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So yeah, maybe Archer has worn me down. Maybe I don’t hate him as much as I thought. Still doesn’t mean I’m going to let him sweet-talk me into bed after one dinner. He may be used to women being that easy, but I’m not that kind of girl.
“Relax, Rory.” He reaches his hand through the opening to prevent the doors from sliding shut. “Trust me?”
“I can’t say that I do,” I admit.
“You have my word.” He smirks. “You have nothing to worry about.”
I hesitate for a brief moment before taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to lead me off the elevator. Call me crazy, but I’d rather know what he wants to give me and be done with it than obsess over it all night like I know I would.
“Are you always so distrusting of people?” he asks, squeezing my fingers as he leads me down the hallway.
I want to pull my hand away, but I can’t. It’s like my fingers have suddenly fused to his and it feels impossible to pull them apart.
When he stops outside of his hotel room, I swear it feels like my heart is beating a hundred miles a minute. My breath feels tight in my lungs like they can’t figure out how to pull in a real breath, and my stomach feels full of hundreds of rocks and thousands of butterflies all at the same time.
“Wait here,” he surprises me by saying, swiping his key card before quickly stepping inside the room.
I’m not sure if I’m more disappointed or relieved by the fact that he didn’t invite me inside.
I finally settle on relieved. Yeah, definitely relieved. But I won’t deny there is a slight hint of disappointment that lingers just beneath the surface.
Not sure what to do, I turn and lean against the wall, trying to steady the beat of my heart before that bitch wears a hole straight through my ribs. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. I focus on my breath, but it’s not enough to fully soothe my nerves because when the door opens again, they return almost stronger than before.
“Sorry.” He tugs the door shut, the sound of voices following him into the hall. “Higgins and Ryder have hijacked my room,” he explains.
“Then why bring me up here at all?” I can’t help but ask.
“I wanted to give you this.” He extends something to me that I didn’t realize he was holding until this very moment.
“What is it?” I ask, accepting the article of clothing.
“It’s my jersey.”
“Your jersey?” I hold the material up, surprised that it is in fact his jersey. “Don’t you, um, kinda need this for tomorrow?”
“It’s notmygame jersey. Just a replica. I actually got it for you. It’s brand-new, see.” He shows me where the tag still hangs from the sleeve.
“You bought me your jersey?” I’m surprised, I won’t lie. I’m almost a little overwhelmed. Okay, that’s not entirely true. I am a lot overwhelmed.
Remember when I told Alina that I fall hard and fast... Well, yeah, I can already feel myself falling. For his charm. For his smile. For the way he makes me feel when he looks at me the way he’s looking at me right now.
I know without a moment of hesitation that I am in some serious trouble right now. I have two choices: jump in head first and hope for the best, or slide on my life jacket and swim as fast as I can to shore.
ThisisArcher Copeland after all.
And while I’ve always been comfortable with who I am, I don’t think it’s wrong for me to say that men like Archer Copeland don’t go for women like me. At least, not anywhere other than movies or romance novels and the last time I checked, this is real life.
“I thought maybe you could wear it to the game.” He seems almost sheepish about it. “Do you not like it?”
“No, I love it.” I clench the material to my chest. “I just... am surprised, is all.”
“Good surprised?” He reaches out to touch my arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps in his wake.
“Good surprised,” I admit.
“Good.” His hand finds mine once more, and when his fingers tangle with it this time, I feel downright giddy with excitement and yet sick with uncertainty. The combination of emotions weighs heavily on my shoulders like an invisible weight I cannot see but I can most certainly feel.
“I should... I should probably head back to my room. Alina will be wondering where I am,” I say, knowing that’s likely not true but needing an out just the same.
