“Do you have any cake around here?” Archer asks as we walk back into the open living area. My apartment is industrial with a tall ceiling and pipes and vents hanging down. I love this space.
“Not up here,” I reply. “But I have some cupcakes left over in the shop downstairs.”
“You make cupcakes and wedding cakes?” Kane asks.
“No, I buy cupcakes from Succulent Sweets downtown to sell to people who walk in. I hated that, during open hours, I didn’t have anything ready to carry out at that moment. And the owner of Succulent Sweets is married to—”
“Another cousin,” Kane guesses, making me grin.
“Yes, my cousin, Matt. His wife’s shop is amazing. I have a part-time helper who happens to live over that way, and she brings them with her in the mornings.”
“Will you go get them for dessert?” Archer asks, giving me puppy dog eyes.
“Go get them yourself,” I reply. “You have two working legs.”
“Isn’t she something?” Kane asks with a grin.
“Yep, she’s something. A pain in my ass,” Archer says but hurries out to fetch the cupcakes.
“I’m sorry about this,” I say when the door is closed. “I thought we’d have a few more hours of alone time.”
“We will, after he leaves,” Kane says. “Unless you’d rather I not stay tonight.”
I tip my head to the side. “You want to stay, do you?”
“Aye.” He leans in and plants his lips next to my ear. “One more night together might appease me for a few days. I’ll just call Maggie and ask her to take care of Murphy.”
He says the sweetest things. Is it because of the accent that it sounds extra sexy? I don’t know. But I’m relieved that he wants to stay, and I’m not even going to overthink it.
“I found red velvet,” Archer announces when he returns. “And chocolate. And two lemon, but I already ate those.”
“Shocker,” I mutter with a wink and walk back into the kitchen. I open my wine fridge, contemplating the contents while the boys start talking about something else. The bromance is strong here.
I guess it could be worse. They could hate each other. I think of how Kane and Keegan feel about Joey, and I’m immediately relieved to know that, so far, Archer seems to really like Kane.
My phone pings with a text, and I’m surprised to see who it’s from.
Elena Watkins was Archer’s girlfriend in high school. And when they were eighteen, for roughly nine days, she was his wife.
To this day, I don’t know exactly what happened to break them up. It had something to do with her parents and threats, but neither Elena nor Archer will tell me about it. Elena and I keep in touch every few months so she can check in to see how Archer is, and I can relay back to him how she is, if he asks.
Which he never does.
Ever.
Also? Elena always texts from a different phone number and speaks in code as if she’s in the CIA or something. She always sends the same exact message, and my replies back are the same as well.
Elena: Have you been to any new restaurants lately?
This is code for: How’s Archer? Because the man eats more than anyone in the world. Well, besides Will.
Me: Nope, just the same ol’ same ol’.
And that’s code for: He’s fine, and everything’s the same.
If she has news, she’ll reply.
If she doesn’t, I won’t hear from her again for a couple of months.
Elena and I were close friends in school, and while she dated my brother, but after everything went down, we parted ways. I don’t hate her. I actually really like her. I just wish I knew exactly what happened between them, and how to get them back together again.
Because Elena and Archer belong together. That much I know.
Just as the oven dings, signaling that our dinner’s ready, Kane has to take a call.
“I’ll be right back,” he says.
“This has to sit for a minute anyway,” I say, waving him off. Kane heads for my bedroom, and I take the opportunity to talk to my brother. “I just got a text from Elena.”
His blue eyes widen, and his hand trembles when he rubs it over his mouth, and then he pulls himself together and shrugs.
Why are you torturing yourself like this?
“That’s nice.”
“Do you want to know what it said?”
“No. Why would I?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Because you love her?” I roll my eyes. “Archer, it’s been fifteen years. If she’s still texting me several times a year to find out if you’re okay, she still feels something for you. Why are we playing this game? Why aren’t you going after her?”
“It’s none of your business, Stasia.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s not.”
“I love you, and you’re hurting. Of course, it’s my business. You stick your nose into my and Amelia’s relationships.”
“No, I don’t. I have a two-minute conversation to make sure I don’t have to kill anyone, and then I chill. You need to chill.”