ChapterFourteen
Archer
Three weeks. Three weeks of work, sweat, meetings, and Killian. Three weeks of figuring out exactly who we could be together as we took the next steps into whatever the hell we were.
I still couldn’t quite believe it hadonlybeen three weeks and had already been three weeks since our first date.
“I’m a little worried,” Killian said as he walked into his bedroom, buttoning up his shirt.
I tried not to be sad that he was closing off his muscles to me, but I would still be able to see them when he moved, so that was something.
“Eyes up here, Montgomery.”
I guiltily raised my eyes from his now-clothed chest and grinned up at him.
“I can’t help it. You’re pretty.”
He grunted as he shook his head, his blond hair falling over his forehead.
“What are you worried about?”
“What do you think I’m worried about?”
I winced. “The fact that the cops haven’t figured out who did this to your house?”
Killian looked up and blinked at me. “Well, yes, but I wasn’t thinking about that. I was thinking about the fact that I’m going to a family dinner.”
“Oh. So, I probably shouldn’t have brought up the whole vandalism thing.”
I winced and lowered my head, feeling like an idiot. Of course, Killian hadn’t wanted the reminder that somebody kept trying to harm his property. A property that had meant so much to him because he was building it for his wife and daughter. I knew the symbolism behind the place and why he was working hard, not sleeping, and continuing to put blood, sweat, and tears into it.
I hurt because he was hurting, and was angry that someone was trying to damage the place. I understood why Killian still needed to build this place. Just because we were together now didn’t mean he had to drop everything from his past and ignore it.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that up.”
Killian cursed under his breath. “Don’t apologize to me. Yes, I’m still worried about that. But you don’t have to ball yourself up into the corner and pretend that what happened didn’t happen. You don’t have to hide from me or feel bad about bringing something up. I’m not fucking Marc.”
I looked up at him then, and I could feel the blood drain from my face.
“Are you serious right now? That’s what you’re bringing up? ‘I’m not Marc.’”
“Fuck. That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean? Because you’re right, I wasn’t good about standing up to Marc. Even if he never hit me, he still made me feel like shit. I don’t want to feel like shit here.”
“And yet you were making yourself feel like shit just now because you thought you said something to hurt me. You didn’t.”
“Then why are we fighting?” I asked, my voice rising.
“Because I don’t like it when you’re hard on yourself. Because when you are, it just reminds me that I can’t hurt that man, and then I feel like you’re comparing me to him.”
“That’s not what I’m doing, and you know it.”
“I really don’t, Archer. I’m still getting used to this whole thing.”
“Fine. Me too.”
“Okay. Everything’s okay.”