Stripped Love (Guys Next Door Book 1)

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Stripped Love (Guys Next Door Book 1) Page 10

by Baylin Crow


  It was still early in the morning, hours before the sun would rise, but I didn't know what time Isaac would wake up. I didn't think letting the man who permanently inked my body find out about me and Arch by walking in on us sleeping naked together was a good idea. I needed to check the time.

  Without my phone, I scanned the room for a clock but instead found a stack of notebooks neatly placed on the corner of the desk next to the bed. Curious and trying not to jostle Archer awake, I slowly worked my way up to sitting. I reached out and grabbed the one from the top.

  The cover was matte black and the blank pages were lined, unlike the books Archer drew in. I grabbed the next notebook that also sat unused so I replaced it, keeping the black one.

  A single pencil rested on the desk, just out of reach. With careful movements, I scooted the few inches I needed and snagged the eraser with my fingertips before pulling it across the surface. Prize in hand, I settled back in my place.

  Archer mumbled something indiscernible before throwing his leg over my thighs. I chuckled softly, and a light snore escaped him as he buried his face against my side. "Phoenix," Archer whispered and then sighed in his sleep.

  My lips tipped in a small smile as I watched him get comfortable.

  Once I was sure he slept soundly again, I flipped the notebook open, folding the cover to the back so I could hold it easier without disturbing him.

  I stared at the blank page before bringing my pencil to the sheet.

  ‘Stripped bare for you,

  I offer this confession.

  Treading muddy waters,

  I was in search of my reflection.

  Lost in memories of my path—

  How I'd lost my direction.

  Then there was you,

  My unexpected muse.’

  P.S. I didn't want to wake you but I had to head out. If Isaac finds me in your room, it's possible he'll sneak a dick and balls into my next tattoo. I do think we should tell him though, because I don't want to sneak around. Not with you. Not ever.

  Extracting myself was difficult when he'd all but pinned me to the bed, but I worked my way free and left the notebook open on his desk. Leaning down, I kissed the tip of his nose that immediately scrunched at the contact.

  I gathered my clothes from the floor and quietly dressed. With one last lingering glance at his sleeping form, I silently slipped through the sliding glass door and climbed back down the way I'd come.

  Running late because I'd slept past my alarm, I rushed through a shower, dressed, grabbed my things and shoved my shoes on by the front door.

  I squinted as the midday sun blazed bright in the sky. It was scalding hot outside and the humidity sat thick in the air as I locked the door behind me.

  On a mission to find some fucking air conditioning, I strode toward my car.

  I tossed a small bag full of new uniforms I intended to wear tonight into the cramped backseat and then ducked into the driver’s seat.

  The leather seats had baked in the sun, and the heat seeped through the random pair of jeans I'd thrown on. Cursing, I cranked the AC on full blast, slinging out expletives at the immediate punch of hot air that blew through the vents.

  The time showed me I was already ten minutes late, and I still had a fifteen-minute drive to the club. I grabbed my phone and shot Desi a quick text that I was on my way.

  Just as I shifted into reverse, movement next door caught my eye. Isaac was marching across the lawn, holding up a hand to stop me.

  Tension squared my shoulders, and I braced for the inevitable blow as I shifted back to park. The timing and rigid posture with which he carried himself screamed busted. I hoped I was wrong.

  He approached my car and gestured for me to lower the window. Once it was down, I adopted a neutral expression. "Hey, what's up?"

  His brows rose, and he smirked as he dipped down, bracing his forearms on the window

  "Well, I was hopin' you could tell me." He frowned. "The oddest thing happened last night."

  Alarm bells sounded in my head, and my gaze shot toward his house. "Where's Arch? Everything okay?"

  He chuckled. "Cool your tits, kiddo. Archer is fine."

  Relaxing, I realized if he hadn't already known, I'd just given myself away. I blew out a deep breath and sagged back into the seat. "Let's hear it then."

  He nodded stiffly. "All right, I'll just be blunt." He cocked his head and studied me with dark brown eyes so similar to Archer’s. "Nix, I saw you climb the fence to Archer's balcony last night."

  His tone was calm, and an unasked question was written in his expression.

  "Isaac, I don't know what to tell you except that I like him." I waited as he considered a response.

  He cleared his throat. "I expected as much. Archer is…hard not to love. But the kid hasn't had it easy, and I know you haven't either."

  Many hours spent under his needle had loosened my lips, and while Isaac didn't know everything about me, he knew the only family member I'd ever had was gone.

  Archer hadn't shared his story with me yet, and it felt wrong to ask Isaac to spill, but I couldn't leave the conversation on that note. My thoughts were jumping to awful conclusions.

  Isaac clearly had something he felt he needed to share with me, and I'd have to come clean to Archer about asking and hope he didn't get upset.

  Preparing for the worst, I asked, "What do you mean he hasn't had it easy? Did someone hurt him?"

  "Not in the way you're probably thinking." He lowered his eyes to where he tapped the window. "What do you know about his mom and dad?" The last word was twisted with disdain.

  "He hasn't told me anything," I admitted and that truth stung a bit. But I'd only opened up to him last night and hadn't really given him the opportunity to reciprocate.

  "There's no telling if he even would. And that's why I'm here." He shifted as though he was uncomfortable. "He doesn't talk about his biological father much."

  Being late to work completely pushed down my list of worries, I gave Isaac my full attention. "Just tell me."

  His eyes lifted to the sky before meeting mine. "Archer's dad ran out on his mom and him when he was three." His tone was laced with anger, and he shook his head. "Broke that boy's heart because he thought that bastard hung the moon…and for a time, he looked at Archer the same way." Isaac cleared his throat and blinked hard. "I doubt Archer remembers much of him, and thank fuck for that. I think it'd be harder if he did."

  Even with the circumstances different, I understood not missing what you never knew. The link I felt between Archer and me strengthened.

  Isaac scowled and ran his hand through his salt and pepper hair. "But you know how the story goes. His dad met a younger woman, in his case, an eighteen-year-old. Traded my sister and Archer for the new model and wanted nothing more to do with him."

  "Asshole," I muttered, while thinking it was the douchebag's loss. And while I'd never wish a shitty parent on anyone, I wasn't sure our paths would have otherwise crossed.

  "Damn right he was," he agreed. "But my sister raised him on her own, and she did well as a single mother despite her financial struggles." He hesitated. "That's why I don't understand her now. They were happy."

  My phone chimed with an incoming text I ignored. "What do you mean?"

  "Archer grew up 'round these parts, but she met Nolan when she was a waitress. Typical. Asshole comes in throwin' his cash around, treatin' her right, but treatin' Archer as if he was some sort of pesky tagalong." His accent grew thicker as he worked himself up. "There was a time she'd have done anything for my nephew, but money changed her to the point I didn’t recognize her anymore. It was clear Nolan—Archer's stepdad—wanted nothing to do with him, and she stayed with that cunt. She took him from me and moved them down to some fancy part of Florida. And Archer—he was miserable. Only good thing they ever did for him was send him back this way for college."

  His jaw clenched, and I had trouble schooling my features as an image of Archer as a child, well aware he
wasn't wanted, filled my thoughts. Isaac was right. I wasn't sure Archer would have told me everything. Not because he didn't want to, but because Isaac had a different perspective and Archer likely didn’t have the real memories since he’d been so young. Sometimes an image was clearer on the outside looking in.

  We grew silent as the dust settled over their history. "Isaac…I promise—"

  "Don't you go making promises you can't keep, Nix. That boy deserves the world, and I'm not sure what's going on between you two…but now you know what he's been through. Either walk away now or do your damnedest not to add to that hurt. Promises are useless."

  Despite the edge in his tone, his eyes implored me to understand why he was doing this. "You're protective of him."

  He grunted. "Like you wouldn't believe."

  I nodded. "I have no interest in hurting him."

  Isaac hummed as he stood upright. "I'm beginning to believe you." His gaze switched somewhere over the car, avoiding my eyes as he blinked rapidly. "You could be good for him, you know. Hell, you two could be good for each other."

  What I knew for certain was that Archer had been good for me. I just hoped I had enough to offer him in return.

  "Now, with all that said”—he continued—“I'm not telling you to run my nephew down to city hall and shackle yourself to him. He makes his own decisions…just, if you were only messin' around, I wanted you to know that if you hurt him…" He gave me a meaningful look.

  "Understood. Archer is lucky to have you."

  He blew out a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "See, now that's where you're wrong. I'm lucky to have him." He stood up straight. "Well, that's all I had to say, so I won't hold you up anymore."

  "I'm glad you told me what you did." He looked like he'd been through the wringer now that he'd completely unloaded the baggage of Archer’s history.

  He waved me off but then paused. "There is one thing I'd like you to work on with him."

  My brow shot up in surprise and, to be honest, a little anger.

  "Wow, calm down." He chuckled. "And anyway, now that I know you're with my nephew, I'm pretty sure this is your doing."

  "Spit it out, old man." I smirked and he scowled.

  "Asshole." But then his lips twitched. "Archer has decided to start telling jokes." His brow dipped. "Any chance you can teach him the art of delivering a punchline? It's hard to tell when he's joking, and it scares me sometimes."

  "Looking good, Nix," Damon said as he entered the dressing room and scoped out the realistic doctor's uniform—everything but the unnoticeable rip away pattern down the pant legs—I'd be debuting in about fifteen minutes.

  I stood at my locker, adding the stethoscope to complete the look. "Think they'll like it?" I asked, meaning the Friday night mob packing the floor.

  "I'm sure it'll at least earn some pocket change." He smirked as he continued past me.

  "Pocket change, my ass. I'm about to drain their fucking wallets," I called out to him, and he flipped me off.

  I laughed but the amusement quickly faded.

  Desi had been pissed when I'd finally shown up an hour late. Still caught in a web of thoughts about Archer, I hadn't remembered to check my unread text either which turned out to be from her, wondering where I was.

  She'd excused me from my first set. Or rather punished me with it, knowing that was how I made the most money other than the VIP rooms.

  I'd worked the floor for an hour, and the entire time, I'd struggled to stay focused. Archer was likely at work already, and all I could think about were the hands that broke the rules, copping feels where I only wanted Archer's hands.

  He didn't like my job. And my feelings about it were tanking along with his. It wasn't only the fact that Archer's happiness was quickly scaling my list of priorities—the draw toward writing songs grew stronger every day.

  Leaving him that little nibble of the words that threaded together in my head had broken an invisible seal, and now the lid no longer fit.

  But songwriting didn't pay the bills. I didn't have a college degree, and my resume was less than impressive. My prospects seemed limited to fast food or retail. And unless minimum wage had doubled, I couldn't afford it.

  Just as I went to close my locker, a text alert chimed and I reached for my phone, smiling when Archer's name popped on the screen.

  Arch: I keep rereading the note you left.

  I grinned as I tapped on the screen.

  Me: Yeah? What do you think?

  His response was immediate.

  Arch: I think I want to see more of that incredible talent. See you after work?

  Me: That's a given. But which talent are we talking about? The song…my tongue…my cock. I can show you all three if you want.

  Arch: Dylan tried to steal my phone. That would have been awkward. In answer to your question, if all three are on the menu, I'd like to super-size that.

  I laughed as I responded, thinking about Isaac's comment about Archer's jokes. I thought he was fucking adorkably funny.

  Me: someone's greedy.

  Arch: No takebacks.

  Me: I HAVE created a monster.

  Arch: Caleb and CJ invited me to a party at their house tomorrow. Isaac said I could take off if you wanted to go?

  Me: Topic shift whiplash.

  Arch: Sorry, that's what I was texting you about in the first place but got sidetracked by…the menu.

  My lips curled into a grin as my chest shook with laughter.

  Me: I'm supposed to work, but I'll see what I can do. Let you know tonight.

  "Nix, get off your phone and get your ass moving! You're up." Desi's voice came from behind me, and my mood soured. I shifted to face her. Wearing a red dress and her hair tied up in a ponytail, her heels clacked against the floor as she tore a path toward me. She placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. "While I have you, Dominic’s birthday is in two weeks. We're closing the club that Friday night and throwing a big party for him."

  Not giving two shits if it was the owner's birthday, I focused on the more important issue. Money would be tight if I took off tomorrow to be with Archer and lost another shift on a Friday night in the same month. "So, we have that night off?"

  "No, you'll still work, but the club won't be open to the public," she explained and hurried on since I should have been heading toward the stage. "It'll be a black-tie event and require an invitation. I'm telling you now so you can prepare. I only want your best costumes. You'll need to be perfectly groomed, not that it's ever been an issue, but everyone's getting the same rundown. This event is mandatory for all dancers."

  "Understood," I agreed and she gave me a tight grin. When she turned to leave, I called out to her, and she paused with raised brows. "I know it's last minute, but I need tomorrow off."

  Hands on her hips, she shook her head. "We've been reaching max capacity every weekend for months. We really need you here, Nix."

  "Desi, I never take off. I seriously need this one night."

  She huffed and glanced at her watch. "Your set starts in exactly one minute."

  "I'm on my way now, but I need tomorrow off. I'm serious."

  "Fine." She threw her hands up in exasperation. "I'll see who can cover for you, but if you're not on that stage in thirty seconds, we'll need to find someone to replace you."

  "Thanks," I gritted out, barely smothering the urge to point out a fact that we both knew. I was her best dancer.

  The tight smile made a reappearance before she leveled me with an expectant look. I tossed my phone into my locker and slammed it shut before jogging toward the stage just as my song started playing.

  I missed my entrance, but judging by the wild roar that filled the room as I spun around and pulled my doctor's coat off, no one gave a shit.

  10

  Archer

  With their parents’ blessing, CJ and Caleb had once again turned their house into a party pad for the weekend. Something I couldn't imagine. Neither my mom nor my stepdad would’ve e
ver approved. Not that I’d know how to throw a party even if I wanted to.

  Phoenix sat behind the wheel as we coasted along the highway with our windows down and radio blasting rock music, full of angst, from what I learned was one of his favorite bands, Breaking Benjamin.

  Dark clouds, heavy with the scent of an impending storm, masked the last of the sunset, leaving the sky a dark purple. The highway was lit with bright billboards and streetlights as Phoenix smoothly wove through traffic as we headed toward the suburbs at the outskirts of the city. Tall buildings gave way to residential neighborhoods, and four lanes narrowed to two.

  "This exit?" he asked as he turned the volume down.

  "Yeah, exit here and take a right at the light." I couldn't help but stare at him.

  His heavily adorned long fingers wrapped around the wheel, and the other hand shifted gears. The wind hadn't disturbed his short hair, but mine kept whipping against my face. His lips moved with the lyrics as he mouthed the words, and my thoughts naturally drifted to two nights before and the effortless way he'd owned my body.

  My dick responded to the memory, and I fought not to adjust myself. Still, I squirmed, and he cast me a quick look, eyes sparkling as they dipped to my mouth.

  He pulled up to the red light and grabbed the front of my shirt. With a quick tug, I was halfway over the center console where he met me with a hard kiss.

  "Keep looking at me that way and we'll never make it to your friends' party." His words against my lips lit a spark of need through my body.

  "Well, that might not be the worst thing," I offered as my lips tingled in response.

  A slow smile spread across his face as he settled back in the seat. "You're trouble."

  The light turned green, and I gave him directions to the house while grinning to myself. No one had ever thought of me as trouble—the opposite in fact. And I liked the way it sounded laced in Phoenix's raspy tone. The way he rolled the word as if he could taste it and wanted it.

 

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