Chapter 33

Archer sits straight up in bed and looks down at me. His eyes are heavy with sleep and his hair is a mess on top of his head. He looks completely disheveled and completely confused. He rubs at his eyes and looks down at me.

“What the hell?” he grumbles. His voice is thick with sleep. It jolts through my body like a current.

I scramble backward and up onto my feet. “I should be asking you that?” I hiss. My voice is hoarse and rough.

Archer’s eyes bulge as he finally realizes the Nanny was in his arms. He immediately rips the blanket up higher to sit under his chin. I gawk at him, confused as to why he’s trying to hide. Then my eyes drift down to the slightly tented spot right over his crotch.

I look back in Archer’s eyes. I feel a tightening across my chest and a deep pit developing in my gut. I look down and see my nipples have pebbled into stiff peaks. They poke through the thin fabric of my sleep shirt and into the air.

I yelp and cross my arms over my chest. I glare at Archer.

“Don’t look!”

“I’m not!” he snaps. The blanket is still hitting under his chin. “You were pressed up against me! It’s a natural reactions.”

A growl starts low in my throat. Natural, my ass. The prick had popped a boner from being pressed against me.

“Stop that,” Archer barks, all alpha. My growl quells immediately. “I already told you, I’m not interested in sleeping with you. You probably weaseled your way into my arms in your sleep and my body just reacted the way it would’ve if there was a hot girl in my bed.”

I open and close my mouth like a fish. I’m not sure if he’s insinuating he finds me hot or that he doesn’t find me hot and sees me as just any other girl who he’d fuck. Instead, I scowl at him and dart out of the room. I book it back to my own room and slam the door behind me. I sink down to the floor and let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

What the fuck just happened?

I recount the whole thing later in class to Debbie. I need back up to figure this one out and Debbie’s the only friend I have here. She gasps when I get to the boner part.

“Are you kidding?” she whispers, urgently.

I shake my head. “Not at all. But then, he said that I was the one who initiated the sleeping in his arms thing. And told me he’d reacted the same as if there was a different bitch in his bed.”

Debbie gasps again. “Chloe!” she says, hurriedly. “Is he telling you he has the hots for you?”

“I dunno,” I mumble. “I’ve never had this happen to me. Hells, I never sleep in the same bed as anyone let alone my douchebag employer.”

“Douchebag employer seems like he’s got a thing for you,” Debbie muses. I choke on the air in my throat and sputter it out.

“Absolutely not,” I say, shaking my head fervently. “He can’t. He sucks! He hates me!”

“Does he?” Debbie muses. “He wanted to induct you to the Court. Him, specifically. Any other time, Neils done the ceremony. You can’t tell me that is a coincidence.”

I think about it for a moment. It was odd. Then there was the whole “I’m sorry” thing that completely threw me for a loop. But then, I think about all the awful shit he’s done. The collar, the contract, the shitty uniform. Two goods don’t out-weight a million bads. I shake my head.

“It doesn’t make sense,” I mumble, more to myself than Debbie.

She shrugs. “Love doesn’t most of the time.”

“Oh shut up,” I snort. “He doesn’t love me.”

Debbie gives me a look. I cringe and wave my hand.

“We just woke up in the same bed,” I go on. “We were both watching Mia. It was late. That’s all.”

Debbie deepens her look. I scowl at her. At that point, our professor saunters over and asks us how we’re doing on the assignment we haven’t touched. Debbie apologizes for us as the professor glares at us and moves on to the next group. As he leaves, Debbie looks back at me.

“Trust me,” she whispers, avoiding being caught. “He likes you. A lot. And I think you like him too.”

“Don’t be absurd,” I hiss. “He’s a misogynistic asshole.”

Debbie shrugs. “Just sayin’,” Debbie says, drawing the statement out. That ends the conversation as we focus more on our Politics class assignment. However, my mind is still reeling about the whole thing. Is Debbie right? Am I starting to develop a thing for Archer?

It fills my mind for the rest of my classes that day. I’m exhausted as I enter the pyramid. I’m even more exhausted by the fact that I have to go pick Mia up from fucking Archer’s room. I lazily walk through the hall to the same place I woke up this morning. I make sure to knock before I step in. I hear a grunt and take it as my sign to go in.

When I enter, the sight alone is enough to send me into a tizzy.

Archer is sitting on a bench in the corner of his room with all the weights. He’s holding two massive dumbbells, one in each hand. Hi body is slick with sweat. There’s beads of it dripping down his bare back and settling into the waist band of his very short, shorts.

He must’ve not noticed I was there as he continues to go through his bicep curls. Every single muscle in his upper body is twitching and flexing as he lifts the weights. The pit that started this morning in my stomach gets bigger and wider and deeper and all of a sudden, I’m pressing my thighs together.

Finally, Archer ends his reps. He turns towards the door and I’m frozen. Strapped to his chest, is Mia. She’s clapping happily and gets even more rowdy when she notices I’m at the door. Archer’s brow furrows as he realizes that I’ve been watching the entire show he just put on.

My face feels so hot and tense as he continues to stare down at me. I’m violently aware at the moisture that has collected in between my legs. My fight or flight kicks in and I bolt out of the door. I get back to my own room and slam the door behind me. I sling my backpack off and bury my head in my pillow, begging the memories of what just happened to leave my brain.

I think Debbie was right. I think I have the hots for Archer.

I scream into my pillow out of frustration.