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Marlow doesn’t play anything specific, just plucks away for some time, chatting with Axavier and another guy who comes over to our table. Girls usually stay away.
“They are just wary, jealous, or curious but too proud to ask about you and Archer. There are rumors, you know,” Axavier explains when I voice my thoughts, biting away at the California burger that I ordered because I’m hungry. But mostly, out of spite of Archer’s dinner invitation.
The restaurant hums with chatter.
“Nick, play ‘We Will Rock You’!” a blonde girl from the other side of the cafe shouts.
Marlow grins and winks. And then starts singing.
Jesus Christ. His voice could seduce the devil even if the devil was a he and straight.
I order yet another cocktail and rest my chin on my palm, watching him, then turn to Axavier and nod toward Marlow. “Seriously, dude, how is he single?”
Axavier takes a long drag of a cigarette. “Habitat isolation.” He exhales loudly, and both he and Marlow burst out laughing.
“You guys, seriously.”
My eyes have been constantly on my phone for the last hour. And when it finally beeps, I snatch it like it’s the most important message of my life.
Archer: You are late.
Finally.
“Something exciting?” Marlow leans back in his chair with a suspicious stare.
“Yeah. Someone who thinks he can whistle and everyone comes running.”
He exchanges looks with Axavier. “Well, to be fair, you look like you enjoy our Chancellor’s whistles.”
I give Marlow a stare so vicious that he starts laughing.
“Chill,” he says. “Nothing’s wrong with that.”
I feel myself blush as I type a message for Archer.
Me: Something came up. Next time.
He responds right away.
Archer: Ditching your date is not nice, kitten.
My heart slams in my chest—I wasn’t aware that was supposed to be a date.
We are using big words now, and they are making me uncomfortable. When Archer is around, I can’t keep a straight face. I soak in every stare, every word, every movement. He’s using me for his own pleasure. That’s a no-brainer. That’s fine. But I’m starting to get jealous. Restless when he is not around. Angry when he ignores me. Vulnerable when he uses words likedate.
We made it clear we use sex as a release. Yet the way he wrapped me in his arms when I slept in his bed is not casual. Neither is the helicopter trip. Neither is this dinner invitation. It’s messing with my mind.
Everywhere I look, I search for him. Just a glimpse that gives me a needed fix. Like I’m a junkie for him.
Archer didn’t say a word when Margot shut the door in my face. But obviously, he thinks he can snap his fingers and my panties will fall down.
Instantly, I replay the scenario in my head.
His fingers. My panties.
I am such an idiot around this guy that it makes me angry.
Archer: I’m waiting.
