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I choke on my laugh and bury my head into the crook of his neck.
‘Frankie.’
I pull up to look down at him. His cheeks are flushed and his lips are cracked from kissing and his gaze searches my face. He reaches out slowly and smooths his thumb over my lower lip. ‘Look at what you’re doing to me,’ he says. His gaze follows the movement of his fingers as they trail down my throat and kiss my hammering pulse. ‘I’m coming apart beneath your touch, and I would happily turn myself to dust for this moment with you.’
I stare at him, searching the deep crevices of my mind for anything poetic to say in return, but I come up short. Instead, I lean down and press my lips to his, a brief, teasing gesture, before I kiss the side of his mouth, his cheek, moving down slowly to his neck, his throat—
My phone rings, making us both jump. My eyes flit towards where it sits on my bedside table.
‘Who is it?’ Chase asks. When I don’t answer, he pushes me back until I sit up, and the concern on his face nearly makes me sob. ‘Talk to me.’
‘Um…’ I swallow. ‘It’s Archer.’
His hands tighten on my thighs, the only sign of his anger. He watches me as I watch the phone go silent—and then it trills again, his name flashing on the screen once more.
‘You can answer it if you want,’ Chase tells me. ‘I won’t be offended.’
Why is Archer calling me now, after three weeks of ghosting me? And why so late? I don’t think he’s ever rang me before, and even when he’s texted, they’re brief and curt.
He’s probably pissed somewhere and is deep in his feelings.
Or deep in something else and wants to gloat.
A voicemail pops up, and I shoot Chase an apologetic look as I snatch it from the table and hold it to my ear.
Archer talks fast, and his voice is thick and gasping—
‘I’m sorry,’ Archer says. ‘I know you probably hate me and never want to speak to me again, but… I need you. God, I need you. You were the only good thing in my life and I fucked it up. I fuck everything up.’ He sniffles. ‘It’s Demi, she’s… she’s dead.’ His voice cracks, and my heart breaks with it. ‘She’s fuckingdead, and I have no one, and I need you, Frankie. I need you, so please can you just…’
I stare at my phone, and it takes me a split-second to move. My body feels rigid, robotic, but my heart is steady, my movements precise as I climb off the bed, off Chase, and shuck off my pyjamas. There’s no room in my mind for embarrassment, for self-consciousness, as I feel Chase’s eyes bore into my naked back and brush my panties.
Rain soaks Archer’s hair, dripping water over his face, making his bare arms sheen beneath the streetlight. Is that fear in his eyes, or is it merely the rain making them bright?
‘Talk to me, love,’ he whispers.
I shimmy into my jeans, throw a shirt over my head without even glancing at what it is, if it’s the right way. I toe on my shoes.
‘Frankie.’ Chase props himself up onto his elbows. ‘What is it?’
He breathes through his mouth, his chest rising and falling heavily. I don’t protest as he scoops me up into his arms and carries me to his car.
‘I need you to take me to Archer’s,’ I hear myself say. ‘Don’t ask questions, please,’ I add as he opens his mouth. ‘I just… I need to go. I’m sorry.’
He nods, but he says nothing as he stands. He just brushes a gentle hand against my shoulder as he passes. ‘I’ll wait in the car.’
I’m not sure how long I sit there, hanging my head, the steam making my eyes heavy, but after some time the shower curtain twitches aside, and Archer kneels before the tub.
I don’t look back at Chase as I climb from the car and stride through the gates, and he’s there, sitting on the steps leading up to his house, his head in his hands. He looks up as I approach, and in the moonlight his face is wet.
The stream switches off, and a towel is thrown around me, and then Archer is carrying me. He says nothing as he removes the damp towel and wraps me in his duvet.
Archer shoots to his feet, so fast he nearly loses his balance, and he stares at me as if he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing, that I’m here.
But of course I came,I want to tell him.Of course I did.
He staggers down the rest of the steps, and seeing me seems to undo something in him. His face contorts, and his hand comes up to clutch his chest, as he finally lets himself fall apart.
As he finally lets me catch him.
