Page 7 of Grumpy Billionaire Bad Boy

"Oh." I shrug. "Fooled me."

He continues to watch me and for a moment, I allow it, unsure of what he's trying to accomplish other than burn a hole through my forehead.

"Are you done yet?" I say once the moment has turned awkward.

Archer lowers his tattooed arm and steps out of the way. "I called Silver again, no answer."

I stalk out of the bathroom to find the couch made up with sheets, a blanket, and a pillow. Turning toward him, I offer what I can only hope is a polite smile. "Thank you," I tell him.

He runs his hand over his jaw. "That's not for you." He points to the door off in the distance. "You can have the bedroom; I'll sleep on the couch."

"What? No." I pat the corner of the pillow. "I'll take the couch, really. It's not a big deal." I should be grateful he's offering me his bedroom, but things are already weird enough that I just got naked and showered at his place. Do I really need to take things to the next level and sleep in his bed? Silver said I could trust him, but still, Archer is a stranger—even if he's a damn good-looking and grumpy one.

Archer's gaze flickers to the desk in the corner with the elaborate computer monitors adorning it.

I press my hand to my chest. "I promise I won't touch your computers, if that's what you're worried about."

He draws in a breath, his face almost unreadable. "I think you'd be more comfortable in the bedroom."

"I thinkyou'dbe more comfortable inyourbedroom." I plop down onto the couch and stake my claim. "I mean, what are you, like thirty-seven feet tall?" I lower myself onto my side, stretching all the way out. "See, I actually fit, I doubt you do."

"I fit," he blurts out in a feeble attempt to defend his already weak argument.

"Okay, big boy." I drag my right hand under my head and adjust myself onto the couch. "This is pretty comfortable, though." My eyes grow heavier by the minute, the exhaustion fully catching up and daring to drag me into the abyss.

"Are you hungry?"

"No," I lie and beg my stomach not to betray me. I'm so fucking hungry, but I'm more tired than I am famished, and nothing sounds better than getting a solid hour of sleep without having to worry about some creep on a bus getting handsy.

"Are you lying?"

"No."

Archer contemplates my answer but decides to let it go. He points over at the open kitchen area. "Help yourself. There's stuff for sandwiches in the fridge, and there're snacks in the pantry."

"I'm a vegetarian," I tell him for no real reason.

"Oh, right. Yeah. Um, there's probably a vegetable somewhere in there."

I narrow my gaze up at him, his stature exaggerated from this angle. "Being a vegetarian doesn't mean I only eat vegetables."

Archer turns his hand over. "I don't know what vegetarians eat."

"Veggies, sure, but other stuff, like cheese, bagels, fruit, tofu, you know. Any of those things ring a bell?" I raise myself onto my elbows and wince at the pain. "Fuck," I mutter, accidentally breaking that cool streak I had going on.

"Are you hurt?" Archer's brows pinch together.

I let out a breath. "What do you think?" Swinging my legs around, I drape them over the couch, my feet dangling just before the ground, not quite reaching all the way. "I'm fine, though, really."

"You should see a doctor."

"Do you think I put these on myself?" I extend my cast-covered arm and wiggle my leg.

"Why are you so difficult?"

"Why areyouso difficult?" I repeat, no doubt annoying the shit out of him. I don't mean to find such enjoyment out of bickering with him, but I do find it's sparked a light in this otherwise dim world I was living in. And since I don't have much else going for me at the moment, I'm going to keep this up as long as I can.

Archer tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and releases it a second later. "There's food over there.Do nottouch my computer. If you need anything, I'll be in there." He motions tothe bedroom he offered me and leaves me sitting there with a triumphant grin on my face.

---