AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“If you say so.” She leans back in her chair, stretching her legs out beneath the table. “All I’m saying is, if Archer Copeland came to my rescue like that, I’d probably have died right there on the spot.”
“Guess it’s a good thing I’m not you.” I mean for it to sound playful, but it comes out anything but. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, Professor Osbourn chooses that moment to address the class, calling our attention to the front of the room.
I spend the rest of the lesson trying to focus and yet finding myself unable to keep my mind from drifting to last night. Every time I close my eyes, I see Archer, his gray eyes locked on mine. I knew it the instant he was there, like I could feel the heat of his stare calling to me. And sure enough, when I glanced up, there he was.
I didn’t have time to dissect his expression.
I didn’t even have time to process that he was actually standing in front of me before he had Tigs by the arm, hauling him away from me.
I keep telling myself it was nothing. That he did what any of the other guys would do, but then I know that’s not entirely true. Because Tigs had been acting crazy all afternoon and into the evening and not one of the other guys even said anything to him, let alone acted.
But Archer... He did. And he did so in a way that felt incredibly possessive. I don’t know how else to explain it. The way he looked at me. The way he looked at Tigs, it was like he had touched something that was his without his permission. Which really makes no sense at all, but I’ve played that moment over in my head a few dozen times since last night, and I can’t shake the way he looked at me seconds before dragging Tigs away. Or the way that look made me feel.
“Earth to Rory,” I hear Lexi seconds before I feel her elbow nudge my arm. I blink once and then twice, looking up to see the class has started to empty.
“Shit,” I grumble, quickly gathering my things. It’s rare that I zone out to the point where I can’t even remember what we even talked about in class. But clearly, that’s exactly what I did.
“You okay? You seem really out of it today.” Lexi waits for me to stand before standing herself.
“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“No judgment here. I don’t even know half of what we discussed if that makes you feel better. I’m pretty sure I dozed off with my eyes open.” She chuckles. “Is that even possible?”
“Can’t say I’ve ever done it.” I sling my bag over my shoulder, following her out of the classroom and down the hall, where we part ways with a quick goodbye and wave before heading in opposite directions.
She has another class in the same hall, whereas I have an hour and twenty minutes before my next class in a completely different building. Not that I’m complaining, considering I could use some fresh air and maybe a shot of caffeine in the form of coffee. My next class is Art History, which is a required course that I have quite literally put off until the very last minute given that most Art majors take it their freshman year, and is one of the most boring classes on my schedule this semester.
I’ve only just made it out of the building when I feel my phone vibrate in the side pocket of my bag. Twisting my arm at a very unnatural angle, I manage to pull it out without having to take my bag off my shoulder.
I don’t recognize the number tied to the message alert on the lock screen, so I quickly slide my finger across it to open it.
Unknown:Need to get with you on scheduling for next week. Let me know when you’re free to talk.
I hesitate before typing out a reply.
Me:Who is this?
So, okay, I’m pretty sure I knowwhoit is, which is why my heart is currently beating a hole straight through my ribs. What I’m really most confused by is how he got my number.
Unknown (aka, Archer):Because you have so many other people you’re working with next week?
I can’t help but smile at his response in spite of myself.
Smart-ass.
Me:Maybe I do.
Unknown (because I really don’t want to add his number to my contacts or admit it’s really even him):Well, it looks like we can just discuss it in person.
I have to resist the urge to sayhuhout loud as I glance up and quickly survey my surroundings.
I find him in seconds, standing just off the walkway, leaning against a large shade tree that I walk by every single Friday on my way to the coffee shop that sits on the far side of campus, in between my two morning classes. It’s almost as if he knew exactly where to wait for me, though I quickly shake the thought away, trying to focus on keeping my feet moving as he jogs up beside me.
One. Two. Three. I count silently in my head the way I sometimes do when I’m feeling particularly anxious about something. And needless to say, Archer Copeland makes me extremely anxious, and not in a good way. In fact, I’m quite irritated by his presence actually...
“Can I help you?” I keep my eyes forward, knowing that it’s simpler than looking at him.
“You can, in fact.” He keeps his pace slow to match mine, his legs about twice as long as my own. I mean, heisan entire foot taller than me after all, which is much more pronounced with him standing directly next to me, his shadow stretched far beyond my own. “My schedule is incredibly busy—” he starts, unable to finish his sentence when I stop abruptly.
