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“There are way too many to decide.”
“Okay, what about a favorite type of food, like Italian or Asian?”
“Mexican hands down.” I shrug. “I maybe Mexican and that makes me biased, but I love a good tamale or burrito. Italian is close second, though.”
Archer smiles. “I’m like you. I love all foods, but for me you can’t beat a well-cooked rack of ribs. What did you think of the ribs at the diner?”
“Delicious,” I reply.
He looks at me then in a way that makes my heart rate speed up. I don’t like the sensation, as it makes me feel odd. “Back to the fact I’ve missed you. When I say that, I don’t just mean the sex.”
“Archer,” I say his name in warning.
He holds his hands up in surrender. “I know. I won’t start that argument again. I’m just saying I enjoy spending time with you, even out of the sack.”
I sense he will not let this go in the long term. “Fine.”
His eyes narrow, as I know he was hoping I’d reciprocate the feeling.
I take another slice of pizza, needing to distract myself from this odd sense of dread sweeping over me. I don’t have any control over what’s happening now. It’s the first time I’ve felt like this and I don’t like it.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah, I just feel a little woozy.”
“The champagne maybe?” he asks.
I nod, but I know it’s not that. It’s this sickening feeling that I actually have feelings for Archer. No matter how much I try to push them away, the more time I spend with him, the stronger they return.
“Why don’t we sit on the sofa?” he suggests.
The half-eaten piece of pizza sits on my plate and for the first time in a long time, I don’t think I can eat it. “Sure.”
I stand and walk over to the sofa, slumping down on it. The dread still lingering over me like a dark rain cloud threatening to break open and drown me.
“Are you sure you are okay?” Archer asks.
I shake my head. “I’ve got a bit of a headache, to be honest.”
His brow furrows. “You didn’t drink that much champagne.”
“Maybe I’m getting sick.”
He sits next to me and places a hand against my forehead. “You don’t feel warm.” He pats his lap. “Come here.”
I do as he says, even though a part of me wants to resist.
Archer’s powerful arms wrap around me and he just holds me, his lips nuzzled against my neck softly.
I hate that him being like this only makes that sensation worse. “You know, I really don’t feel great. I think I should go back to my room and sleep.”
“No way am I letting you go anywhere if you are sick.” He shifts me off his lap and stands. “I’ll look after you here. Come on.”
I swallow hard as he holds a hand out to me. And yet I take it despite everything.
He leads me into the bedroom and gently undresses me. Normally, things would take a sexual turn right about now, but I can tell every touch isn’t intended to arouse but soothe instead.
It makes my chest ache as he pulls back the sheets. “Get in.”
