Will you stay, Bree? He asked. Will you stay here with me? He looked like a little boy in that moment, and I realized how much he needed me to tell him that I wouldn't go away like everyone else in his life had.
I nodded my head. Yes, I said. Yes. I meant it with my whole heart. My life was here now–my life was this man. Whatever that meant–I wasn't going anywhere.
He looked in my eyes as if trying to decide if I was being completely honest and seemed to be satisfied with what he saw. He nodded and pulled me to him, holding me tight.
He hadn't told me he loved me, and I hadn't said it to him either. But in that moment, I realized I was in love with him. So deeply in love that it almost bubbled to the surface of my lips, and I had to physically clamp my mouth shut not to shout it. But somehow, I thought I needed to wait for him to say it. If he was falling in love with me, too, I wanted him to come to that realization on his own. Archer had lived a life so devoid of human kindness, of touch and attention. It had to be overwhelming for him. We hadn't discussed it, but I had watched his eyes as we did simple things over the past week, like lay on the couch and read, or eat a meal together, or walk on the shore of the lake, and it was as if he was trying to organize all the thoughts and feelings in his head–playing sixteen years of emotional catch up. Perhaps we should have talked about it, perhaps that would have helped him, but for some reason, we never did. Inside, it was my deepest hope that my love would be enough to heal his wounded heart.
After a minute he let go of me, and I sat up and looked at him. He had a small smile on his face. I have a favor to ask you, he said.
I furrowed my brows. Okay, I said, giving him a suspicious look.
Will you teach me how to drive?
How to… yes! Of course! You want to drive?
He nodded his head. My uncle had a pick-up truck. I keep it in a garage in town. They start it up every once in a while and drive it around. I always meant to sell it, but I just never got around to it, never really… knew exactly how I'd do that. But now maybe that's a good thing.
I was excited and I practically bounced up and down on the couch. This was the first real time that Archer had indicated on his own that he wanted to do something that would take him away from his own property–other than grocery shop.
Okay! When? I asked. I don't have to work tomorrow.
Okay then, tomorrow, he said, smiling and gathering me to him.
And so it came to be that Archer was behind the wheel of a big, piece of junk-looking pick-up truck, while I sat in the passenger seat, trying to teach him the rules of the road and how to operate a stick shift. We had chosen a large open space a couple miles down the highway, just off the lake.
"Smell that?" I asked. "That's the smell of burning clutch. Eeeeease off of it."
After about an hour of practice, Archer pretty much had it, with the exception of a few lurches, which had me stomping on my imaginary brake and laughing out loud.
He grinned over at me, his eyes roaming down to my bare legs. I followed his gaze and crossed my legs, hiking my skirt up just a little bit in the process and then glancing back up at him. His eyes were already dilating, making them dark and droop very slightly. Oh God, I loved that look. That look meant very, very good things for me.
"Driving is serious business, Archer," I said teasingly. "Letting your attention roam from the task at hand could be dangerous for everyone involved." I smiled prettily, tucking my hair behind my ear.
He raised his eyebrows, amusement filling his expression, and turned back to the front window. The truck moved forward, Archer speeding up and shifting into second gear easily. The dirt area we were in wasn't so large that Archer could practice fourth gear yet, but he moved to third gear and steered us in wide circles.
I crossed my legs in the other direction and ran a finger up my thigh, just stopping at the hem of my skirt. I glanced at Archer and his eyes were riveted on my finger. He glanced out the front window briefly and kept driving in wide circles.
I was distracting him, but there was no danger here.
I let my finger continue to trail up my thigh, hiking my skirt up now so that my pink, polka dot underwear were showing.
I glanced at Archer and his lips were parted slightly and his eyes were hungry as they watched to see what I would do next. Truth be told, I had never done anything like this before. But Archer brought things out in me that no one ever had–he made me feel sexy and experimental and safe. He made me feel more alive than I'd ever felt in all my life.
As I watched him, he swallowed heavily and glanced back at the front window before looking back at me.
I reached my fingers down the front of my underwear and leaned my head back on the seat, closing my eyes and moaning softly. I heard Archer's breath hitch in his throat.