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A half-sob breaks out of me at Archer’s message, and I sit up, rubbing a hand over my face. With my legs over the side of the bed, I quickly hit the screen to call him.
I’ve never needed to hear his voice like I do right now. I need some connection to him. To my actual life. This entire week has felt like I’ve been dropped into an alternate dimension. Leaving me to get addicted to casual glances and sexy smirks.
Thoughts of last night flee the second I hear the deep baritone of Archer’s voice. Only it’s not the “hey, beautiful,” that I needed. Instead, I hear the recording of him, telling me to leave a message.
* * *
Sorry, he texts. Running late. Talk later?
* * *
My stomach tightens, and I wonder what I would have said if he’d answered my call. Would I have blurted out what happened last night? Tell him I can’t stay here because…
I take a deep breath, forcing my thoughts to calm.
* * *
Yeah, I send to him. Talk later.
* * *
I jump at a knock on my door, losing the phone somewhere in the comforter.
“Charlie,” Benji says from the hallway.
I relax a little at the sound of my name and check the mirror on my way to the door before cursing at myself. Really, Charlie.
Not knowing what to expect, I swing the door open.
Benji’s standing there in a dark blue button-up, sleeves rolled to the elbows with his eyes on the floor. It takes a second for him to look up. I swallow at the dark circles beneath his eyes like he hasn’t slept. The hardness of his jaw and gaze.
“Hey.” He’s focused not quite on my face, maybe on something over my shoulder. “I need to apologize for last night.”
I open my mouth to tell him to forget about it, but he holds up a hand, stopping me.
“Just, let me get this out.”
With a nod, I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling a need for something to shield me. From his gaze. His distance.
“Last night was a stupid, drunken mistake that never should have happened. My brother deserves better than what I did. You deserve better. I promise it won’t happen again, and…” He lets out a long breath before his eyes meet mine for the first time, no warmth anywhere in them. “I just hope you can forgive me.”
Before I can even process, Benji gives a tight smile and walks away. But even once he’s down the stairs and I’ve heard the front door slam, I stand there, barely breathing.
Five years later, and he just gave me the speech he should have given me back then. When he said and did things he didn’t mean. And fuck if it still doesn’t hurt.
I lay low the rest of the day, tracking down a painting that will look perfect in McCade’s collection. Benji doesn’t come back to my room or text, asking me to go to the show he has tonight. At first, I think it’s for the best. With things uncomfortable between us, it’s a perfect excuse to stay away from one another. I can get through the next few days until Archer returns, and then convince him we need our own space until we leave.
Only, by evening I’ve still not heard another word from Archer, and both brothers have earned a place on my shit list. Knowing the part of Detroit he’s working in doesn’t help, and by the time my phone rings at eight, I’ve chewed my nails down to the quick.
Except after my phone buzzes, the funeral march starts playing.
My parents.
Figuring I’ve avoided them as long as I dare, I answer with a bright and happy, “Hello?”
“Oh good,” my mom says. “Benedict, she answered.”
I hear a rustling which I assume is her putting me on speaker phone. It’s easier to gang up on me this way.
