I study him as he takes slow steps across the room, still busy with his phone.
The memory of our makeout on the beach creeps into my mind, and I feel my damp clothes more acutely, as well as my panties that are still soaked from the hot mess we started.
“You should take a shower,” Archer says, finally tearing his gaze off the phone. Sand and saltwater are a messy combo, I agree. “Follow me.”
I walk after him around one of the stone slabs, and it leads into the lit-up bedroom.
Wow.
I thought the living room is minimalistic—his bedroom is a dark-gray rectangular room with soft light seeping in from the seam along the perimeter of the floor.
The only furniture here is a king-size bed and a small stone shelf next to it with nothing on it.
“Does anyone live here?” I joke, my eyes frantically searching for anything else.
Archer chuckles. He comes over to the wall next to the bed and presses on a certain spot—that’s when I notice the barely outlined square. There comes a soft pneumatic sound, and a large rectangular part of the wall, the size of a door, detaches from the wall, and moves forward and to the side, revealing a lit-up walk-in closet the size of my bedroom in Pennsylvania.
“Seriously,” I blurt out, grinning like a fool, and walk toward it as Archer walks in.
There are racks of hanging clothes, mostly in black and gray.
“How many closets are in this room?” I ask, studying Archer as he pulls something from one of the shelves.
“Five.” He passes me a red t-shirt.
I can’t stop gaping. “This is awesome.”
His lips curl in a smile. “I’ll give you a full tour sometime.” His phone beeps. “The food is here.”
Oh.
I study the shirt in my hands. “Do you not have—”
“Girl clothes? No.” He waits until I walk out of the closet, then pushes the door that slowly creeps back in its place and locks with a soft click, the wall looking like it’s just a wall.
Damn.
“This shirt is large size but you’ll be fine,” Archer says, walking out of the room and not turning around.
A shirt? That’s it?
“The shower is that way.” He points to another stone slab that’s a wall. “Don’t let the food get cold.”
The last words echo from outside the bedroom, and I walk into the shower.
Wow. I gape around as I shed my damp jeans and tank, then peel off my panties and bra.
The bathroom is the size of a master bedroom. Open concept. A white bathtub. An alcove that’s lit up with multiple tiny lights. Four showerheads. Who the hell needs four showerheads?
I step into the alcove, staring at the handles that I have no idea how to use.
“Would you like to activate the shower?” The voice makes me almost jump. An AI. God damn you!
“Yes,” I blurt.
“Regular settings?”
“Yes.” I grin.