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“That the Eastsiders are moving in?”
He’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt, sleeves pushed up. It hugs his torso perfectly. Only several days ago, which seems like an eternity, it was rubbing against my breasts as he panted away on top of me.
I’ve missed him.
He doesn’t seem too happy. Never says much anyway. Every word is on point like he doesn’t have time. Which is a pity. I’d like to spend more time with him. To hear him laugh as he did back at his villa the night we spent together. To see him as happy as he looks in the pictures from Mexico with Droga.
I wonder what hurts him, what soothes him. I wonder a lot about him, and that’s a bad sign. Because I’ve never wondered so much about any other man in my life. Archer is a unicorn, a bit grim and with dark habits but subtle charm when he lets go, and that ropes me in slowly but deeply.
Days went by, but nothing changed. Like the way my pulse spikes when I’m in Archer’s presence. The way my body tingles under his gaze. The way I try to play cool but my body feels like it’s on fire.
I only now notice a Rubik’s cube in his hands.
I stretch my hand—he passes it to me.
We often have a hard time clicking when we talk, but without words, we understand each other perfectly.
“Marlow didn’t tell me anything,” I say, trying to hide my disappointment as I’m messing with the cube. No one really cares about me on Zion, I get it. Not even Archer. But it would be nice to be in the loop.
“It’s a bit intense right now,” Archer says with unusual softness in his voice. He is not himself today.
“No shit.” I finish messing with the cube and pass it back to him. “So they are moving in, huh?”
“So they are.”
He starts playing with the cube, not taking his eyes off me. They flicker down to his gold chain still around my neck. Margot noticed it the other day, and I swear, she looked like she had a heart attack.
“Are you not gonna be there?” I lean onto Archer’s desk with my hands, studying him.
I want to be closer. But it seems to be a pattern—we are either too close, having brainless sex, or too far apart.
Archer looks way better than weeks ago. Healthier. He hasn’t called me in days. Hasn’t texted. Hasn’t shown up at the Center. Seeing him is like a breath of fresh air. My body feels alive in his presence, and I feel even more helpless at wanting him so badly.
Archer slowly leans back in his armchair with that smirk on his face that I haven’t seen in a while. “You know the history of us with the Eastside. You really think it’s a good idea? For me to greet them when they arrive?”
“Well, considering now they are under your command. Or whatever you call it.”
“We made a deal. If they decide to leave Zion—which I’m sure most of them will, considering they can’t handle my authority—they will be transported to the mainland.”
“Just like that?”
His fingers move fast around the cube but he doesn’t let his eyes off me. Or so it seems.
“Just like that, Kat. I’m done with them and all the bullshit. One less headache.”
“Droga and Callie won’t leave.”
“No.” He shakes his head, dropping his gaze down to his hands. “I talked to them. Neither will Ty and Dani. Ya-Ya won’t. Maddy and Bo won’t. The rest will have to figure out whether they want to tuck their pride into their undies and make a life here following my rules or… Yeah. Leave.”
“I suppose you are right.”
“You suppose?” He snorts and raises his eyes at me.
God, there is that Archer again.
“I suppose you own this island. So, yeah…”
“Yeah…” He studies me for a moment, then sets the Rubik’s cube on the table—solved.
