Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Jesus. What a mess. You know that none of that is your fault, right? Your brothers taking care of you, or the anger they have for each other.”
I shrug because truth doesn’t have much to do with fault. A lot of fault is really in how someone feels. “Just wanted to explain a little, is all.”
“I…okay. Thank you for telling me. And I’m not sure if this is the right time to say this, but I also don’t want to feel like I’m keeping something from you… Me and Dusty, we’ve slept together before.”
My head whips in his direction, pressure landing in my chest, growing by the second. I shouldn’t care. It doesn’t matter. Archer isn’t mine, but…
Like he knows, reading me the way he always does, Archer pulls off to the side of the road. “It wasn’t like it is with us, sweetheart. We were simply scratching an itch, for lack of a better term.”
“And what are we doing?”
“I don’t know, but it’s more.” He cups my cheek the way he so often does. “You’re more.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t waste that on me.”
“It’s not a waste, and there’s no stopping it. But I’m not pushing you either. We can go back to not talking about it now if you want. I just needed to make sure you understand that.”
I nuzzle my face into his hand, then nod. Not talking about it is a whole lot easier than telling Archer I’m scared I’m going to fall for him, but that I’ll do it wrong and ruin everything.
We’re quiet the rest of the way home. He’s got me all up in my feels the way Archer does so easily. “I need you to…”
“Yeah, I will. I want it too,” he replies without me needing to finish my sentence.
We give the dogs some attention, and then Archer follows me upstairs.
“Shower,” he says, and I listen. Once we’re inside, his mouth finds mine, his arms tight around me.
One moment we’re under the spray, getting cleaned up, and the next we’re dried off and in bed, Archer slicking up his fingers before slipping one, then two between my cheeks, then deep in my ass. Like always, I melt against him, feel like I’m floating above everything else while also feeling weighed down.
“Sometimes it’s like there’s too much going on inside me. I think too much and feel too much. I can’t control it, and I feel like I’m gonna lose myself, but this…this helps.”
He slides his fingers in, then out, reminding me he’s there, making that emptiness retreat.
“It does something for me too…giving you this…”
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
His eyes on mine, mine on his.
Please don’t let me ruin this.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Archer
Birchbark has been busier than usual the past week, and with one of our officers out, I’ve had to pick up extra shifts. It’s cut into my time with Easton, which isn’t something I’m happy about, but it can’t be helped.
Surprisingly, he’s been texting me. A few nights ago, out of the blue, he sent me a photo of Casanova and Pretty Girl playing outside, then another of them cuddling on the dog bed. He’s sent me a photo of dinner he made too. I’ve noticed he mostly sends pictures—something that must be easier for East than using words—and then I’ll engage in conversation, which he’ll respond to. I’m trying not to focus on the fact that it feels like his way of reaching out because thinking things like that might set me up for more heartache in the future. But clearly, he does want to reach out, and I’m smart enough to see that as the gift it is.
Just like when he talked to me about Ella. It wasn’t much, just how they both liked snow and their snowball fights, but for East, that’s huge.
I’m leaving the station for the day, exhausted, and I know East is working late tonight on a vehicle they need to get done, so I find myself driving to Cora’s. I’ve seen my sister a couple of times in a work capacity, but we haven’t hung out in a while. That’s not typical for us. Between East and work, I haven’t seen any of my family nearly as much as I typically do.
Plus, thinking about East often makes me think about Cora. He’s in so much pain from losing his sister, and it’s a reminder of how lucky I am to have mine, that we share the relationship we do. East never got to grow up with Ella. He didn’t get to tell her boyfriends or girlfriends to be good to her or learn to drive with her. He didn’t get to help her sneak out like a good brother does and cover for her when she almost got caught. He didn’t have her to talk to, and like me and Cora, to be the first person we shared our queerness with or the million other memories I have with her.