Lana woke up the next morning to Archer’s abrupt knocks before he entered through the door leading to their shared washroom. For the most part, both had been pretty good at dancing around each other when it came to using the same bathing space. Lana was up before him and showered first. Which is why she was confused when she saw him marching into her room. She sat up, careful to pull the covers up and conceal her chest from his view since her tank top was nearly translucent and she wasn’t even wearing a bra.
“Irina’s sick,” Archer said, putting his hands on his hips, standing in front of her shirtless.
Not for the first time, Lana couldn’t help but notice his muscles. He was ripped, more so than any guy she’d seen before, except for Tony of course.
“My eyes are up here,” Archer said
