Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Princess yips from the doorway, demanding to be let outside to use the bathroom.
I press my lips to his, nipping at his bottom lip before climbing out of the bed.
The dog’s insistence grows louder as I get dressed.
“Little cockblock,” Archer mutters, but he climbs out too, pulling on a pair of sweats as well.
We walk down the stairs hand in hand like we do every morning. We’re so damn sweet on each other that it should be nauseating.
“It takes ten hours just to get to the back door,” Archer complains.
“It’s a big house,” I agree.
“I should sell it.”
I chuckle as I open the back door for Princess, grinning as the little ball of fluff races down the back steps on to the grass.
“I’m serious.”
I look at him then.
“We don’t need this much room.”
“We?” I laugh again, shaking my head. “This is your house.”
“Haven’t you thought about it?”
“The size of your house? Not really.”
“Living together.”
I freeze at his side, my heart kicking up.
He comes to stand in front of me, his palms on my bare chest.
“Brooks?”
I keep my eyes pointed over his shoulder. I’ve spent every day for weeks with this man, but somehow the thought of officially living together makes my palms sweat.
“I haven’t,” I answer honestly.
“Would you?”
“Move in with you? Archer, I—”
He slips his hand down the front of my sweats, and I know what he’s doing. The man uses sex like a weapon.
Wants to pick what we watch on television? Hand down the front of my pants.
Having an argument over what food to order? Hand down the front of my pants.
I step back. This isn’t one of the times he can manipulate me. This is a big decision.
“That’s a huge step,” I say.
“It is,” he agrees, and I can hear the petulance in his voice without even looking at him. “I know we haven’t just come out and said it, but I—”
“Don’t,” I say, taking another step back.
I chance a look at him and immediately regret it.
I give him a soft smile. “My life doesn’t look like this. My future—this isn’t it.”
I expect to see pain in his eyes, but instead, I watch as he shutters his emotions, and it’s worse than him getting mad or upset. The man looking at me now isn’t the man that has spent weeks with a smile on his face. Once again, he’s the old Archer, the man who blocks it all out.
“What I’m trying to say is what we have right now is good. I don’t understand why things need to change.”
“Is this what it will always look like?”
I take another step back, honestly shocked that he’s spoken at all.
“We’ll have sex every day. We’ll laugh and joke with each other. Then, when we need to leave the house, you’re my bodyguard and nothing else?”
I know it bothers Archer that I haven’t touched him in public, that I haven’t acknowledged what happens with us behind closed doors.
“I can’t answer that,” I tell him truthfully.
“But you already did, didn’t you? I’m not your future. Your life doesn’t look like this. Isn’t that what you said? Is it that you don’t do relationships, or you just can’t do one with a man?”
There’s nothing that I can say to make this right, so I choose to keep quiet.
“I want more,” Archer says, his voice soft, resigned.
“And I can’t be in the spotlight with you. Falling for a rock star can’t happen. I don’t want the glamour and stardom.”
“I don’t even have a fucking band any longer.”
“And last week you spoke at length about writing music again. It won’t be long before you’re right back up at the top.”
“You’re leaving me because of what may or may not happen in the future.”
“I’m not leaving you,” I argue. “Archer—”
My mouth clamps closed when he steps back, preventing me from touching him.
“If there’s no way our futures line up, then we’re only wasting time with each other.”
My throat seizes. “That’s not—fuck, Archer. Do we really need to do this now?”
He scoffs. “Do you think it’ll be any easier on me a year from now?”
I haven’t even thought that far into the future, but apparently, he has.
“Goodbye, Brooks.”
I almost cave. I almost offer to give him anything that he wants, but I just can’t.
I lean closer, needing to brush my lips over his one last time, but he steps back again.
I walk back inside, rushing up the stairs to pull on more clothes.
As I leave his house, I’ve never felt more rejected in my life, and the problem is, I did this to myself.
Chapter 36
Archer
“I normally don’t push, but you seem out of sorts today,” Dr. Kent says.
“I’ve been doing what I need,” I tell her without further explanation.
And I have. After Brooks left my house a week ago, I took steps to ensure my own happiness.
It was difficult to come to the realization that I can’t live to make other people happy. I can’t force their hand any more than they should be able to force mine.