The Best Mistake - Cookie O'Gorman Page 0,49

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.

“Just 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