Page 34 of Protecting His Finch

I go to my room, grab the folded towel and a pair of fresh borrowed clothes. There’s a shared bathroom between my room and Archer’s.

When I exit my room, I nearly jump out of my skin.

There’s a man standing in the hallway.

“You’re up,” I say.

“I’m up.”

Archer has a hand on the wall to brace himself. I can’t help but notice the bareness of his chest. The smattering of dark hair there. Small lines of old scars crisscrossed on his skin.

“How do you feel?”

“Stiff. But better.”

“I’ve made a decision,” I tell him, deciding to be bold in this moment. “We’re staying here.”

Archer nods. “Okay.”

I blink. I didn’t expect it to be that easy. “Okay…?”

“It’s rural. Out of the way. Catherine doesn’t know your friends, does she?”

I shake my head. “I never told her about them. I didn’t want to put them on her radar.”

“Good girl.”

The way he says those two words sends a shiver down my spine, and my nipples turn to pebbles.

Why? Why am I like this?

I hug my towel tighter to my chest.

“Thanks,” I reply.

“They won’t think to look here. We can lay low here while we figure out our next move.”

“My thought exactly.”

The edge of his mouth twitches. “Then it seems like we make a good team.”

My thoughts tumble apart. Like someone’s pulled the wrong stick and just Jenga’d my brain.

We make a good team.

I’ve never been part of a team before. Something to covet, yes. Something to control, yes. But equal partners? Never.

That is more exhilarating than good girl could ever be.

Just when I thought my nipples couldn’t get any harder.

If I’m going to be part of a team, I better act like it. So I straighten my posture the way Catherine Rossi taught me (power is something one exudes, not something one is given).

“Well. Hall meeting adjourned.”

“Finley?”

“Yes?”

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