He snorted. “John Wick and his dog?”
Okay. “Rude.” I shoved him and he laughed.
The slap of shoes on the driveway had me turning, and my heart caught. Archie jogged toward us, his bare chest gleaming with sweat. His muscles flexed as he moved and rippled along his legs. There was a sweatshirt tied around his waist, and he tugged the ear buds off as he slowed.
“Hey,” he said, his breath coming in little pants. The effect took me back to Friday, and I licked my lips. He really was gorgeous, even with the bruise darkening his cheek and just below his eye. It wasn’t quite a black eye, but it looked like it hurt. His disheveled hair stuck up in places and clung to his damp forehead. While he wasn’t as in to sports as Jake or Ian, he kept fit.
“Hi,” I greeted him.
“Morning, Arch,” Coop said as he leaned back against my car.
“Glad to see you made it,” Archie said quietly. Guilt twisted in my gut. I’d planned to just grab my car and go. I was pretty sure Archie recognized that. But he didn’t say anything other than, “Did you sleep okay?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I think I was just exhausted.” Which wasn’t a lie. “Did you?” I’d left in the middle of his party.
He shrugged. “Not bad. Got to bed late, took us a while to get rid of everyone. Then Jake took Coop home.”
Shame skated through me. Part of the plan had been all of us spending the night. At the same time, I couldn’t have stayed, not after…
A car moved up the driveway, and my heart pounded like a fist against my ribs. The vehicle slowed, and Archie pivoted to face it. It was a sleek, black Town Car. The driver stepped out then moved around and opened the rear passenger door.
Muriel Standish exited in her all her graceful, poised glory, and my stomach plummeted. Archie’s mom was gorgeous, self-possessed, and classy as hell. She was also the wife of the man my mom was screwing.
Bile coated the back of my throat.
“Archibald,” his mother greeted him.
“Muriel,” he said in the exact same cool tone she’d used. The driver was removing two suitcases from the trunk as Muriel eyed her son expectantly. With a sigh, Archie narrowed the distance and pressed a kiss to her cheek. He towered over her by a couple of inches, even while she was in heels.
“Do me a favor and take those in for Jeremy, yes?” Then she glanced past Archie to me and Coop. I had never wanted to be in a place less.
“Francesca,” she said slowly, sweeping her gaze over me. I straightened, but there wasn’t much I could do for the tank top and leggings, much less lack of bra. “Cooper.”
“Mrs. Standish,” Coop greeted her, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “We were just heading out to grab food, I’m starving.”
“Nonsense,” she said, glancing at me again, and Archie straightened behind her, his eyes narrowing. “I haven’t seen you kids in ages. We really must catch up. Francesca, sweetheart, come…” She held out her hand toward me. “I want to hear about those Harvard plans Archibald mentioned. Is that still in the offing?”
If I ignored the overture, I was rude. If I didn’t—oh God, how did I do this?
“Muriel,” Archie said. “They were just swinging by to drop some homework off. Not to visit.”
“But they’re hungry,” Muriel said, and her gaze fixed on me. Did she know? Was that why…? “So come on, dear. I haven’t seen you since last spring, it’s been ages.”
Dread curdling in my gut, I forced my hand to take hers, and she smiled.
“That’s better.” She tucked my arm through hers. “You were fond of Jeremy’s French toast if I recall correctly.”
“Um, yes, ma’am,” I told her. “It’s really good.”
“Excellent.”
There was quiet behind me, but as Jeremy opened the door to greet us all, Archie and Coop were right behind me.
“Good morning, madam,” Jeremy greeted her. “Miss Frankie. Mr. Coop. Mr. Archie.”
“Jeremy, darling, coffee please—at least two gallons, and breakfast for the children. Francesca’s prefers the French toast.”
“Of course,” he said.