He’s in the living room and looks stressed. The first thing I think is that he has to go into the hospital and our lunch date will be cut short again. I’ll be a little disappointed if that’s true, and a little scared to be here alone again. Sam is working today, but this time if someone knocks at the door, I won’t leave the bedroom.
I go into Archer’s room and look through my bag. I either overpack or underpack with no middle ground. Since I wasn’t planning on being here today, I’m down to one dress to wear, and it’s more of a date-night dress than a casual lunch-date dress. Oh well. Archer seems to like when I show off my boobs.
I get dressed and go into the kitchen to get an anti-nausea pill. I still feel guilty taking them, but being sick constantly is really wearing me out. Archer is still on the phone but smiles when he sees me, and my heart speeds up.
“Okay,” he says to whoever he’s talking to on the phone. “We’ll see you soon.” He hangs up and sits on the couch next to me. “You look pretty, babe.”
“Thanks.” I lean into him, finding the smell of his cologne irresistible, which is kind of funny since my own perfume makes me want to vomit. “Do you have to go into the hospital?”
“Not yet,” he says with a smile. He looks away. “You know how you wanted to meet up with my parents?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Want to today?”
“Uh, sure?” I tip my head, not exactly following.
“They’re in town. Just got here last night.” He still doesn’t look at me.
“Oh, that’s great!” Isn’t it? Archer doesn’t seem too thrilled. I know there was a lot of family drama going on while he was in college, but he never seemed to openly hate his parents or anything. “Did they come into town to surprise you or something?”
His hand lands on the back of his neck. “Or something.” He turns to me, brows pinched together. “Quinn, that guy who shoved the door into you yesterday is my brother.”
I blink. Did I hear Archer right? “Your brother?”
“Yeah. Robert. But we, uh, we still call him Bobby.” Archer lets out a breath and closes his eyes in a long blink. “I haven’t seen him in years and I have no idea why he was looking for me. My parents are in town because they are trying to find him. He’d been doing all right for a few months and then relapsed.”
“Your brother is an addict?”
“You don’t know?” Archer asks, and I shake my head. “That’s why I stayed with you so much during college.”
“Because of your brother?” I’m repeating myself, but I’m having a hard time comprehending this.
“Yes. No one told you why I was there?”
“My mom said it was because of family drama and never went into it more than that. I just assumed it was about your parents fighting or getting a divorce or something.”
He leans back, sighing heavily. “My brother caused drama between my parents. But it’s always been him at the root of our issues. Do you remember that first Christmas I spent with you guys?”
“I do. Jamie and I thought you were so cute and got into a fight over who could try to get you to stand under mistletoe with us.”
Archer softly laughs. “I actually remember that. Dean was so annoyed with you two.”
“You knew? We thought we were being very discreet.”
“Not at all.” He meets my eyes, smiling. “My brother was in Vegas and overdosed. Before he OD’d, though, he stole money from a Salvation Army bucket set up outside a store. My parents had to fly out and deal with him.”
“Oh my God. I remember Logan and Owen saying something about your brother being in Vegas, and how he was a crazy partier.”
“He’s been ‘partying’ for the last fifteen years.”
I move closer to Archer. “I’m so sorry, Archer.”
“No,” he says, jaw tensing. “I’m sorry.” He gently touches my wrist, which he rewrapped for me once we got out of the shower. “My asshole brother hurt you. He almost hurt our baby. This isn’t fair to you, and I should have been there and—”
I cut him off with a kiss.
“Archer, I don’t blame you, and you shouldn’t either.”
Archer pulls me into his lap, hand resting over my stomach. My skin is a little tender from being bruised, and I felt that weird, tight pulling sensation again after sex. But it went away fast, didn’t come back, and I’m not bleeding or spotting. I guess I’m one of the lucky ones who’s going to feel every growing pain, but hey—I’ll take it as long as the baby is okay.
“I do blame myself. I had no idea he was coming, but I still feel like I should have warned you. He hurt you, Quinn. That’s not okay.”
“No, it’s not,” I agree. “But it still isn’t your fault.”
“Bobby is a selfish asshole who will use and cheat anyone to get money for drugs. You don’t need that in your life. You said you don’t want any more family drama, and that’s all he is. He’s been missing for days and causes nothing but stress for my parents.”
“Days?”
“Yeah. He relapsed and left.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask Archer.
“It’s not an easy thing to bring up.”
I turn my head down, carefully considering my words. “We’re having a baby together, Archer. There’s going to be a lot of things that aren’t easy.” Watching his face, I debate on whether to go on or not. The words are there, wanting to come out and be confessed. I bring my hand to his chest, rubbing the hem of his collar between my fingers. “Do you remember when I said it felt like you were playing a game with me?”
“Yeah. Do you still?”
I shake my head. “No, but I still feel like you don’t really let me in. I don’t know what you’re thinking, and it makes me feel like I’m on the outside. Maybe I’m being dramatic and hormonal or whatever, but I want to feel like you let me in.”
Brow furrowed, Archer runs his hand through my hair. Then his eyes fall shut and he pulls me into an embrace. “Right now,” he starts. “I’m thinking you’re too good for me.”
“I am pretty good,” I say with a smile, hugging him back. “But you are too.” Hugging him back, I want him to let the walls down. I’m falling for him and know his hesitation to let me in is holding me back.
It makes me feel like he doesn’t trust me with his heart.
“I don’t want you to feel like I’m shutting you out,” he says. “I’ve never had anyone close enough to share this shit with. Besides Dean, I guess.”
Archer told me he’d rather be with me than be friends with Dean, but it didn’t really hit me until right now just what he was giving up.
“So junior year, you spent most of the summer with us,” I start. “Your parents were in Florida.”
He nods. “At a rehab center with Bobby. He lasted a month and a half.” His brows furrow and he looks away. I can see the anger on his face, and I wish I could take it away. I can only imagine what it’d feel like to have one of my brothers go through something like that. I’d be sick with worry and so angry and frustrated.
“My parents are good people,” Archer says quietly. “They tried, and I still don’t know how Bobby ended up the way he did.”
“They raised you,” I say. “And I think they did a pretty good job there.”
He smiles and relaxes just a bit. “Yeah. Is it horrible to admit I wish I could just forget about him? I think part of why I never mentione
d him was because I’d rather pretend he wasn’t there.”
“No, it’s not horrible. It’s easier to forget and not deal.”
He nods. “I’m done dealing with his shit. He’s never going to get better.”
“Maybe he—”
“No. It’s been fifteen years. He’s been to court-ordered rehab more than once. My parents nearly went broke trying to get him into other private rehab centers. He has a disease where the cure has yet to be found.”
I run my nails up and down Archer’s arm. I’m sure I’d be just as angry and unwilling to forgive if I grew up with Bobby. I’ve only met him for a total of two minutes and I already don’t like the guy. But he’s Archer’s brother, and I’d never give up on my brothers.
Fuck, this is complicated.
“I’m sorry to throw this all on you,” Archer says.
“You’re not. You’re my boyfriend, and this little gal’s daddy.” I point to my stomach. “Your baggage is my baggage. And mine is yours.”
Archer runs his hand over my hair. “You don’t have any baggage.”
“I do,” I insist. “And I’d feel better if I confessed.”
Archer purses his lips, trying not to laugh. “Should I prepare myself for the skeletons in your closet?”
“Just don’t judge me.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I used to be really into competitive robot fighting. Like really into it.”
Archer looks at me, blinks, and raises an eyebrow. “That’s a real thing?”
“It is. I’m not a competitive person, but it brought it out in me and I used my personal money to sponsor the team.”
Archer laughs. “There are teams in robot fighting?”
“Yeah. It takes a team to build. That’s, uh, how I met Jacob.”
“Your ex?”
Wrinkling my nose, I nod.