Page 62 of Archer
I widen my eyes at him and press a hand over my suddenly racing heart. “Um. Probably not possible based on your reaction.”
His eyes crash shut. A moment later, they pop back open, and he grits out, “Fuck, sorry. I don’t want to hide this from you, and I’ll be investigating further as soon as Kingston wakes up and Cannon gets in from his run.”
The exasperation and concern in his tone has me sitting up straighter. Worry floods my system, and I swallow past the growing lump in my throat. I meet his gaze, and those silvery gray eyes don’t necessarily rid me of my fears, but I see a grim determination in them. Archer won’t let anything or anyone hurt me. Neither will Cannon or Kingston. “Tell me.”
He presses his lips together into a firm line before shaking his head. “Better to show you.” He moves the cursor on the screen to select the camera footage he wants me to look at. “First, there’s this.”
As I watch the screen, I recognize this camera angle as the one Archer installed in the hallway to catch anyone who comes upstairs by our rooms when they realized someone was slipping awful notes under my door. There’s nothing crazy at first until he zooms forward… to two in the morning when a masculine figure wearing all black, including a ski mask to cover his face comes down the hallway. I suck in a startled breath as I watch whoever this guy is stop for several seconds, standing motionless outside my door. My brows dart together. “Who the hellisthat? And what does he think he’s doing?”
Archer runs a hand through my hair from the crown of my head to the middle of my back, and when he continues to do it, it almost seems more like a bid to calm himself, rather than me. “Well, I suppose he’s making sure no one is awake in the room he wants to break into.”
I freeze. My room. Sure enough, whoever he is edges toward my door, placing a hand on it and leaning in, listening closely. Then he tests the handle and finds it unlocked. A sick feeling rolls through me. Whoever this is and whatever he’s doing, we sure as hell made it easy on him by leaving the door unlocked in our hurried rush across the hall to the larger bed.
Archer pulls his hand from the mouse to rub it over his stubble-covered cheek. “I was fucking awake when he did this.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
He lets out an exasperated sigh, then reaches forward to switch camera views. “Still fuckin’ pissed about it. Here, watch what he does next.”
I draw in a nervous breath, leaning into Archer and tucking my head next to his neck. His musky scent drifts up my nose, comforting me, despite the fact that I’m watching someone creep around my fucking room on the computer monitor.
He loops an arm around my waist and presses his soft lips to the top of my head. I watch in amazement and dismay as the intruder stands in my room, looking around before he shrugs and heads for the closet of all places. “Whoever the fucker is, he knows what he’s doing.”
“Dude”—I shift, side-eyeing him briefly before returning to the action on the monitor—“you have a camera in my closet?”
“Yeah. It’s been there since day one. The angle is bad, though. I can’t tell what the hell he’s doing because of the direction it’s facing.” He clears his throat and points at the screen. “He’s in there doing fuck knows what for about three minutes, then leaves, none of us any the wiser. I had this niggling feeling that I should check the cameras again.”
“Well… did you go back to see where he came in and follow him through the house to see where the hell he went when he left?”
Archer gives me one of those exactly-who-do-you-think-I-am looks. “Of course. He came in and went out the fucking patio door, then disappeared across the back lawn. I’ve spent the last hour trying to find anything at all. There’s no other sign of him.”
I shift on his lap, wincing a bit, then train my eyes over his shoulder when his eyes narrow. My face grows warm beneath his curious stare.
“Elliot”—he touches a few fingers to my chin, guiding my face to his—“come with me.”
“What?”
“Bathroom. Let’s go.” He helps me up, patting my ass as I rise, which makes me smile. I don’t know what he’s up to, but I do trust him. Completely. He takes my hand, lacing his fingers with mine before bringing them up to kiss the back of my knuckles. The brush of his lips over my skin has me melting. He leads me into the bathroom, and doesn’t hesitate, simply matter-of-factly brings me over to the big claw-foot tub and begins to draw a hot bath. My cheeks pink up as I stand there, still holding his hand. “We should have thought of this last night,” he murmurs, a look of dismay slipping over his features as he glances back at me.
I bite down on my lip. “I’m fine. Really. I… liked it.”
“Yeah, but you’re uncomfortable today. A little soak in the tub will do you good. We have time before classes. It’s early.” He lets go of my hand to pick up a little jar sitting on a stool next to the tub. Untwisting the cap, he adds a sprinkle of the contents to the bath.
I drag in a breath, eyeing the tub. Finally, my curiosity wins out over any embarrassment I might have. “What’d you add?”
“Just Epsom salt. It might help.”
My brows raise. “Oh.”
His gaze connects mine, one brow rising on his forehead. “Sometimes when I can’t sleep, I have a soak in the tub to relax. I can get… anxious sometimes.” His head bows, and at first, I think he’s upset about whatever he’s thinking about, but I quickly realize that’s not it at all. His eyes are locked on my bare legs, and he almost has to force his gaze upward. My face heats, head tangled in the memory of the absolute bliss I’d experienced—we’d experienced. All four of us, together. I’m still knocked sideways at the way we so seamlessly fit, like four pieces of a puzzle that lock beautifully into place.
Archer tugs me closer to his side, then skims his fingers down my cheek. “Don’t ever think you can’t tell me things. No matter what it is. I never want you to worry about a thing. You can always talk to me.” He tips my chin up and stares into my eyes. I wait for him to say something else—anything—but he swallows hard and shakes his head. “Sorry. Getting all fuckin’ mushy on you.”
“I like that, too.” I chew on my lip, trying to tell him through the intensity of our connected gaze just how much I like it, how much I need him. All of them. But Archer, he’s the one I’ve always been able to show my vulnerability to. For some reason, I know I can trust him with all of my very darkest, deepest secrets.
The only thing that worries me—well, that’s dumb, there’s plenty that worries me—is how much he can handle, because I suspect there’s stuff he keeps close to his chest, just like Kingston and Cannon. Knowing Archer, I can’t shake the feeling that he’s got shit going on that no one is aware of.
He reaches out to flip the faucet lever, then helps me slip the shirt I stole from him over my head. As I stand naked before him, I drag in a shuddering breath, then let it escape slowly. His lips curve up at the edges, and he brings one hand up, letting his fingertips graze over the tops of my breasts. He watches himself do it, mesmerized. After a moment, he seems to give himself a small shake, meeting my eyes again. “Let’s get you in the tub.” Putting one arm around my back, he takes hold of my hands to steady me as I carefully step into the tub, then sink down into the warm water until I’m up to my chin.