Unintended Consequences

Chapter 11

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    "Your house?" I repeated, "Why am I at your house?"

    "Uhh, do I need to take you back to the ER already?" Archer questioned. "The doctor said I have to watch you for the next 24 hours?"

    "Oh no, I know... I just... I thought..."

    "You thought we'd be going to your dorm? Yeah. No thanks. I saw how tiny your couch was and you didn't even have a tv." A blush warmed my cheeks at Archer's misunderstanding. No, I didn't think we'd be going to my dorm. I thought I'd be going there alone. Did he really mean for me to stay with him?

    I quickly flicked through any alternatives in my mind. The only other person around to help me out would be Madeline, but we weren't close enough for me to burden her like that.

    "Look Charlotte," Archer sounded impatient now, "It goes against every instinct I have not to tell your family about this. Fuck. I mean this is serious shit and I'm keeping it a secret for you. So you either need to let me make sure you are okay, or I am going to have to tell your parents. Cause I'm not dealing with the fucking guilt of something else happening to you."

    I angled my body towards Archer as I considered his words. His forearm rested on top of the steering wheel as he twisted in my direction. The slight tick of his sharp jaw told me he was irritated. Guilt and fear battled for dominance in my chest as I tried to make a decision.

    Archer had done so much for me in the last 12 hours, heck even before that he had helped me. But how could I survive 24 hours alone with him? I was an introvert, I couldn't spend that long alone with anyone—let alone Archer. In the end, though, guilt won. I didn't have the energy to argue with him and he was helping me.

    "Okay, let's go then I really need to shower," I said tentatively.

    "Wait there," Archer demanded as he hopped out of the truck and jogged around to my side. I quirked a brow as he opened the door and grabbed the plastic bag of my belongings. He then stood stiff as a soldier with his hand stretched out for me to grab.

    I hesitated briefly before looking down to see the cement a mile away from where I sat. Good Lord. Who needs a truck this lifted? I grasped his hand as I lowered myself onto the running board and then stepped down onto the driveway. Exhaustion overtook my body, as I swayed on my feet. Archer's hand squeezed tighter as I shook my head to regain some composure.

    "Ow! You're gonna break my hand!" I whined when his grip crushed my knuckles together.

    A deep chuckle rumbled out of Archer but he let me go, "I'd call you a drama queen but I'm assuming that is not nice given the current situation?"

    "Yes, good guess. I'm pretty sure rule #1 of being a caregiver is not making fun of your patient," I quipped back.

    "I'll keep that in mind. But no promises," he said with a smirk. "C'mon let's go inside before you pass out on the lawn." I almost checked the sky for flying pigs as it dawned on me that Archer and I were having a normal conversation. But instead, I turned towards the large house and followed Archer up the porch.

    His back muscles rippled as he hunched down to unlock the door. This was going to be harder than I imagined... I averted my eyes as he opened the door and turned to let me walk in first.

    I stepped over the threshold and quickly took in my surroundings. The main floor of the house was a large, open-living spaced, doused in a mixture of beiges and browns. On the far left wall was a huge tv with multiple gaming systems on a shelf below it. Several couches were angled towards the tv, with a wooden table in the middle. Clutter was scattered across the surfaces but overall, it was cleaner than I would think football players lived.