Page 54 of You Said I Was Your Favorite

“Shit, Daze, are you okay?” He sounds worried.

Scared.

My gaze searches his and I don’t know when things switched. When he became my savior instead of my enemy, but I’m grateful he’s here. Right now.

I need him.

“Take me inside,” I whisper. “Please. I need to lie down.”

He gathers me in his arms, carrying me as if I don’t weigh a thing and I cling to him, my arms slung around his neck, my head resting against his chest. I can feel the pounding of his heart beneath my ear and I close my eyes, a shiver stealing over me when his fingers press into my bare skin.

If he never stops touching me, I’ll die happy.

Arch makes his way inside our tiny house and I can’t even work up the energy to be embarrassed over how old everything looks inside. How threadbare. Dad doesn’t like spending money on what he calls useless things. Knickknacks and new furniture or the latest in electronics doesn’t matter to him. It never really has. He’s saving just about every dime he makes on a retirement plan for him and a college plan for me.

I love him for that and don’t really need the finer things in life, but right now, I’m a little mortified by how old our TV is. And our couch, which sags in the middle.

But I can’t worry about any of that now. Not when I’ve got Arch in the middle of my living room, gently settling me down on the couch like I’m made of glass and I might shatter at any moment.

“You want something to drink? Water?” he asks, rising to his full height and glancing around the tiny living room.

Everything seems small when Arch is in the room. He fills the space with his overwhelming presence and all I can do is stare at him in disbelief.

He’s in my house. He’s trying to take care of me.

What is this life?

“Daisy.” His voice is firm and my gaze snaps to his, taking in the serious line of his mouth. How he’s watching me with lowered brows and an almost frantic light flickering in his brilliant blue eyes. “I’m getting you something to drink.”

“My water bottle is in my bedroom,” I admit.

His gaze goes to the hallway. “Down there?”

“First door on the left.”

He’s gone in an instant and I sling my arm over my eyes, closing them. Sort of wanting to die. This is so embarrassing. I almost fainted—something I haven’t done in a long time—right in front of him and now I’m acting like a damsel in distress. This is awful.

I’m sure the moment he can get out of here, he’ll go running and never look back.

Arch returns in seconds, my pale peach colored Stanley clutched in his hand and I sit up, pausing when my head starts to spin. I blink slowly once, twice, and thankfully, the spinning stops.

“Here.” He thrusts the tumbler in my face, the straw right at my lips. “Drink.”

I do as he says, taking long sips, the icy cold water cooling my heated skin. I eventually take the tumbler from him, our fingers brushing, sending a scattering of tingles up both of my arms.

All over me.

It’s like I can’t help but react to him every single time he so much as looks at me, let alone touches me.

“I feel better,” I admit once I guzzle a bunch of water. “I don’t know what happened just now.”

“You almost fainted,” he says, filling me in on exactly what happened. “Even your eyes rolled into the back of your head.”

“Oh God.” Fresh humiliation seeps in and I cover my face with my hands, wishing he wasn’t here.

Also, incredibly grateful that he is here.

“Have you ever fainted before?” he asks.

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