CHAPTER 24
Archer
I stood at my kitchen sink, drinking down a glass of water in big gulps. I had just gotten back from a run on the shore with the dogs. I wouldn't be able to do that for too much longer once the weather turned.
I stood there thinking about what I was going to do today, feeling a heaviness in my gut that I wasn't sure how to handle. I had felt the same way before my run, too, and thought that the exercise would clear my head. It hadn't.
I was restless, pure and simple. And it wasn't a physical restlessness, apparently. It was mental. When I had awoken that morning, the smell of Bree all around me in the tangled sheets, I had felt happy and content. But then when I realized she had gone, I got up and tried to figure out what to do with my day. There were any number of projects I could work on, but none of them interested me. I had a vague sense that it was a topic that I needed to give some serious consideration to. What are you going to do with your life, Archer? Bree had shaken things up for me–and at the moment, all I could feel was unease. I never expected anyone to come in and open up the world for me, but that's what she had done. And now I had possibilities that I didn't think I'd had before. But they all revolved around her. And that scared me. That scared the living hell out of me.
I heard a knock on my gate and set the glass down. Was Bree off early?
I walked outside my house toward the gate and spotted Travis walking down my driveway toward me.
I stood waiting for him to approach, wondering what the hell he wanted.
He put his hands up in a 'don't shoot me' mock pose, and I cocked my head to the side, waiting.
Travis took a folded paper out of his back pocket and when he got to where I was standing, handed it to me. I took it, but didn't open it.
"Application for a learner's permit," he said. "You'll just need to bring your birth certificate and proof of address with you. A water bill or whatever."
I raised my eyebrows, glancing down at the paper. What did he have up his sleeve now?
"I owe you an apology for what I did with the strip club thing. It was… immature and uncool. And I'm actually glad to see that you and Bree worked it out. I think she really likes you, man."
I wanted to ask him how he knew that–I knew she liked me, maybe more, but I longed to hear what she had told Travis about me, if anything. Of course, even if I'd been able to, it wouldn't be a good idea to ask him–he'd just mess with me, most likely. But I didn't know how to talk about all my feelings with Bree. I knew sex didn't equal love, so how would I know if she loved me if she didn't tell me? And if she wasn't telling me, did that mean that she didn't love me? I was all twisted up and I had no one to talk to.
And the hell of it was, I knew I loved her–fiercely and with every part of my heart, even the broken parts, even the parts that felt unworthy and without value. And maybe those parts most of all.
"So," Travis went on, "can we call a truce? All's fair in love and war and all that? You win, you won the girl. Can't blame a guy for trying though, right? No hard feelings?" He held his hand out to me.
I looked at it. I trusted Travis about as far as I could throw him, but what was the point in making this some kind of ongoing war between us? He was right–I'd won. Bree was mine. With the thought alone, a fierce possessiveness roared through me. I reached out and shook his hand, still eyeing him distrustfully.
Travis rested his thumbs on his gun belt. "So I guess you already know that Bree's friends are in town–her hometown friends."
I frowned and pulled my head back slightly and gave myself away. Travis got an 'oh shit,' look on his face. "Shit, she didn't tell you?" he asked. He looked away and then back at me. "Well, I'm sure it's gotta be hard for her, I mean, here she is, she likes you and at some point, she's gotta go home, back to her real life. That's a tough position to be in."
Home? To her real life? What the hell was he talking about?
Travis studied me and sighed out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. "Shit man, you don't have some kind of delusion that she's going to stay here and work in a small town diner all her life, do you? Maybe come live in this little clapboard shack you call a house and have lots of babies that you'll have no way to support?" He laughed, but when I didn't, his smile drained away and a pitying look replaced it. "Oh hell, that's exactly what you hope, isn't it?"
Blood was roaring in my ears. I hadn't exactly pictured any of that, but the thought of her leaving at all had icy fear racing through my veins.
"F*ck. Listen Archer, when I said you won her, I just meant for the meantime, for a few warm nights, a couple dalliances in your truck. I mean, good for you, you deserve that, man. But shit, don't start fantasizing about more than that. She might tell you she'll stay–she'll probably even mean it for a little while. But a girl like Bree, she went to college, she wants a life eventually. She's here to get away temporarily, to heal a wound–and then she'll leave. And why wouldn't she? What do you have to really offer her? Bree's beautiful–there will always be a guy who wants her and can give her more." He shook his head. "What can you give her, Archer? Really?"
I was standing frozen in front of this a*shole. I wasn't so stupid that I didn't see what he was doing. He was playing a card. But unfortunately for me, the card he was playing was based in truth. He had a winning hand and he knew it. That's what he had come to do–destroy me with the truth. To remind me that I was nothing. And maybe it was a good reminder.
I didn't even know if he wanted her anymore. He might not. But now it was about me not having her either. He was going to win, in one way or another. I saw it–I knew. I had seen that same look on another man's face once. I remembered what it meant.
He took another deep breath, looking slightly embarrassed, or maybe pretending to. He cleared his throat. "Anyway," he pointed to the piece of paper in my hand, "good luck with the permit. You shouldn't have to walk everywhere you go." He nodded at me. "Take care, Archer."
Then he turned and walked back up my driveway and out through the gate. I stood there for a long time, feeling small, imagining her gone, and trying to remember how to keep breathing.
