Page 20 of Shots Fired

Kendra: If I’m correct, well, it’s potentially all kinds of awkward. And if I’m wrong … let’s just say, it’s still awkward because I’ll have put my foot in my mouth. But you’re my family and friend, and I feel like I should be honest.

My mind races away from me, causing my fingers to slip on the keyboard as I type out a response.

Me: Okay, freaking out right now …

Kendra: I’m pretty sure it’s from Archer.

Me: A three-thousand-dollar designer bag?!

The second I hit Send, I think over her suggestion. He did give me his Amex that time. Sure, he was wasted, but he told me to go buy whatever I wanted with it.

Kendra: Girl, he earns more than Jack as center and assistant captain. Last season, he signed a record-breaking contract with the Blades. He’s one of the best in the league, and he’s been there for seven seasons. He can afford it, trust me.

Me: I guess it’s feasible. But why?

Kendra: You are Mensa-level genius. Are you seriously asking me this question right now?

Me: I’m also scatterbrained. Intellectual intelligence does not necessarily translate into equal levels of common sense.

Kendra: True. I’ll never forget the time you found your car keys in the fridge.

Me: See? Case in point.

Kendra: He wants you. Plain and simple.

Me: Wants to fuck? I mean, that’s hardly surprising. He wants to fuck a lot of girls, and blondes are his type. But we both know he wouldn’t go there. Not with the potential ramifications he’d face. You know what I’m referring to …

Kendra: Yes, I can’t argue with you on that. I’m just saying, I think this bag is from him. I also think he’s struggling to keep ahold of himself, and I wouldn’t be surprised if this is an indication of his wavering willpower.

More memories of the way he looked at me in the cocktail bar resurface, but I’m still doubtful and confused over Kendra’s suggestion that the bag might be from Archer. He was drunk when he gave me the credit card. Sober Archer would definitely know the limits with his teammate’s baby sister.

Right?

I’m tempted to tell Kendra about my conversation with Archer, but more doubt stops me. I’ve likely misinterpreted all the signals from that night. He probably was being a concerned friend, and it’s just me getting ahead of myself because I find the guy hot and intriguing, and that revelation has knocked what I thought I knew about him off course.

Me: Can you stop talking in riddles, please?

Kendra: Listen, I can’t say it’d be more than sex with him because I don’t know, and to be honest, I can’t blame Jack for being worried. Archer Moore would tear through the New York volleyball team given half a chance. I think the guy wants what he can’t have, and he isn’t used to that. Obviously. Just proceed with caution …

Me: You think he bought me a bag to convince me to sleep with him?!

Kendra: No, not exactly. He clearly likes you, and he has money to burn. Ugh, I don’t know. I could be way off the mark with this. Forget I said anything. I’m not trying to paint him in a bad light; I’m just trying to be a friend and counsel you to keep your head on. I wouldn’t put it past him to make a move.

Me: I have zero idea what to do with that information. Or this bag for that matter.

Kendra: Accept the gift and maybe ask him about it this Saturday.

Me: He’s coming to the party?

Kendra: Of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be?

Me: I don’t know. I figured he’d have better things to do than celebrate me randomly turning twenty-four and blowing out a few candles on a cake.

Kendra: I refer you to our above conversation.

CHAPTER SEVEN

ARCHER

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