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I scramble to my feet and nearly drop my phone and I hug the blanket around me because it’s freezing.Hemust be freezing. I glance at my front door. My parents are still arguing, but the heaviness of the rain dims it.
Archer follows my gaze. ‘This is why you didn’t want me turning up at your house uninvited,’ he says, eyes bright.
‘It’s gone two in the morning. No food place is even open now,’ is all I manage.
He doesn’t pry about my evasiveness. He simply takes the last two steps up onto the porch and looks down at me. I’ve never seen him so vulnerable, so open.
‘That’s not what I asked,’ he says.
I glance again at my front door. My dad will go up to bed soon and cry himself to sleep, and my mum will watch TV on the sofa for a few hours. They won’t even notice I’m gone, and I don’t exactly wish to be here.
I nod. ‘Wait. You’re not drunk, are you?’
He shakes his head. His eyes are clearer than they’ve ever been.
He drives us to a 24-hour McDonald’s. He orders a chicken legend meal and I order a vegetable deluxe. He insists on paying. He drives to a park not too far away; it overlooks London and makes the city seem small and insignificant.
We eat in the car in silence. When we’re finished, he stares through the windshield, but the rain has covered it now so you can’t see the city at all.
‘I’m sorry for ignoring you,’ he says at last. ‘I’ve been dealing with… something.’ He bites out the last word.
Archer always knows what to say, but right now he seems like he’s struggling for words. I wait for him to continue, however long it takes, because I feel like he’s finally about to open up to me.
‘My mum’s in the city,’ he goes on. His leg bounces up and down. Impulsively I reach out and place my hand on his knee, and he looses a heavy breath, as if he’s relieved to have me here shouldering whatever burden plagues him. ‘I don’t even know how to fucking say this.’
‘I literally have all night. Take as long as you need.’
He closes his eyes and rests his head against the back of his seat. ‘I haven’t been ignoring you because you’ve done anything wrong, Frankie. When I was thirteen, my mum, she...’ He runs his hands down his face and lets out a long sigh. ‘She abused me, and having her here triggers the fuck out of me.’ He puts a hand over his eyes, but I can see his mouth trembling. He laughs mirthlessly. ‘I can’t believe I just told you that. I feel fucking stupid—‘
‘No!’ I’m appalled he’d even think that. ‘Don’t you dare say that. You’re not stupid, Arch. Whatever you're feeling now is okay.’
‘Women aren’t supposed to overpower men.’
‘Archer,’ I say calmly, ‘you were thirteen. Someone you trusted betrayed you, and what she did has nothing to do with you. It’s not your fault. Men are abused, but they’re more hesitant to speak about it for this very reason. But I’m here, and I believe you.’
He looks at me. His eyes are bloodshot, but his gaze is focused. ‘I don’t deserve you, love.’
‘What happened doesn’t define you—‘
‘I want to hurt you.’ He says it so candidly, as if it’s just a fact. ‘I have to be in control, in every aspect of my life, including my sex life.’
I fumble behind for the door handle—
‘I’m not going to force you,’ he says, clearly disgusted I’d even think that. ‘It’s just rough sex, but it’s always consensual, and if they want to stop, I always do. But I hurt them. I pull their hair and tie them up and grab their throat and they love it. And I want to do all of that to you. Even the thought…’ He groans and grabs his pulsing erection.
Okayyyyyy. I glance away, because it’s a little disturbing. I don’t want to feed this desire of his; it essentially stems back to his mum and what she did to him. That’s not helping him at all.
‘Look at me,’ he whispers.
I bite my lip.
‘Look at me, Frankie.’
I do.
His pupils are blown wide. ‘Can I fuck you?’
My throat goes dry. ‘I’m not on any—‘
