5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Archer

I'd spent the day shooting pictures of antiques for a local store's online catalog. They'd recently acquired a large collection of Wedgewood pottery, and they wanted to make sure they showcased them properly. Not the most exciting job, but it paid well. The pottery was stunning, and they'd given me creative license with how the items were displayed, so it hadn't been all bad. I'd had the opportunity to play with the lighting and object placement to get the most flattering result, and that was what I tried to do with my art as well.

It had taken me most of the day to complete the shoot, and now I wanted a nice glass of whiskey and then maybe a bath. One of the things I loved most about my condo was the amazing bathroom that had a large shower and a jacuzzi tub. Hitch had wanted this place to be trendy and a little bit extravagant while retaining the charm of an old hotel, and I thought he'd done a fabulous job.

I entered through my studio and put away all my equipment, and then started down the hallway to the bar. I passed by the yoga studio on the way, and I was both relieved and disappointed to see the blinds were closed this evening.

Crispin. I'd never met anyone named Crispin before, but the name suited him somehow. I was tempted to go inside and see if he was there, which was silly. What would I say if he was there? The boy had been on my mind ever since I'd watched him twisting himself into what looked like impossible positions the other night. Just thinking about the possibilities with a partner that flexible had me half-hard, and then there was the way he'd looked at me when he delivered my food.

The slight intake of breath as the back of his hand brushed against my bare chest, and the way his cheeks went pink when he realized what he'd done. I would love to see that expression on his face again. It had been a while since I'd met anyone I thought was worth pursuing. I had a good thing going here at the Windsor, so it would take someone special for me to disrupt the flow. And Crispin would be a disruption, no doubt about it.

Of course, I was getting ahead of myself. It wasn't like I knew anything about him. Well, other than the short synopsis of his life he'd given me at my door. It appeared Crispin babbled when he was nervous. Something some people might find annoying, but I found it kind of charming. He'd reminded me of Danny, the little boy with the toy from the photo shoot the other day, but all grown up. He still had that same boyish enthusiasm, but for life instead of for make-believe dinosaurs.

When I reached the bar, I was relieved to see that Hitch and Bram were both there. That was part of the magic of what Hitch was creating here. We each had our own unit, which gave us the privacy we needed, but the bar was kind of like the living room of a big, shared house. It was a nice place to hang out and watch a game or chat with friends.

"Hey, guys." I sat in my normal spot at the bar, and before my ass was in the seat, Quincy had placed a glass in my spot that had a small amount of amber liquid in it.

I raised an eyebrow at him, and he grinned. "I got a new whiskey in, and I know you'll want to taste it. It's pegged to take all kinds of awards this year."

"Awesome. Let's give it a try."

I wasn't a whiskey connoisseur by any means, but I knew what I liked, and I was a little picky. This one had a sweet, spicy aroma that was really nice. I took a sip and savored the taste. It was spicier than what I normally drank, with hints of nutmeg and pepper, but it had a smooth finish.

"It's good, Quincy. Really good. I still prefer the Uncle Nearest , but I think this is almost as good."

"Why don't you ever share the good stuff with us, Quince?" Bram asked.

"Because you two wouldn't know a good whiskey if you tasted it. How could you, when you always insist on adding something to it? Archer over here understands whiskey in its purest form."

Hitch rolled his eyes. "You know you work for me, right?"

"I'm well aware." Quincy grinned and added more to my glass now that he knew I liked it.

"So, how was your day?" I asked, looking at my two friends.

"Good, same old, same old. Had to let Elton into his condo twice. I swear I don't know how the guy manages to function. Other than that, nothing worth mentioning."

Elton Warner was one of the residents here at Windsor Place, and he'd been driving Hitch crazy from day one. He was an author and seemed to live in a world of his own creation instead of the real one the rest of us occupied.

"How about you, Bram?" I asked. Bram was a good guy. He owned a bakery that was on the bottom floor next to Luxe. Hitch and I had known each other since college, but we'd both met Bram when he opened his shop here.

"Good, nothing new. How about you, Archer?"

"I had a good day. Took a bunch of pictures for Living Chic that I think came out great."

"So no roaring dinosaurs or brawling brides today, then?" Bram chuckled.

"Nope, not today. I have a question for you two, though. What do you know about the guy at the yoga studio here in the building?"

"Not much," Hitch said with a shrug. "When Aziza told me she was moving to Florida, she mentioned that he'd be taking over. I think she's looking to sell the place to him if he can make a go of it. Why? Did you have a problem with him?"

"No, not at all. I'd just seen him around, and then I decided to order out the other night, and he was the one who delivered it."

"He's delivering food?" Hitch asked. "I don't know when. I swear he's in that studio first thing in the morning, and half the time, he has classes late in the evening."

"Nothing wrong with working hard for what you want," Bram said.

"Right." Hitch nodded. "But there's such a thing as working too hard. Something you still need to figure out, my friend."

"So, what else do you know about him?" I asked, steering the conversation back to Crispin before Hitch got Bram wound up about how important hard work was and how seriously he took his business.

"Not much? Why? Are you interested?"

I should've known Hitch would see right through my attempt at sounding casual. He'd known me too long for that.

"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 looking stressed 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 really do 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 to DoorDash , 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're DoorDash ing, 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.

"Are you serious right now?" Ben demanded.

Damn . I knew he'd be pissed. Jumping up, I began pacing the living room. "What else can I do? Even without hiring someone else, I'm only making enough to pay the bills on the studio."

"Then how was Aziza taking a salary, plus paying you? And weren't there three instructors when you started?" he asked, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees.

"Well, yeah. I mean, the studio makes enough money for all of that, but Aziza isn't going to wait forever for me to buy her brand. She's going to need money to relocate and stuff."

Ben's nose scrunched like he smelled something rotten. "I don't know about that. She went to Florida for a ten-day vacation, then decided not to come back. I'm assuming she still has her expenses here, plus she's paying for wherever she's staying there."

"An Airbnb on the beach," I interjected.

He threw his arms up in the air in frustration. "See. I think you're putting too much pressure on yourself."

I shook my head frantically. "No, you don't understand. A lot of yoga instructors have jobs, and they lead classes at studios as their side hustle. Getting to take over for Aziza and focus on the studio is my dream. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I don't want to blow it. You must understand that. I won't be delivering food forever."

"Come on, Crispin. I don't agree with most of what Dad's been saying, but you have to see that you're taking this a little far. I was worried before, but at least I thought you were spending time with your friends after you left the studio, not working more."

Trying not to sound as sulky as I felt, I fell back down onto the couch. "I thought you believed in me."

All the anger drained from his face. "I do. Don't mistake my concern for your health and well-being with me thinking you should go back to doing something you hate. However, I do want you to take care of yourself."

"So you'll let me keep staying here?"

Ben scowled. "It's not like I was going to kick you out. I love having you here. But—"

Sensing the lecture coming on, I held up one hand and cut him off. "Ben, please don't. All I want to do tonight is lay on the couch and watch TV with my big brother. If I wanted a dissertation on how to live my life, I'd have gone to our parents' house." I pushed my lower lip out for good measure.

"Ugh. Don't pout. You're still such a brat." He tossed the remote to me. "Pick something, and I'll go make us a snack." He got up and strode out of the room. I really did have the best brother ever.