Chapter Eighteen: Archer

Chapter Eighteen

Archer

I hang up the phone and rub my temples. I wasn’t expecting that. Not at fucking all. I’m still a little stunned. Raising my arms above my head, I stretch and roll my neck. I’m used to standing in the same position for hours and didn’t realize I’ve been sitting and hardly moved for the last hour and a half.

I go to the window, giving myself a moment to process everything, and look down at the city. I’m in Quinn’s kitchen, and the view is amazing. In my younger years, I would have loved to live here. I’d feel like a fucking baller up in this place, with its large white kitchen and lakefront view.

But now…now I’m questioning raising a child in a place like this. Not because I don’t think it’s fitting, but because I know how Quinn grew up in a small town, and how I watched them, an outsider looking in, and thought the Dawsons were fucking perfect.

I press one hand against the cool glass, staring at Lake Michigan until my vision goes blurry. Recalling everything I said in the last half hour, I don’t have any regrets, which is a first.

“I think that went well,” I tell Neville, crouching down to pet the fat orange cat. “Better than I expected.”

My eyes fall shut and I sit on the floor, leaning against the window. I’m tired and want to try to get a few hours of sleep before Quinn comes home from work. I need to catch up on my sleep for my own sake, but mostly, I want to go out and have fun with Quinn tonight before I have to leave and get back to work in the morning.

Physically, I’m worn the fuck out. Mentally, I’m even more exhausted, but it’s going to be damn hard to turn my brain off. My best bet is to jerk off in the shower and collapse into bed, dreaming of Quinn. If I’m really lucky, I’ll stay asleep until she gets home from work and she’ll wake me up with her lips around my cock.

With Quinn, I know it’s possible. She’s everything I could ever want, which is why the phone call that just ended is all the more important to me. I already turned down one job, and I’m having anxiety over it. What if I don’t get offered another? Or if the only other job I’m able to land is hours away?

I squeeze my eyes shut, thinking of Quinn’s pretty face. I can’t let myself fall into negative thinking. I got through med school and all of my residency with the belief I’d land my dream job.

And working at Rush Hospital is a dream.

I’d be in Chicago. With Quinn. We’d be able to live together. Raise Emma as a family. I’ll propose and eventually we’ll get married and have more babies. I meant it when I told Quinn I’d be happy to support her.

I went through years and years of schooling and surviving off shitty-ass food and little sleep to be able to save lives and help others. But I’m also going to really fucking enjoy the salary that comes along with it. Though truth be told, I know I’ll still work long hours even if I can become an attending and have my own residents to assign to weekends and holidays.

Yawning, I pick up Neville and go into the bedroom. Quinn’s pajamas are on the floor, and I smile, thinking of her slender body and ample breasts. They most definitely have gotten bigger, and I’m almost surprised at how turned on I am by her growing belly. Knowing that my baby is inside of her, that I knocked her up, is a strange turn on, one I’m not sure I should openly admit to anyone but Quinn or not.

The tip of my cock tingles and I climb into bed with the thought of Quinn’s tits on my mind. I pull the covers over me, smelling a mixture of Quinn’s perfume and her conditioner on the pillows. I press my face in and breathe deep.

And now I have a boner.

Closing my eyes, I reach down, pushing my hand down the front of my boxers. I take hold of my cock and pump it up and down once. Twice. I moan into the pillow, missing Quinn so bad it hurts.

I’m pathetic, aren’t I? I just saw her an hour ago and I’m already missing her to the point of jerking off to her memory. Though there’s something about Quinn that turns me into a horny teenager all over again. At least this time it’s legal.

I turn on my side, slowly rubbing my shaft. My eyes are shut, and I know once I come I’ll be able to pass out and get some decent sleep until Quinn gets off work. I press my face into my pillow, wishing Quinn was in bed with me.

And then my phone rings.

Blinking and sitting up, I hope it’s Quinn and I can get just a few seconds of sexy talk out of her so I can come. But it’s not Quinn. It’s my fucking mother. I squeeze my eyes shut and exhale heavily. My phone is still ringing, but I’m not in the right headspace to talk to my mother right now.

I catch it on the last ring, putting the call on speaker and laying back down.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Archie. Did I wake you?”

“I’m in bed, but no. Did you find him?”

“I didn’t, but the cops did.”

“Good.” Shit. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Or did I? “I mean, good he’s been found. How is he?”

“He’s high on something.”

“How’d he get caught?”

“He was with that friend he calls Cuddy. I don’t think that’s his real name.”

“Oliver Milstead,” I tell her. I went to school with his younger sister. One of seven, Oliver and his siblings fit the stereotype that comes to mind when you say ‘meth-heads.’ When Bobby started hanging with Oliver, shit hit the fan. I’d love to blame Oliver, say he got my brother hooked on drugs, but the disease was always inside Bobby. He’d been pushing on the door his whole life. Oliver simply gave him the key.

“Right. That man. He was cooking in his garage. Bobby was over at the house at the time.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Archer,” Mom scolds.

I pinch the bridge of my nose between my fingers. “Is he still in jail? Do you need bail money?”

“No, but thanks, honey. He’s out and is home resting. I’m looking up new rehab facilities, ones not in the area. One of Cuddy’s cousins was in the same place with Bobby and convinced him to leave.”

I grit my teeth, beyond irritated at how Mom acts like Bobby is the victim here, coerced into doing bad things against his will. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course, hun. How’s Quinn? You said you were in Chicago, right?”

“I am, and she’s good. She’s at work right now.”

“Have you two decided what you’re going to do about that? Work, I mean, after the baby is born.”

“Sort of. We’ve did decide that we’re going to move in together.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! But, uh, where are you moving?”

I close my eyes again. “I’m not sure. It depends on where I get a job. I just had a phone interview with someone from Rush. I’ll find out if they want me to come in for a real interview in a week or two.”

“Why do they have to take so long? They either want you, or they don’t, and they know that right away.”

I find myself smiling. “I wonder the same thing.”

“So you two want to stay in Chicago?”

“Yeah,” I say right away even though I haven’t talked at length about it with Quinn. “She likes her job here.”

“Chicago is nice. And you’re closer to us there than you are in Indy.”

“It is nice,” I say with a yawn.

“I don’t want to keep you, Archie. You sound tired. Get some rest, okay?”

“I will. Let me know if anything changes.”

“Okay, love you, hun.”

I hang up and lay back down, trying for half an hour to go to sleep. I can’t turn off my fucking brain, so I end up turning on the TV and watch two hours’ worth of TV before finally passing out.

*

Quinn’s lips press against mine, stirring me from sleep. I’m dreaming about her and have a hard time distinguishing between what is real and what’s a dream. It feels the same when we’re together.

“Morning, sunshine,” she whispers, and I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her close to me. She falls into bed, and I spoon my body around hers.

“I missed you,” I grumble, not ready to wake up just yet. It feels like I fell asleep only minutes ago.

“I missed you too.”

“What time is it?” I ask, face in her hair.

“Like two-thirty. Have you been asleep this whole time?”

“Not the whole time.” I’m not sure when I finally fell asleep, but it had to be around eleven. Or even noon. I’m taking years off my life being so tired all the time.

Quinn rolls over and rakes her fingers through my hair. “Go back to sleep.”

“We can go out.”

“Later. I’m tired too. And I think I felt Emma moving again.”

“I love you, Quinn,” I whisper, tipping my head up just enough to kiss her. And then I let my eyes fall shut again. Two hours later, I wake up, hot and sweaty. Quinn sleeps with a lot of blankets, and I don’t know how she doesn’t swelter in her sleep. I kick off the comforter and roll over, feeling relief from the ceiling fan above us, and close my eyes again.

Quinn rolls over, hand landing on my chest. “Archer?” she grumbles. “Are you awake?”

“Kind of,” I say, slitting my eyes open. “Are you?”

“No.”

Silently laughing, I take her hand and rub circles in her palm until we both fall back asleep, not waking until one of the cats jumps onto the nightstand and knocks Quinn’s water bottle over. I startle awake, and Quinn feebly swats at Luna. This must happen often.

“Rise and shine, babe,” I say to her with a smile.

“Morning,” she says back, rolling over and wrapping her arms around me. “I didn’t mean to sleep for so long.”

“You needed it.”

“So did you.”

“Yeah. It feels good to lay down and do nothing. I’m aware of how lame I am, so no need to point it out.”

Quinn laughs. “I sat in my comfy office chair all day and I still like to lay down and do nothing.”

“My mom called,” I start. “Bobby got arrested.”

Quinn opens her eyes and pushes up on her elbow. “Shit.”

“It’s okay. It’s a good thing, actually. He was with some loser who was cooking meth in his garage. It could have been a lot worse.”

“He’s okay?”

“For now.”

She runs her hands through her hair and sits up. I realize for the first time that she’s only wearing a camisole and white underwear. Whatever she has to say might be lost on me.

“I was thinking about what I said earlier, about how Bobby is family and you’ll always care and all that.”

“Yeah?” My eyes dart to her nipples.

“It’s okay to cut off toxic family members, and if you think Bobby is toxic, then I support you in cutting him off.”

“He’s more than toxic. He’s a festering pile of—” I stop, seeing Quinn’s face. “He’s still my brother, I know. And yes, I’ll be upset when the day comes and he finally kicks it. But only for my parents.”

Quinn’s frown deepens. “If that’s how you really feel, then okay.”

I sigh. “It’s not. I wish it was though.”

She nestles her head back against my chest. “I did tell you I like honest-Archer best.”

“I feel like an asshole when I’m honest about Bobby,” I admit. “I do care about him because he’s my brother, and he wasn’t always a piece of shit. I’ll be sad when he dies, but sometimes I wish it’d just happen already.” I’ve never spoken these words out loud before. I’ve barely let myself even think them. “Every time my phone rings I wonder if it’s the call. And if it’s not his death my mom’s calling about, then it’s something he did. He’s killing himself and there’s no way around that. But he’s going to take someone down with him too. Maybe it’s driving under the influence or selling laced weed to kids. All Bobby does is destroy, and waiting for the end is worse than going through the final never-ending chapter.”

“That makes sense,” Quinn says quietly. “Living with the fear of never knowing what’s going to happen would make me anxious.”

“In a perfect world, he’d recover. But the world isn’t perfect, and I know the odds of someone coming back from something like this.”

“It’s not impossible,” Quinn adds, tracing her fingers up and down my chest. She flattens her hand and slowly drags it down, fingertips slipping under the band on my boxers. “Instead of going out for dinner, I was thinking I could cook for you and then maybe we could go out for dessert.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Have you had The Cheesecake Factory cheesecake before?”

“I have not. I’m guessing it’s good?”

“It’s so good.” She pushes herself up, kissing me before getting out of bed. “Do you like chicken enchiladas?”

“There’s not much I don’t like. I’m easy like that.”

“You are easy, Dr. Jones. I got in your pants on our first date, remember?”

Laughing, I slap her ass as we get out of bed, catching her around the waist. I pull her in and kiss her neck, dreading leaving already. I go into the living room, cats following, while Quinn uses the bathroom. The cats won’t stop meowing, and I know enough now to know they’re expecting dinner at this time.

Going to the cabinet where Quinn keeps the cat food, I don’t see Quinn walking out of the bedroom. I close the cabinet and turn. The can of cat food slips from my fingers.

“Holy shit.” I blink, slowly running my eyes over Quinn. She’s wearing dark purple lingerie and she’s so right about her tits getting bigger. They’re close to spilling out of the thin lace.

A bit of color rushes to her cheeks, which only adds to the appeal. “I was going to wait until later to put this on, but you keep surprising me. I wanted to surprise you for a change.”

I take a few seconds to look her up and down again, memorizing every curve of her body. “This is a good surprise.”

Her shy smile turns coy, and she walks right past me, heels clicking on the hardwood floor, and bends over to get a pot from a cabinet next to the oven.

“Sit down,” she says, putting the pot on the burner. “Part of your surprise is getting to watch me cook. Well, if that’s something you’d like.” She turns to me, cheeks flushed again. “I’m not very good at this.”

“You’re perfect.”