Page 40 of Sunrise Arrows

“I will.”

“Good.”

Not entirely satisfied, Mikey gets close to Archer and threatens, “If anything happens to her, they willneverfind your body. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Sir,” he nods. “But we’re gonna have to talk about this whole ‘her not having a license or a phone of her own thing.’ I don’t like it and it’s gettin’ fixed.”

That seems to be the magic phrase for the duo because they both nod and step out of our way, reminding me, “You know the schedule; check in.”

“I will,” I quickly assure, all but running to Archer’s pickup, ready to escape before they change their minds and follow us.

Opening up the door and helping me in, Archer says, “I’ve missed you, but I’m happy you haven’t been alone. You bein’ by yourself in that condo at the resort used to keep me up at night worried somethin’ would happen to ya.”

I pull my hair out of the seatbelt as he reaches across to buckle me in and murmur, “I’m so sorry you got hurt,” swiping at a tear that unexpectedly falls from my eye.

He catches another with his thumb, gently caressing my cheek. He places a lingering kiss on my forehead and whispers, “No tears, baby. We’re here now; that’s all that matters.”

Grabbing his hand when he starts to retreat, I plead, “Fight for me, Superman. Fight for me. Chase me. Don’t ever let me go. No matter what anyone tells you, never let me go. Promise me you will and I’ll do the same.”

Archer’s brow pinches and I can see it in his eyes, he’s trying to figure out where the puzzle piece I accidentally dropped goes. Cupping his face to halt his train of thought, I kiss him as desperately as my words, taking my own turn to whimper as the emotion rushes out of me.

When we pull apart, he vows, “In ten years, I never once let go of you, Shortcake, and I never will,” sealing it with a much softer kiss before closing my door.

* * *

I sniffleagainst Archer’s chest as the green light fades out and the movie’s credits begin to roll. “I remember when you read meThe Great Gatsbyin bed that one night. You said it was your favorite book, one of the most romantic you’ve ever read.”

“And you called me crazy,” he laughs. “Told me it was heartbreaking and devastating because he did all he could to reunite with Daisy only for her to abandon him—for everyone but Nick to abandon him.”

“But you said that’s what made it romantic. That he loved one woman for his entire life. Devoted himself to her and the hope that they would one day be together again. That even after she leaves him, he still—” I hiccup, tears beginning to pour down my face.

“He still hopes and waits for her,” he murmurs, cupping my face and kissing my tears away. “His love never wavered. Even when she was with someone else, he loved her because she was it for him. It was always and only ever her.”

“I’m so sorry,” I cry, crawling into his lap. “I’m so sorry.”

His shirt is wet with my tears but he holds me close, letting me cry.

“There’s never been anyone but you, Tinsley,” he murmurs, combing his fingers through my hair. “It has always been you and it will always be you. No one else exists for me but you.” Gently tugging on my hair, he coaxes me out from the crook of his neck and says, “Dance with me,” leaving me no choice but to follow.

Archer helps me down from the truck where he had an air mattress covering the bed and walls of pillows lining the sides and back for the movie we watched after eating dinner while the sun set. He opens the driver side door and turns on his headlights, illuminating the field we’re in. A moment later, the haunting keys of a piano come from the truck’s speaker and he guides me in front of the lights, slowly spinning me in their shine before pulling me close.

We sway in a circle through the first verse of the song from the movie and he dips me back as the music grows and moves into the chorus. When it hits, he takes me in frame and sweeps me through the steps of a waltz. We repeat our steps through the bridge and when the chorus comes again, he twirls me out. As I come back in, he sweeps me up in his arms, my dress floating on the wind as he spins in a circle, my arms around his neck as I stare into his eyes.

The love I see reflecting back at me steals my breath, and I wonder how I’ve lived all these years without seeing it every day.

I never want to spend another minute without it. Without him.

When my feet come back to the ground, I tell him, “I want to show you something. Can I see your phone?”

He grabs it from the car, the music fading out before leaving us in the early summer night silence. I’m already rubbing at my tattoo when he hands it to me and he asks, “Are you cold?” nodding at how my arms are almost hugging myself.

I quickly drop my arms. “No, just a little nervous is all. No one knows about this outside of myself, Briar and Skylar, Mikey and John, and you—sort of since you were there when it started.”

I don’t bother to scroll through his music, instead searching specifically for my first album. When it comes up, I show it to him and ask, “Do you still have perfect recall?”

“For better or worse,” he confirms, coming behind me as we sit in the grass.

His legs bend along mine and his arms wrap around me, chin coming to rest on my shoulder, ready to listen intently to what I have to tell him.

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