Page 11 of Archer
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“He’s totally your type. You should go for it.”
“Do you even know if he’s gay?” I asked, although I was pretty sure I knew the answer. Straight guys didn’t make it a habit of touching other men’s bare chest or so obviously enjoying it if they did.
“Pretty sure Aziza mentioned something about it, so I think so.”
“Okay, but more importantly, does he want a Daddy?” Bram asked. “I can’t see a guy who doesn’t, being able to put up with your grumpy ass.”
“My grumpy ass? You’re one to talk.”
“I’m not grumpy. I’m serious. There’s a difference.”
“Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that,” Hitch said, and we both laughed.
I knew Bram was right. If I was looking for a partner, he’d need to be a boy. I pictured Crispin’s blush and his awkward little wave. I couldn’t say for sure that he was a boy, but I was pretty sure he needed a Daddy to take care of him. The question was, did he want one?
Crispin
After inhaling a bowl of homemade soup that Ben had made, I went into the living room and sat on the couch. “It’s so nice to be home.”
My brother paused what he was watching on the television and turned toward me. “Long day?”
I shrugged. “I conducted an extra class. A few people attended, so I think it was worth it.”
Ben nodded. “You’re still enjoying this, right? Taking over the studio is still your plan?” he asked, trying to hide the concern in his eyes. I hated to tell him, but his poker face sucked.
My brother had always supported my decision to leave the world of finance and follow my heart. I wasn’t so sure he totally understood my love of yoga, but he knew my job had been crushing my spirit, and I needed to do something that made me feel fulfilled and happy. His letting me move in here to save money and get on my feet while pursuing my dreams was proof of that.
“It is. I can’t explain it, Ben. How peaceful the studio is. How much it fills my soul after a session to see people come in lookingstressed or haggard or worried, then leave with smiles on their faces and a pep to their step. Knowing I helped them get there… I can’t describe it, but it does something for me, you know?”
He nodded. “I get it. That’s the same enjoyment I feel helping people with their investments. I’m worried that you’re burning the candle at both ends. I know it doesn’t help with Mom and Dad dropping by all the time.”
I snorted my agreement. “The last thing I want to deal with after a long day is convincing Dad that I’m not losing my mind or being immature.”
Ben sighed. “I hear you. I swear, they’ve been here more since you’ve moved in than they had been in the four years since I bought the house.”
“Really?” I asked, confused. They’d been around so much that I’d assumed that Dad made a habit of hanging out with the son who hadn’t disappointed them.
Ben rolled his eyes in annoyance, reminding me of when I’d been a little boy watching my teenage brother arguing with my parents about how overprotective they were. Thankfully, he’d been a good kid, and all his efforts had paved the way for me when I hit my teen years.
“Yeah. They never invited themselves over before. Now, suddenly, it’s like my place is where they come to hang out. I know Dad isn’t going about it the right way, Crispin, but I reallydo think they’re just worried about you. He wants the best for us. He always has.”
I scrubbed my hand down my face. “I know that. And I feel bad avoiding them because I know it hurts Mom.”
“I think it hurts Dad, too, little brother,” he said gently.
“Then why can’t he stop being such an ass? He never asks me how my day was like you do or how the studio is or anything. All he does is lecture me and talk down to me like everything I want is insignificant.”
Ben held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. “I know. I’m not saying he’s right. I’m saying maybe try and give him a break.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I glared down at the floor. Was I behaving like a child? Probably, but Ben knew me well enough to know that I was more hurt than angry. “Maybe I would if he took me seriously. Hell, you’d think with how hard I’m working, he’d lighten up. I’m at the studio early in the morning for classes, and then I’m there all day trying to drum up new business before my night sessions. I’m exhausted by the time I change toDoorDash, but I do it anyway. It’s not like I quit my job and started partying twenty-four-seven.”
When my brother didn’t answer, I glanced up at him. His jaw was set, and he looked angry. “What’s wrong with you?”
“You’reDoorDashing, Crispin?” he asked, his tone hard.
Oops. I’d been so careful to hide that little tidbit from him. Even Aziza didn’t know that I picked up that side hustle.