Page 21 of Grumpy Billionaire Bad Boy

I blink up at him. "What did you just call me?"

Archer sighs, takes the shoe off my good leg, and covers me up.

"I feel fine," I lie, my eyes heavy, my head throbbing. I kind of want to throw up, but I'm too tired to care. I reach out lazily and graze his hand with my fingertips. "Don't go," I whisper, the two words coming out of my mouth without my consent.

Why would I ask him to stay? He's a stranger, and he hates me, and I can't deny that the feeling might be mutual. Still, I can't ignore that for the first time in what might be forever, a sense of safety washes over me when he's around. Maybe it's his apartment, or simply being thousands of miles away from home, or perhaps my father being dead—but whatever it is, Archer is attached to it whether I want him to be or not.

"I…" Archer's deep voice trails off like he's unsure of what to do.

"Please," I add. "Just until I fall asleep."

"You look like you're already asleep."

I let out a grunt and drop my hands, turning over onto my side. "Whatever."

A long silence fills the room, and I convince myself that Archer disappeared out of thin air. Once I've accepted this fate, he moves.

I expect him to leave me behind and return to his mysterious work, but Archer does the opposite and shuffles around the other side of the bed and climbs in next to me. I blindly reach for him, my hand landing on his solid torso.

He tenses but doesn't move me off him. He doesn't even complain that I'm touching him.

I reposition my face on the pillow, breathing in and basking in the scent of him that remains from when he was in here last.

Sleep calls to me, so close yet so far away.

This is really stupid, I think. The idea of lying with a stranger and finding comfort in it is beyond me. It must be the pain coursing through me to result in something so foolish.

Maybe a few hours of sleep will return me to my senses, and I can go back to pounding on his chest and bickering with him to let me out of his apartment.

Until then, I'm going to play pretend and act like we don't despise each other.

Because if I'm being honest, fighting with him is better than facing the reality that nothing will ever be the same again, and my life as I knew it is over.

Chapter 8

Archer

Ican't stop staring at London's tiny hand on my stomach, her fingers twitching as sleep finally drags her under.

Christ, she's infuriating for such a small human being, but when I look at her like this, I can't help but admire her beauty in a way I'm sure parents do when their screaming baby falls asleep.

And I know once London opens her eyes, she'll return to her normal self, poking and prodding at me until it drives me fully insane.

This was all such a stupid idea. Why I agreed to it, I'll never know. Part of me wishes I could turn back the clock and change the outcome of the situation, but I've lived too much of my life trying to alter the past and have had to come to terms with the fact that it's impossible.

Once we make our choices, and the consequences fall into place, there's no going back.

I know I've tried, and no matter what I did, I can't fix what had been done, what had been taken from me. My heart aches at the countless things I tried but it all resulted in the same outcome.

Flashbacks of blood staining her clothes, a lifeless body in my grasp, hushed pleas to save her.

It was all for nothing and I refuse to allow my actions to result in another casualty.

Carefully, I pick London's hand off my chest and lay it on the bed, and with even more caution, slip out of the room, leaving her behind to rest.

I slide my phone out of my pocket on the way out, taking a last glance at her to make sure I didn't disturb her. Silver's number is quickly located, and I press it a second later, hoping like hell the asshole answers.

"Yeah?" he says through the receiver.

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