Cold and Charisma (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Riley's Perspective

The only thing Archer Wilson is good for is one, his money, two, his car, and three.. Fuck it, never mind. I can't come up with a third reason. However, if you asked me to create a list of reasons why I despise him — now that would be easy-peasy.

After his stupid swim-meet, or whatever that was, he practically forced me to hang out with him. Archer argued that it was his 'reward' for winning, even though he made the whole thing up himself. He's always finding reasons to hang out with me, even after a tiresome swim-meet.

I knew that if I was in his position, the last thing I'd want to do is hangout with someone like me. I don't even know how the clingy bastard can stand me. As I munched on the burger he happily bought me, I stared out the window.

He was talking my ear off again, something uninteresting about swimming, and I couldn't be bothered to reply. "Thanks for the food or whatever, but can you shut up now?" I snapped, looking back at him with a glare.

Archer flashed his usual shit-eating grin, as he stole a fry, "The least you could do is let me talk about my win, Riley."

I rolled my eyes. "You're so fat, you bought me food and now you're eating it?" I snatched the container and placed it far away from his reach.

I knew it was a stretch calling someone like him, with such a Greek god-like physique, fat. He was anything but that. I didn't want to admit it, but I snuck a few glances at his body when he got out of the pool.

His fucking pecs and six-pack were staring at me right in the face! It's not my fault! "I had one fry, Riley," Archer chuckled, "You don't like listening to me talk? I let you scream at me without complaint." He had a point, but I didn't care.

"You expect everyone to be as patient as you. I don't even get it. If I were you, I would've slapped me by now." I took a sip from my soda and pursed my lips together.

"Who could slap that pretty face?" Archer said, probably too innocent to realize how stupidly seductive he sounded.

I opened my mouth to retort something before my stupid face could start heating up, "I could slap your annoying one!" I said, adding a bit of sass without meaning to.

These days, it just seemed like every malicious thing I said was devoid of the aggression it used to withhold.

It was as if I couldn't bring myself to be that mean to him anymore. He was a six-foot-something golden boy who looked like a kicked-puppy whenever I was upset at him.

"Like I've said before, I wouldn't mind." Archer flashed a grin, and reached his hand out for my soda, before raising an eyebrow for permission. "Fuck no, that's so gross. You're not drinking my shit."

I watched as he slowly retracted his hand, before I let out a defeated sigh and pushed the can towards his direction. Seriously, what was he doing to me? Why couldn't I be as aggressive as I was before?

"You're so sweet." Archer said, smirking before sipping out of my soda. "I wonder if you'd let anyone else share a drink with you." I scoffed loudly — me, sharing a drink with someone?

First of all, I don't want anyone's saliva getting on my things, and second of all, I'm never close enough with anyone to do something like that.

Except, of course... I guess Archer was the exception. Just this once. "You think you're so special, Wilson? You're really not." I shrugged nonchalantly. Archer just laughed, sliding the can back to me.

It felt as if everything fell back into place, and the pieces of the puzzle were finally coming together. Archer sneakily reentered my life, lighting it up without my permission like he always did.