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“I’ll walk you down,” he offers, using our entwined hands to tug me closer, the smell of him hitting me like a baseball bat to the face.
“You don’t have to do that,” I talk to his chest, afraid to look up at him.
“I know. But what if I want to?” He uses his free hand to tip my chin, guiding my face up to meet his. “You don’t have to be scared of me,” he almost whispers, his hand moving to swipe a strand of hair from the side of my face. I’m pretty sure I forget how to breathe altogether.
“I’m not scared of you.” I try to sound as sure of that statement as I possibly can.
“Then why are you shaking?” He grins, drawing my attention to the way my hand trembles still wrapped in his.
“I should... I should go,” I stutter, taking a full step back, effectively breaking all contact with him.
This is too fast. Too sudden. I can’t wrap my head around it. It’s like he woke up today and just decided to be a different person—at least toward me. And I’m honestly not sure how to feel about any of it.
Did his buddies make a bet with him or something? Am I some kind of game?
Or does this man, who could quite literally have any girl on campus, actually have some interest in me? If that is the case, I have only one real question... Why?
“Come on.” He tips his chin, not trying to touch me again as side by side we make our way back toward the elevator.
The trip down, while short, feels like it lasts an eternity. Tension builds in the air so thick I can physically feel it. He doesn’t speak. I don’t speak. And by the time those doors slide open a second time, I practically run through I’m so eager to escape the building pressure.
Archer follows me to my room, hands casually in his pockets like he doesn’t have a care in the world, while I’m over here vibrating out of my own freaking skin and for what? Because he bought me one of his jerseys? Because he touched me in a way that made me rethink everything? Because it’s taking everything in me not to turn around and throw myself at him just to experience his touch if only one time?
“Well, this is me.” I slow to a stop in front of my hotel room door, Archer pulling up next to me. “Thank you for dinner.” I turn to face him. “It was... interesting.” I can’t think of how else to describe it.
“Thank you for joining me.” He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “So I’ll see you at the game tomorrow?”
“Yep.” I pop my lips. “I’ll be the girl who looks completely out of place, wearing your number.” I lift my arm that has his jersey draped across it.
“I really did have a good time.” He leans in and even though I tell myself not to, I find myself leaning in closer too.
“Me too,” I admit, drunk on the nearness of him.
I don’t know how it happens, but one minute we’re a couple of inches apart and the next his hand is around the back of my neck and I’m flush with the wall, the hardness of his body pressing into me.
“I know I said I wouldn’t touch you, but fuck, Rory, it’s killing me not to kiss you. Let me kiss you,” he pleads, his mouth now so close to mine I can practically taste him on my tongue already.
I don’t give myself time to overthink it like I normally would. How could I with him pressed into me, causing my entire body to ache in the most delicious way.
“Then kiss me.” The whispered words are barely off my lips before his mouth is on mine.
He’s soft at first, gentle, testing my willingness. And I quickly grow impatient by his hesitance, having already jumped straight off the deep end into the abyss. But when I open my mouth to him and slide my tongue across his, his entire demeanor shifts. He becomes almost ravenous, kissing me so hard and deep I swear I can feel him everywhere. From the top of my head to the balls of my feet, there isn’t an inch of flesh that can’t feel the effects of him. Skilled in a way that makes it seem like he's kissed me a million times before. Like he’s studied exactly how to swipe his tongue or move his head. And when his fingers tangle into the sensitive hair at my nape and he gently tugs, I can’t hold the soft groan that slides up my throat.
“Fuck.” He pulls back just enough to drop his forehead to mine. “Keep making noises like that and I won’t be able to stop myself from shoving you into the nearest room and having my way with you.” He presses another kiss to my mouth.
I’m so lost in the moment, to the sensation of him and the feel of him that I don’t realize the elevator doors that sit just three doors down have slid open until I hear the voices that quickly follow.
We break apart in an instant to find Alina and some girl I don’t immediately recognize, looking at us with wide eyes and even wider smiles.
“You dirty little minx,” Alina accuses, balancing a pizza box in one arm while two white plastic bags hang from her opposite hand.
“Hi, Arch.” Her friend smiles, giving him a little finger wave like they didn’t just catch us swallowing each other’s faces in the middle of the hallway.
“Kim.” He nods, turning toward me, seeming completely unfazed. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he tells me, dipping down to kiss my cheek, which is seven kinds of red, I have no doubt.
“Okay.” It’s all I can think to say before he steps away.
“Alina.” He nods to my best friend as he passes between the two women.
