Page 24 of Archer
When the rattling of the stool against the floor sounded, followed by her sitting down, I pursed my lips and mentally cussed again. Why couldn’t she be this friendly earlier in the week?
I heard the sound of a light bang, and once again, I sat up a bit to see what she was doing. Her forehead was resting on the breakfast island, the sound evidently from her knocking her head against it. Next, she gave a muffled groan. “When I woke up from my nap, the first thing I thought of was how mortifying this morning was.”
Are you fucking serious?I had to be getting tested, either by her or some higher power. Leaning back down, I said, “We really don’t need to talk about it…”
“I know,” she said.Yes, she’ll stop.“I just feel cursed or something. I mean, the first time I ever try, you know. Well,thathappened. I’m doomed.”
I shot up, not even trying to be aloof. “Your first time even doing—?” I stopped myself wincing at my insensitive reaction. “Sorry. No, that’s not what I meant. That’s… completely… normal.”
“No. No, it isn’t,” she said, still with her head on the table.
“It is… surprising. But again, nothing wrong with it.”
“Thanks,” she said and raised her head for the first time to catch me with my lips still parted open, then snapped shut, opening it again as I tried to phrase my next words. “All right, what’s on your mind, Archer?”
“Nothing.”
“What if I told you I promise I wouldn’t get mad?”
“Then I’d tell you, from personal experience, that empty promises are bad.”
“No, no, I’m serious,” she said, peering at me through her sleepy, but pretty, eyes. “I think we’re past the point of small talk, And, well, maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing to gain a thicker skin. I’ve never really talked about this stuff with… anyone.” She shrugged her shoulders and her nonchalance kind of freaked me out. “Let’s hear it.”
“Are you still drunk?” I asked. “’Cause that’s kind of normal. It’s still early in the day, maybe we should talk about this later…”
“Just tell me whatever you’re afraid to say.”
“Fine.” I said and dragged my eyes from hers to my Harley calendar hanging beside the front door. I swallowed. “You’ve probably never had an orgasm, have you?”
“Umm… I don’t think so…”
“All right.” I inhaled deep, messing up the back of my hair, and looked up at the ceiling when I answered her. “I’m just saying, it’d probably help you, uh….unwinda bit if you, well, you had an orgasm once in a while. Does wonders for stress relief.”
She pulled her lips to the side, tilting her neck, doubt written all over her face. “And how am I supposed to do that without a boyfriend?”
“By… doing exactly what you were doing this morning?” I said like it was a question because the answer seemed so obvious, she caught me off guard.
“Yeah, but it’s not like it’s going to feel that good if you do it by yourself,” she said, full of confidence.
“I mean, yeah, with another person is obviously ideal,” I said. “But you do know that there’s like, an entire industry designed to make it better for yourself, right?”
“That stuff is all kind of freaky though…”
“Yeah, there’s some interesting gadgets out there, these days,” I said with a laugh. “But whatever, not like you need any toys. Hands are good enough.”
“It didn’t feelthatgood today.”
I shrugged. “Maybe you didn’t know what you were doing.”
“Please,” she said, and I rested my arm on the back of the sofa, interested in hearing her response. “Like you’re some sort of expert on making girls orgasm.”
“Expert? Hmm, well, I don’t wanna pump myself up too much,” I said, brushing imaginary dust off my shoulders. “But let’s just say, I’ve got plenty of experience getting women off.”
“I read somewhere that most women fake it…”
Tilting my head, I blinked at her slowly a few times before saying, “I’m so confident in this argument, I’m not even going to bother arguing it.”
“Yeah?” she said, egging me on, and I had never been more confused by her shift in openness. “What makes you so sure, huh?”
