The Best Mistake

by O'Gorman, Cookie

  “I thought you never smiled, and you choose a time like this,” I said. “Friends shouldn’t laugh at friends—especially when they’re admitting heartfelt truths.”

  “Sorry,” he said, “but it’s funny.”

  “What is?”

  “The fact that you’re so misinformed.”

  I went to protest, but before I could, Archer had his fingers in my hair, pulling me so close, I could feel each word on my lips as he said them.

  “Honor, can I be honest?” he said.

  I nodded, unable to speak.

  “I went along with the friends thing because that’s what you wanted. I’m absolutely willing to try no strings attached, if that’s what will make you happy.”

  He paused, shook his head.

  “But I want so much more from you than sex.”

  I forgot how to breathe.

  “I don’t want to scare you. I’m down for however fast or slow you want to take this. But that’s my truth. Are you good with that?”

  “Mm-hm,” I said.

  “Okay,” he said, dipping his head closer, “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  God yes, please.

  Archer’s lips had just touched mine, the barest brush of skin on skin—when the door to the room flew open.

  “Arch, we found more bacon. Is there any more syrup? We need—oh sorry. Didn’t know you were busy.”

  Pulling away from me an inch, his eyes closed, Archer said, “Yeah, Dex. There’s another bottle in the cabinet above the stove.”

  “Great,” the voice said. “Well, I’ll just put the meat on then…?”

  “Great,” Archer said back, but as the door closed, I saw his shoulders slump. “If I’m not down there in the next ten seconds, someone’s bound to start a fire. No one else cooks in the house.”

  “Better get going then,” I laughed, though the sound was a little breathless. Okay, more than a little.

  Archer looked at me a moment then stood. He had taken a step toward the door but turned back a second later, pressing his lips to my cheek.

  “Like I said, we’ll do this however you want. No strings attached.”

  “Sounds good,” I said.

  “We’ll continue this later.”

  I nodded and watched as Archer smiled for the second time that night. It was just as stunning as the first, but after everything that’d happened it packed an extra punch. So did knowing we’d be continuing this later—whatever this was.

  I shivered at the thought.

  A couple minutes later, I heard shouting and ended up shivering for a totally different reason.

  The party seemed to be at a standstill as I jogged down the stairs. Archer’s smile had disappeared as if it had never been. He was standing with his arms out, kind of like a crossing guard, except instead of directing traffic, Archer was trying to deescalate an obviously volatile situation.

  “Get out of my way,” some guy said, his expression and eyes angry as he looked past Archer. Following his gaze, I noticed Dex and Baylor, and uh-oh. They didn’t look any happier than he did.

  “Tell me exactly what happened first,” Archer said.

  “I don’t have to tell you nothing.”

  “Yeah, Tony, you do.” His voice hardened. “This is my house, my team, my rules. Unless you want to be escorted out, you better explain.”

  The guy, Tony, seemed to get even angrier if that was possible. I didn’t remember seeing him on the field, so he must’ve been a friend or fan. “I caught your brother all over my girl. That’s what happened.”

  “Is that true?” Archer asked, looking to his brothers.

  Baylor scoffed. “Hey, she kissed me.”

  “And you stood there doing nothing, huh? Yeah, right.” Tony pressed forward but ran into Archer’s still outstretched hand. He also seemed to have a girl who was holding him back; I assumed she was the girlfriend. Her face was bright red but if it was from embarrassment or guilt I couldn’t tell. Probably both. “I’m watching the game with my boys. I turn around for one second to get a beer, and when I go to the kitchen, he’s got his tongue down her throat.”

  “Again,” Baylor said, “technically, it was her tongue down my throat.”

  “Oh, you’re asking it for it, O’Brien.”

  Tony tried to get at him, but this time Dex stepped forward.

  “Put your hands on my brother again, and see what happens,” he said softly, the danger in his words unmistakable.

  Tony backed off a bit at that, but he wasn’t appeased. That much was clear by his next words.

  “So what, Archer? I got pissed and reacted. Your brother was making out with my girl. What was I supposed to do?”

  Archer shook his head. “You know there’s no fighting here.”

  “Me and the guys pulled them apart before any real damage was done,” Dex said.

  “Bay, you have anything to add?” Archer asked.

  “Listen, it wasn’t like she had a ring on her finger,” Baylor said. “How was I supposed to know she had a boyfriend on the premises? Then Tony here, comes in shouting, throwing his fists around. Of course, I’m going to defend myself.”

  Archer nodded, looking at first one then the other. “Sounds like a misunderstanding to me, one that got out of control. An apology could go a long way.”

  Tony didn’t look like he agreed, but Baylor nodded.

  “Hey man, I’m sorry,” he said, sounding sincere. “I honestly didn’t know she was with anyone. It won’t happen again.”

  Tony glanced back at his girlfriend, who averted her gaze, then to Archer and finally Baylor. His eyes still held that hard gleam. “You know what, Baylor,” he said, “you can take that apology, and shove it right up your ass.”

  Dex looked ready for a fight, but Tony held up his hands.

  “I’ll let myself out,” he said, shrugging off his girlfriend and walking out of the house. She followed a few steps behind. Once they were gone, the crowd kind of dispersed on its own, everyone going back to their own little corners as if nothing had happened. But I noticed the tension still lining Archer’s body.

  “Well,” Baylor said with a grin, “that was fun.”

  Archer stepped up to his brothers, looking them both over. “That,” he said, “was a crisis averted. Nothing fun about it. Are you guys okay?”

  Dex rolled his eyes, but Baylor just laughed. “Yeah, mama bear,” he said. “We’re good. Tony’s the one you should be concerned about with a girl like that.”

  “You’re welcome for pulling him off you by the way,” Dex muttered.

  Baylor shook his head. “Please. I could’ve handled that guy in my sleep.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “Where’s Chase?” Archer said suddenly. “I didn’t see him anywhere.”

  “He’s in the kitchen, trying to make the bacon.”

  “I better go see how it’s going.”

  Baylor patted him on his shoulder before walking off. “Everything’s good, Arch. You saved the day again. Now stop worrying.”

  I watched Archer nod then make his way to the kitchen, to check on Chase, no doubt. His frown was in place once more. I wished he could’ve taken Baylor’s advice, but I didn’t think it was a choice. The worrying. His love for his family was one of the things I liked best about him—though that number seemed to be growing daily.

  The thought scared me enough that I didn’t seek him out again.

  The next couple of days I was like a zombie. Even in British Lit, my favorite class, I wasn’t able to pay attention, the words the professor wrote swimming before me. In accounting, the numbers flitted in and out of my mind as if they had wings. Thoughts of Archer, his hands, his eyes, that smile, they’d pop up out of the blue when I was supposed to be concentrating on my studies, and just like that, my ability to apply myself went to mush.

  My mother had warned me about this. One of the only things she really had any authority on was men, and she’d told me this would happen.

  “Jus
t wait, Honor,” she’d said. It was a day she’d forgotten (yet again) to pick me up from elementary school, and I’d had to walk the three miles it took to get home. “When you find the man of your dreams, you’ll know what I’m talking about. Everything and everyone else will become a blur, and all you’ll see is him. When you’re in love, he becomes your whole world.”

  But I didn’t want that.

  It was one of the main reasons I was so afraid to let myself fall in the first place. Mom’s obsession with love—particularly love of men—had always flashed bright like a warning sign. The way she forgot to care for her family when she was with one, the way she didn’t care for herself when they left, I wanted no part of it. And what if that all-or-nothing mindset was hereditary? I’d never been with a guy, so I wouldn’t know.

  Charlie’s parents had basically raised me. It was one of the reasons we were so close, best friends who were more like sisters. Whenever I didn’t have lunch money, Charlie would share her food with me. When Mom locked me out and told me to go stay with a friend because she and her beau were expecting company, Charlie’s parents let us have an impromptu sleepover. There were a lot of those. When Mom forgot to get groceries or hadn’t left me money on the table so I could get them, Charlie was there with sandwiches and apple slices.

  Mom’s men never lasted more than a year or two, but after getting depressed for a couple weeks, she’d rally and find another who she claimed to be madly in love with. It happened like clockwork. I’d heard Charlie’s parents say once that she hadn’t always been like this. My father’s leaving, that was the thing that changed everything. Mom had been chasing true love ever since—and she hadn’t slowed down once to see if her kid was keeping up or falling behind.

  Anyway, I knew other people had it worse. My mother’s neglect didn’t stem from malice or hate, just indifference. And her obsession with love and being loved shouldn’t scare me. I wasn’t anything like her. Had never fallen in and out of love as easily. But I was her daughter. I’d seen first-hand all the damage love could do and had learned to always keep my guard up.

  But Archer seemed to be weakening that resolve every time we met.

  I wasn’t in love with him—not yet. Still, I could feel myself slipping. Every time my mind turned to him, I reminded myself that this wasn’t anything serious. We were friends, and he’d agreed (as a friend) to help me with my romantic experience.

  It was that simple.

  I groaned.

  But…if it was so simple, would I still be obsessing over the sweet kiss he’d delivered to my cheek after we were disturbed or the words he’d said before that?

  I want so much more from you than sex.

  What did that even mean?

  I want so much more from you than sex.

  Archer’s words played through my head over and over. For some reason, my knees got weak each time. But I had no idea what “more than sex” entailed. Hopefully, he’d explain it to me soon, and then I could stop thinking about it so much.

  Maybe it was my inexperience, I thought. Maybe after Archer and I spent some time together I’d get used to him. I’d become immune to his touches, the feel of his lips, all of these…feelings. A girl could only hope.

  It was Friday, and I was on my way to the baseball field, a bag thrown over my shoulder with clothes, a couple books, toothbrush, the necessities. The article I’d written on Daisy O’Brien had been an even bigger hit than the first.

  “They love her!” Walter had said to me earlier this morning in the newsroom. “I ran the article on the coach right after their big win. The Wolves fans devoured every word. You really got to the heart of Daisy O’Brien’s story, Honor. Well done!”

  I’d shrugged. “She’s a hard person not to like. Plus, she was really easy to talk to.”

  “Mothers are like that.”

  Not all of them, I thought.

  “So, when can we expect the next one?” Walter’s eyes were twinkling, his excitement clear. “The Howler has become a must-read. I can’t wait to see what you bring me about the brothers.”

  “Well…” I was stalling, but in truth, I’d already made my decision. “Coach O’Brien said I could travel with the team. If I wanted to.”

  “A generous offer. And?” Walter prompted.

  “Um, they have a couple of games this weekend. They’re away games, so I thought I’d go and try to get some of the interviews done then.”

  “Brilliant!”

  “I was actually hoping to get them done sooner rather than later. That way we can have all the articles ready to go.”

  Walter had nodded. “You’ve always been very diligent. Oh, I can’t wait to see what you write next.”

  I didn’t tell him that diligence had nothing to do with it. I wanted to get the interviews done quickly for the sake of my sanity. Another reason I might’ve been so hung up on Archer was this assignment. The articles loomed large in my mind. To keep the pace, we’d have to release one story a week or at least bi-weekly, so I needed to get on the ball.

  My plan was to start interviewing the O’Briens while on the bus. I didn’t get any sleep last night, spent a long time thinking and coming up with my plan of attack aka my interviewing strategy. But now I was prepared. It would be a long drive. I could at least get one or two done, I thought with a yawn. Then maybe I could take a much-needed nap.

  It was early, so the sun was still low in the sky as I approached the Wolves’ bus. There was the face of a wolf painted on one side with the words “Southern Baseball” etched underneath it. The bus itself was large, looming over a couple of smaller yellow buses parked beside it in a row. I could see some of the players just arriving. They dropped off their bags to be loaded underneath the vehicle and then boarded.

  My phone went off in my pocket, and I took a detour, walked between the yellow buses and answered.

  It was a text from Charlie.

  She said: Honor, remember to HAVE FUN! I want to hear everything as soon as you get home ;)

  I shook my head, typing back immediately.

  Me: What’s with the winky-face? It’s just an assignment.

  Charlie: Yeah okay…it’s not like you’ll be spending time w/Archer or anything…

  Me: Only if I’m asking him interview questions…

  Charlie: Aw, you’re no fun :(

  A beat passed, then another text came through.

  Charlie: If any hanky-panky goes on on that bus, I demand to know!!! You must tell me!

  I laughed.

  Me: I promise—but nothing’s going to happen.

  Charlie: I’d love to hear what Archer has to say about that.

  And she followed it up with another winky-face.

  Shaking my head, I opened my bag and dropped my phone in. I was just about to walk back out when a familiar voice said, “Need any help?”

  I jumped about a foot then looked to Archer, who was walking toward me between the buses.

  “No, I’m good,” I said breathlessly. “Where did you come from?”

  He shrugged. “I saw you walk back here when I drove up.”

  As he stopped about a foot away, I couldn’t help taking him in. There was a lot of shadow between the buses, but the light that did get in framed him perfectly. His hair was effortlessly styled, his eyes bright as they stared right back at me. For some reason his broad shoulders looked even more pronounced, his legs somehow more fit, and my eyes widened as I realized why.

  “Are you…wearing a suit?”

  Archer tipped his chin. “Mom likes us to dress up when we travel, says it shows respect for the other team.”

  My first thought was: God bless his mother.

  My second: Bless whoever made that suit because holy hotness. How were women supposed to function in the face of such unmistakable male beauty? The sleek black suit jacket, the crisp white button down, those fitted slacks, and the man who was wearing it all like a second skin. It was so unfair.

  I had to clear my throat. “Isn’t it uncomf
ortable? When you’re traveling, I mean?”

  “Not really,” he said, unbuttoning the blazer, pushing a hand into his pocket. “We can change on the bus if we want.”

  “Oh.” As much as I fought it, I couldn’t keep the disappointment out of my voice. “Are you going to change then?”

  “Probably just take off my jacket.”

  “Oh, that’s great.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  His eyes watched me the entire time as I struggled to find a coherent response. “You—you just look really nice. The suit…it looks good on you. That’s all.”

  “Good,” he repeated and took a step toward me. I took one back, matching him step for step, until I felt my shoulders rest against cool metal. “You think I look good?”

  I nodded. “You know you do.”

  If I was being honest, Archer looked more than good in that suit. He was every woman’s dream personified. Or maybe that was just me.

  “Now, I feel underdressed,” I said.

  His hand came up to my cheek. “No, you look perfect.”

  I raised my brows, trying to keep it light even though all I could think of were his fingers running along my skin. “You probably didn’t even notice what I’m wearing.”

  Without looking away, Archer said, “Dark blue sweater, red t-shirt that says, ‘All I do is read, read, read, no matter what,’ jeans that fit you like a glove, red sneakers.”

  My jaw dropped.

  “I notice you, Honor.”

  “You do?”

  He nodded, his eyes dropping to my lips. “How could I not?”

  If I wasn’t already melting, that turned me into a puddle, my heart stuttering behind my ribs. He could’ve asked me anything right then, and I think I would’ve said yes. Without any forethought, I leaned up onto my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his.

  Like Archer had said: How could I not?

  His lips were warm and soft, and if he was surprised, he didn’t show it.

  Archer’s hand cupped my face while his other hand went to my waist, his body pressing into mine. But I couldn’t seem to get close enough. My hands automatically went to his shoulders, feeling his muscles as they tightened, then moved up to his neck, playing with the hair at his nape. This seemed to set something off within him. In the next second, Archer’s hands had traveled down to my hips, gripped behind my thighs and lifted. On instinct, my legs wrapped around his waist. At this, he let out a purely masculine sound of approval.