I pull back, jaw agape. “You didwhat?”
He winces, that rare flush of color spreading across his high cheekbones. “The night Sawyer and Collins got engaged … there was this dude you were flirting with in the bar we went to afterward.”
I shake my head, remembering clearly who he was and that I kissed him. Truthfully, I had every intention of heading back to his place, like he’d suggested. But when he went to the restroom, he never came back, and I assumed he’d changed his mind and tried not to take it personally. I think at that point, I concluded being a playgirl probably wasn’t suited for me.
“Wait …” I pause, slowly putting the pieces together. “You punched him in the restroom, didn’t you?”
Archer scratches at the back of his neck, a playful but pleading puppy-dog look in his eyes. Almost like he’s been caught chewing on something he shouldn’t.
“He was talking shit about you. I saw red and fucked up his jaw.” He winces again, gripping his steering wheel tightly. I can sense his anger even now, months after he hit him. “No onegets to look at my girl in the wrong way, never mind disrespect her. Iwas convinced I’d fucked up with you and the guy would leak it to the press. He didn’t, and I got away with it.”
Is it wrong that my thong just grew damp?
“You told Liam to take a hike too, didn’t you?” I ask, unsure if he did, but starting to suspect Liam’s disappearance might have to do with my spouse.
Archer’s eyes grow wide, a flash of panic shooting through them. “How do you know about that?”
I shrug a shoulder. “I didn’t, until you just admitted it. He dropped off the face of the earth, and that’s not like him. Normally, he likes to fuck with my head as much as possible.”
“He’s a fucking prick I want to pummel into the ground, but also kiss and thank him for letting you go, all at the same time. There was no way I was allowing him back into your—our lives.”
Like I do so frequently, I tip my head to one side, teasing him with a grin. “You’re really freaking intense, Thigh Boy. You know that, right?”
He returns the expression. Playboy Archer might be long gone, but something tells me his trademark cockiness will always remain.
I hope it does.
“I’m willing to bet that there is no one in this world—universe, in fact—that’s as down bad for their girls”—he rubs a thumb over my stomach—“as I am for mine.”
“If I drink another mimosa, I’m one hundred percent going to puke,” my friend announces.
I push the glass along the bar toward Collins. “I believe in you, babe. You’ve had two drinks all night. Plus, I’m intrigued what drunk Collins is like.”
“Same.” Sawyer approaches his fiancée from behind, setting a kiss on top of her head. “I want to know how much crazier you get when you let all your inhibitions drop.”
She rolls her eyes and picks up the glass, taking a tentative sip. I do the same with my soda, watching as Archer talks with a few of his teammates.
“Last birthday as a Mackenzie,” I breathe out around the rim of my glass.
She smiles, creases forming around the corners of her eyes. “Ezra picked out his suit last weekend; it matches his dad’s, apparently.”
“It does.” Sawyer kisses the top of her head, as infatuated with her as he was the first night he clapped eyes on his future wife. “I’m desperate for clues about the dress, but this one hereisn’t giving anything up. I don’t know how I’m supposed to hold out until July.”
Collins shifts out from underneath Sawyer, twisting her neck to look up at him. “I’m not wearing a dress—well, not a white one anyway.” She shivers and turns to look at me. “Can you see me in white? Seriously?”
Right now, all I can see is Archer’s face when the doors opened to the private room where we married and how incredible I felt, wearing something the total opposite of what I’d have gone for.
“I think you should—go white, that is. Play it a little dangerously.”
The second my hand smooths across her hip, shouting penetrates the loud music.
“What the fuck?!” Sawyer announces, already halfway across the room to join Archer as they both make a beeline for Tommy.
I slide my drink back onto the bar, Collins doing the same as we both scurry over to Jenna, who’s now all up in Tommy’s face.
“I’m sorry, but if you’re going to talk bullshit, then own it,” she bites out.
Tommy scoffs at her, his menacing brown eyes laser-focused on my friend.