Page 8 of Archer

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Page 8 of Archer

This was one of my favorite ways to start my morning. My days were often chaotic, so I enjoyed the peacefulness when I sat out here first. The Windsor had been part of the original downtown area, and the street it sat on was charming and often had unusual characters walking by. Naturally, I always had my camera with me, and the light was perfect this morning, so I couldn’t help but take a few pictures. The shadows stretchingacross the road made for some very interesting shapes that I thought would be stunning in black and white.

Once I was satisfied with my photos, I put my camera away and went back to eating my breakfast. I was sitting there enjoying my muffin when the revving of an engine and the blaring beat of a pop song disrupted the tranquility of the morning. I looked up from my coffee in time to see a bright orangish-redVolkswagenconvertible come speeding by. The top was down, the music was thumping, and damned if the cute little yoga instructor wasn’t behind the wheel singing along like he was putting on a performance.

I shook my head and sighed. That boy had no sense of self-preservation. He should be paying more attention to the road and less to whether he nailed the chorus in the latest Taylor Swift song. Besides, I thought yoga was supposed to be all about being Zen and calm, not about disturbing the peace.

I watched as he whipped into the parking structure at the end of our building that was reserved for residents and shop owners. After his car disappeared from sight, I took a deep breath and tried to reclaim my sense of peace, but it was no use. All I could think about was my yoga boy.

What was he doing here so early? Did he have a morning class this morning? How did he start out his day in such a chaotic way and then promote the mindfulness you were supposed to find through yoga and meditation? And yes, I’d read up on yoga after meeting him, so I knew that was supposed to be one of the benefits.

The contradictions were intriguing to me, and I wanted, no needed, to understand what made him tick. On the one hand, he’d seemed flustered and shy, but on the other, he was running a business and teaching classes. Yoga was all about going with the flow and maintaining inner peace, but he was running himself ragged working multiple jobs.

I forced myself to stay there until I finished my coffee and ate the rest of my muffin. Then I got up and took my plate and cup back into the bistro and set them on the table by the trash container. The outside entrance to the yoga studio had been in my line of sight the whole time, and I hadn’t seen a single person enter, which meant he must be in there by himself. I didn’t know exactly what my plan was, but I wanted to talk to him to see if I could get a sense of who he was and what drew me to him.

I went through Luxe into the lobby of the old hotel to the place where Harmony and Joy was located. I thought I’d knock on the door and ask him some questions about what kind of yoga he practiced and what classes were available. Not that I planned on taking one, but I had to start somewhere, and I figured showing an interest in his business was as good a place as any.

Those plans all changed when I found myself once again standing in the lobby watching him. The blinds were up like before, but he wasn’t doing yoga this time. Instead, he was sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by a bunch of different-sized colorful glass bowls. One time when I was a kid, this guy came to our school and used a fork to play sounds on a bunch of glasses. I couldn’t remember the whole presentation, but it had something to do with sound and water vibration. I couldn’t hear them through the thick glass that separated thestudio from the lobby, and he wasn’t using water, but I could tell he was making some kind of sound.

He had a weird drumstick-looking thing, and he tapped against the bowl and then slowly ran the stick around the edge. The young man who’d been jamming out in the car, speeding down the road, was gone. This Crispin looked calm and serene. I could see the inner joy he had reflected on his face as he moved the stick from bowl to bowl in what I assumed was an order that made some kind of sense to him.

After a few minutes, he stopped tapping the bowls and took a deep breath, then slowly, his eyes opened, and he was looking right at me. A broad smile lit up his face like he was pleased to see me, and in one seamless fluid motion, he rose from the floor. Then he came over to the door and unlocked it before pulling it open.

“Good morning, Archer.”

“What were you doing in there?” I blurted out, and then realized how rude a response that was to his greeting. His smile faltered, and I hurried to fix my blunder. “And good morning.”

I was sure that didn’t sound any better, but his smile was back so that was okay.

“I’m playing my crystal singing bowls. Do you want to hear?”

I actually did, which was good because that meant I could show interest without having to ask him about yoga. “I do. Although I don’t know anything about them or their purpose.”

He made a swooping motion with his hand, indicating I should enter the studio. “Well, come on in, and let me tell you all about them.”

Crispin

Archer followed me in. I’d wanted him in my space so many times that I wanted to pinch myself and make sure he was really here. I watched nervously as his gaze swept the inside of Harmony and Joy. I wanted him to like the studio. I wanted him to like me. He took his time, taking in every detail, so I took the opportunity to drink him in. He was so much taller than me and fit. I wanted to run my hands through his thick black hair and rub the scruff on his face between my legs. Seriously, the man exuded sex appeal.

Trembling with nervous energy, I blurted, “Well, what do you think?”

A slow, gorgeous smile spread across his face, transforming Mr. Grumpy–Hotness into the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Wow, how could he possibly get sexier?

“It’s… really peaceful in here. It feels different just crossing the threshold,” he said, looking bemused. What had he expected it to be like? Feel like? I wanted to press for information, find out if he’d ever been somewhere like this before, but I didn’t want him to leave because I was being nosey.

Clasping my hands together in front of my face, I barely suppressed a full-body wiggle. “You think so?”

Archer focused on me, and I swore he was peering into my soul. “I think you know it is.”

I shrugged bashfully, hoping for modest but probably not quite pulling it off. I was proud of this space and everything I’d help Aziza do to get it here. “It generally is. It’s meant to be. This is a place for people to come and drop off the weight and heaviness of their day. Of their world,” I said, throwing my arms out wide for emphasis. “I cleanse the space daily. And this morning, you’re feeling the full effect of that and the vibrations.”

The more I spoke, the higher Archer’s eyebrows went toward his hairline. “Cleanse? Vibrations?”

“Yeah, you know, I sage the place, burn incense, and make sure everything’s in its proper spot. And as you saw, I was spending some time with the bowls. Take off your shoes, and let me show you.” In my excitement, I didn’t think twice about grabbing his hand and dragging him over to stand in front of my crystal singing bowls the minute he was in his socks. “Oh. Hold on.”

Leaving him standing there, I ran over and grabbed a yoga mat, a bolster, and a pillow and blanket. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get him to relax enough for the whole experience, but I could try. Setting everything up six feet in front of where I was set up, I gestured down. “Have a seat.”

He smirked as he lowered himself into the middle of the mat, planting his feet and draping his arms over his raised knees.

“Uh. Feel free to lay down and get comfortable.” I pointed at the green bolster. “If you stick that under your knees or your shins, it’ll help you let go as your body sinks into the ground.”




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