One True Thing (7 page)

products. I also wasn’t going to say no.

“Sounds great.” I knew I must’ve been

standing there with the dopiest grin on my face by

the way Rue was looking at me, but I couldn’t help

myself. “Nine thirty.”

I could hear Archer’s smile in his response.

“See you then.”

The next half hour passed in a mad rush. I

asked Rue to help me find something to wear that

wasn’t the usual black on black, self-imposed

uniform I wore while I was at the salon, then

darted off to the bathroom for the quickest shower

in Dusty Davis history. I was amazed to find

myself clean, dry, and fully dressed in only ten

minutes.

Rue had chosen a pair of my tightest jeans and

a clingy V-neck tee in navy blue. As much as I

loved pink and frilly for Alice, my wardrobe was

made up almost entirely of dark colors. Maybe that

meant I’d never really outgrown my goth phase

from high school, but I liked the way they looked

on me. Usually the brighter stuff could only be

found in my accessories, especially my handbags.

With those it was the flashier the better, the proof

of which could be found in my prized possession

—a lime-green Coach tote bag I’d scrimped and

saved for months to purchase.

I took another ten minutes to deal with my

hair, cringing at the hint of dark brown that had

appeared at my roots. It would need to be touched-

up soon, but I didn’t have time to worry about it

right then. I arranged it into its usual artistic

disarray of soft spikes and side-swept bangs, put

on a little eyeliner and a light coat of mascara,

finished it all off with a bit of clear lip gloss, and

called it good.

“Hey, hot stuff.” Rue grinned at me teasingly

from the doorway of my bedroom. “Want me to

drop you off? You can catch a cab back.” He

paused and gave me a suggestive eyebrow waggle.

With his skin bare of makeup and his bangs held

away from his forehead by a rainbow headband, he

looked years younger than his actual age. “
If

you’re coming home tonight, that is.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Of course I’ll be

home.” I’d slipped on occasion, but I wasn’t

usually a sex-on-the-first-date kind of guy. Casual

hookups were easy to find. I wanted something

lasting. “But I will take you up on that ride.”

REILLY’S turned out to be a smallish video bar

staffed entirely by hot, shirtless men. The

bartender, who was sleek, muscled, and had skin

the color of fine, dark cocoa, winked at me and

flashed a white-toothed grin as he handed me my

second appletini (extra cherries) of the night.

I was sitting alone at one end of the bar. Nine

thirty had come and gone, and ten o’clock was

rapidly approaching. I felt a little embarrassed, as

if it were somehow obvious to everyone that I was

there waiting for a date who hadn’t shown, but I’d

decided to give Archer until the end of the hour

before I left. He might have gotten held up by

something, after all. Seemed only fair to give him a

bit of extra time.

Ten came around, then 10:05. No calls or

messages. I sighed and dug into my pocket for my

cash. I hadn’t brought anything else with me aside

from my phone and shiny, new California ID. I

probably could have gone up to one of the guys

who’d approached me earlier, some offering a

dance, others a heck of a lot more, but while I

could admit to being somewhat—okay, maybe it

was more like
majorly
—bummed by Archer’s no-

show, I wasn’t about to let that disappointment

spur me into doing something I knew I’d regret the

instant it was over.

I laid a couple of bills on the counter, just as

a tip since I’d been paying for my drinks as they

came, slid off my stool, and turned to go home,

ready to drown myself in mango sorbet and spend

another lonely night with nothing to cuddle but my

pillow.

Of course, that was the moment Archer

walked in. Something stalled and then surged

through me as he approached—excitement, relief, I

wasn’t sure which. All I knew was my eyes

weren’t the only ones that followed him as he

crossed the room, but he came directly to me and

grabbed my left hand, lifting it to his mouth to

brush a kiss across the knuckles.

“Hope you weren’t waiting too long,” he

said, nothing but charm and a rueful smile. “I was

in LA and had trouble getting a cab, and then

traffic was a bitch. I know I probably should’ve

called. What can I do to make it up to you?”

If we’d been in a 1940s film, something

black-and-white and melodramatic, I might have

flung my arms around his neck and said, “Take me

to bed.” As it was, I playfully shoved him back

and hoped he couldn’t tell just how relieved I was

to have him there. The tight ball of icy tension that

had built in my stomach while I’d waited for him

had already started to melt. “You can buy me a

drink, and maybe if you’re nice enough, when we

leave, I’ll let you kiss me.”

Archer’s apologetic smile transformed into a

naughty grin. “I can be
very
nice.”

My heart skipped at the expression on his

face. God, he really was stunning. I hadn’t been

able to think of a word that would be a better fit.

“Let’s go grab that booth in the corner.”

Archer took hold of my hand again and pulled me

along behind him. Once we’d settled at our table,

he flagged down a waiter, and we ordered our

drinks. As soon as the guy left, Archer sat back and

looked at me with his full lips turned up in a little

half smile. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but it made

my belly heat. “You are gorgeous,” he said,

enunciating every word, his eyes focused on my

mouth. “I love lip piercings.” He made a regretful

sound. “The nose, on the other hand….”

I blinked at him, startled. My nose? Did he

mean he didn’t like
it
, or was he talking about the

horseshoe ring in my septum? I managed to stop

myself from self-consciously lifting a hand to

cover it, but I was hyperaware of his gaze

lingering there for a second before moving up to

mine.

He shrugged lightly. “No offense. I’ve just

never been a fan. I think you’d be hotter if you took

it out.”

“Oh,” I said. I wasn’t sure what else to say.

I’d had my septum pierced since high school, and

no one had ever complained, not even my ex, Gary,

who’d criticized me for just about everything else.

I was so used to it being there, I hardly noticed it

most of the time.

“I’m just saying—” Archer reached out and

drew a long finger along the back of my hand. “—

it takes away from how hot you are. You’re sexy

now. You’d be even sexier without it.”

I nodded and smiled a little. So he wasn’t a

fan of the piercing, but he thought I was hot. Sexy,

he’d said. It’d be simple enough to take the ring out

before we went on our next date, and it was

nowhere near as bad as some of the things Gary

had demanded from me. If there
was
another date,

that is. I wasn’t going to let myself assume

anything.

“You hungry?” he asked. “I’m starved. Let’s

get an appetizer.”

IN SPITE of the food, I was feeling decidedly tipsy

after another two appletinis. For a second I’d

hesitated to mention the fact that I didn’t like meat,

but Archer hadn’t seemed to mind. We’d split

some bruschetta and a tray of pita chips with

hummus, talking easily, and when he suggested we

get out of there and go somewhere quieter, I didn’t

hesitate to say yes. He paid our bill, and we left.

I liked that he curled an arm around my waist

and pulled me into his side as we walked. He had

several inches on me, and he was broader too, but

he didn’t tower like Gary had. He made me feel

small, but not in a bad way. In the same way that

Erik did, as if I were something to be protected.

Maybe it was girly of me to want that feeling, but I

did. It was one of the things I loved most about

Erik. He wasn’t some big, tough guy, but he made

me feel safe.

I knew it was after midnight on a weekday,

but I didn’t want the date to end. Archer hadn’t

mentioned whether or not he had to work in the

morning, but my shift didn’t start until one. I

would’ve been more than happy to hang out in a

diner for another hour or two, chitchatting over

coffee. I figured that was what Archer wanted too

and didn’t resist when he pulled me into the

shadowy entryway of one of the businesses we

were passing and crowded me back against the

door.

He crushed his lips to mine, and I melted into

it without a thought. I’d been wanting it since the

first day I’d seen him, hadn’t I? I didn’t see any

point in resisting, and even if it wasn’t as electric

and explosive as I’d hoped it would be, it was still

nice. Maybe even more than nice. His lips were as

soft as I’d imagined, and, Lord, did he know how

to kiss. But next thing I knew, the slow, deep

kisses had turned to him sucking on my neck, and

the fingers that had been digging sexily into my

hips were suddenly yanking at the zipper to my

jeans.

“Hey,” I said, trying to pull back a little.

“Hey, we’re in public, remember?”

Archer groaned against my throat and kept

working at my fly. “I’ve been nice.”

I reached down to still his hands. “You have

been, and I’ve had a great time, but I… I don’t

want to ruin it, okay? Let’s just go get some

coffee.”

Archer lifted his head, looking puzzled. “I

don’t get it. I mean, what’s the problem? I want

you. I can tell you want me. What’ll be ruined if

we fuck?”

I felt my cheeks warm under his gaze. God,

the way he was looking at me, like I was some girl

who wouldn’t put out on prom night when he’d

shelled out the cash for the tux and a limo. Was it

really that uncommon for a guy to want to wait?

“Look,” I said carefully. “I like you. But I

don’t really do hookups, okay? I loved kissing you.

I could kiss you all night. Just… not the rest of it.

At least not right now.”

He stared at me for a few seconds, then

nodded slowly. “Okay.”

I threaded my fingers through his and pulled

him close for a quick kiss. “Wanna go find a

diner? Get some pancakes maybe?”

Archer cleared his throat and untangled his

hand from mine. “You know, maybe we should

call it a night, actually. I have to be at work by

nine.”

“Oh.” It was my turn to be confused. He’d

seemed plenty willing to stay out ten minutes

before. Why the sudden change of heart? But

then… ten minutes ago he hadn’t known the night

would end without him getting laid, had he? I hated

to think of him as that guy, but the playful,

lighthearted flirtation we’d had going all evening

had vanished in the last few moments, and I

couldn’t think of any other reason to explain why.

“Sure.”

He hailed me a cab and deposited me inside

with a brief hug and a murmured “I’ll call you.”

I had a feeling that meant I’d never hear from

him again.

Asher

I WAS standing in line for a latte a few weeks after

my last argument with Archer. It had been quiet for

a while, mostly because we rarely saw each other.

He’d been going to work, which I was more than

grateful for. I guessed the real story would be

getting rent out of him when the time came. I

wasn’t looking forward to that.

The line shuffled forward, and I glanced up to

see how far back I was before returning my

attention to my phone, where I’d been checking my

calendar. I had another solo shoot later in the

week. At least it was a guy who’d been referred to

me, instead of another little girl hoping to make big

bucks. I thought I might not feel as bad asking the