10. Archer
Chapter 10
Archer
The couch that came with the apartment was sinfully comfortable. And speaking of sin, the things I did to Shane on it whirled through my head. The only thing that stopped me from popping a boner was the presence of my brother, scowling as usual. Sometimes I swore he wasn’t happy unless he was unhappy.
Flinging my arm over my eyes, I let out a sigh. “Thanks for helping on such short notice.”
My life’s possessions had been packed away in a storage unit and I was living out of a single suitcase in Cyrus’s cramped house. I was a long way from getting my shop up and going, but everything had been carted up the stairs and stacked in the living room.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Cyrus pushed my feet off the couch and sat down where they’d been.
“Why would it be a bad idea? You like Shane. You’re always on about what a good guy he is. You have some sort of hero worship going on for the guy.” The notion that Cyrus might have a secret thing for his boss, even though he was married, entered my mind. But I quickly brushed it away as unimportant regardless of whether or not it was true. Cyrus was ridiculously in love with his husband, so whatever he may or may not feel for Shane didn’t matter.
“I don’t want things to get awkward if this business venture goes south again. ”
Slowly, I uncovered my face and looked at him. “Are you serious right now? Clayton is the only reason my shop failed. We were doing good. If we weren’t, there wouldn’t have been anything for him to steal from me.”
Every time I had to talk about him, it was like rubbing salt in an open wound. I wanted nothing more than to pretend he never existed. I’d cut all ties with him, personally and financially. I’d blocked him on all my social media accounts and changed my phone number. I’d have happily pretended he was never born, but some wounds took longer to heal.
“But you never pressed charges. You rolled over and let him fuck off with your money.”
Cyrus had always been an eye-for-an-eye kind of guy. Me, not so much. If Clayton wanted to fuck me over—cool… great. Go for it. But I’d never be stupid enough to make the same mistake twice. My new shop was mine alone. But for the grace of having a space to start out in, everything was mine. The equipment was mine. The talent was mine. Clayton had been good, but I was better.
“Cy, we’ve been over this. Charging Clayton and taking him to court, tracking him down, all of that takes time and money that I don’t have. It’s easier to wash my hands of the whole thing. To forget he exists entirely and hope one day the karma bus doesn’t brake for losers like him.”
I shoved myself to my feet. “Doesn’t your shift start soon?”
The only downside to working above the bar was going to be how easy it now would be for Cyrus to track me down.
“You shouldn’t let people walk all over you. But I suppose it’s your call.” Cyrus sighed, like it was a burden on him to let me make my own decisions .
“It is. Thank you.” I hated having this conversation with Cyrus and I was glad to be getting some proper distance between us. Cyrus was older than me by seven years. Just old enough to think he knew better. He’d always embraced the protective big brother role, and as much as I appreciated him having my back, it sometimes got stifling.
Cyrus got to his feet and headed for the door. “Maybe now that we don’t live together, I might get to see you more often.”
I grinned at him. “Don’t count on it.”
Cyrus shot me a dirty look, but finally left me alone. It was weird to know that he was just downstairs now, especially when I had spent the past few weeks avoiding him.
I was tired down to my bones and though I wanted nothing more than to curl up on the couch for a few hours, I had a ton of shit to get done.
With my earbuds in and my favorite playlist blasting in my ears, I got to work unpacking. I did a quick sort of boxes and would unpack the bedroom last. For now, I concentrated on getting the living space rearranged. I moved the couch to the other end of the living room and created a space for myself to chill out or to consult with clients.
Getting my equipment up the stairs had been no easy feat and I thanked my lucky stars I had Cyrus to help me. I’d never have hefted everything up there by myself. No wonder Clayton had only taken the cash. Everything else was too big to put in his pocket.
Arranging the tattoo portion of my space was trickier, but I got everything set up the way it needed to be. A chair with plenty of room to move around it. My tattoo machine on a small cabinet I’d thrifted for my supplies. Rubber bands, ink, needles, razors, and all the other little items that made a shop tick.
By the time I got everything sorted the way I wanted, I took stock of my inventory and made a list of things and inks I needed to order. With the tattoo part of my space set up, I could move on to hanging the art. I stopped and took a deep breath and looked around, planning where I wanted to hang my pieces. Music pulsed under my feet like a heartbeat reminding me that a whole world existed outside of the several hundred square feet I was determined to turn into my second chance.
The sun was significantly lower in the sky than when I’d started unpacking and arranging things, and my stomach angrily reminded me that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast—and that had been a single breakfast sandwich Cyrus had bought me on the way to the storage unit.
Living above the bar was going to have advantages. After making sure I had my wallet and keys, I locked up and went into the bar. The place was busier than it had been the last time I was there. More than half the tables were full and a few people sat at the bar. I took a seat at the other end from them.
Shane saw me walk in and by the time I sat down, he’d finished serving other customers and made his way over.
“How’s the moving going? Cyrus said you got everything up there okay.”
“It’s going great. The space is already coming together. Maybe you’d like to see it when I have things organized.”
My cheeks heated at the thought of taking Shane again on that same couch. Maybe we’d make it into the bedroom next time. If there was a next time. Him renting the space to me had probably put an end to anything that might have happened between us.
“I’d like that.” Shane turned his attention to people at the other end of the bar, calling his name. “Can I get you anything?”
“Yeah, a bottle of whatever’s good and a bacon cheeseburger with fries. ”
After serving me my drink, Shane was off again. I tried not to watch him work, but I couldn’t help it. He was friendly to everyone and they all seemed to genuinely like him. He was an easy man to like. Sitting at the bar, nursing a beer and pretending not to watch every move Shane made wasn’t a hardship. It got even better when my food appeared in front of me, delivered by Mickey, the bartender Cyrus had told me all about.
“You must be Archer.”
“Guilty as charged.” I pulled my burger closer and snatched a fry off my plate. “And you’re Mickey. Cyrus has told me all about you.”
“Nothing bad, I hope.” Mickey said it like he was trying to pass it off as a joke, but I saw the way he held himself, like he was anticipating an emotional blow.
“All good things. Cyrus only pretends to be mean. I think he’s under the impression that people who work in kitchens have to be angry all the time. He’s actually a softie. But don’t tell him I told you that.” I lifted the top of my burger bun up and showed it to Mickey. “See, he knows the burger was for me, so I got extra pickle. He’s soft.”
Mickey pretended to zip his lips. “I’ll never tell.”
Mickey had to go help another customer, but he returned a few minutes later when I was half done with my burger. “I heard you’re renting the upstairs.”
“As soon as I get everything sorted, I’m going to run a tattoo shop up there. It’s what I was doing before I moved back.” I didn’t want to tell Mickey how I’d been fucked over. It was bad enough that everyone else under the sun knew my business.
“Shane let me live there while I got my shit sorted too.” Mickey stole a glance at him and it was easy to see that Mickey had some serious hero worship going on .
“He’s easy on the eyes.” I caught Mickey’s attention with that and he gaped at me. I wiggled my eyebrows at him.
Mickey straightened. “He’s like a brother to me.”
If I’d have been less tired, I might have been able to let the shame that bloomed in my chest fall away, but it took up residence in my exhausted body. I’d wanted to see if Mickey had a thing for Shane and he’d delivered my answer to me. It should’ve made me feel better to know that he and the twink didn’t have anything going on, though Shane didn’t strike me as the type to fuck his staff.
And looks could be deceiving, but the way Mickey looked at Shane should have been a dead giveaway that they wouldn’t be compatible in bed. Not the way Shane and I were.
I finished my meal and Mickey took my dirty plate away with compliments to the chef. The only thing I hadn’t eaten was the useless sprig of parsley on the side. The rush of patrons had slowed, giving Shane time to cross over to my stool.
“Another?” He motioned to my empty bottle.
“I’m good for now. But if you want to bring a couple of those upstairs when you’re done here, I’d love to have one then.”
I didn’t want him to say no. Even though he should. Inviting him up for a drink seemed suddenly reckless. He was my brother’s friend. His boss. My landlord. My lifeline. He’d looked out and saw me struggling, treading water, and had reached down and pulled me up, offering me a second chance to get things right.
Maybe a little of it was spite because of the way Cyrus had spoken to me before, like I was the one that had ruined my business the first time around when all I’d done was trust the wrong person.
I shouldn’t want to complicate anything. Revoking my invitation should have been my next move, but instead I sat and held my breath and stared up at Shane, daring him to say no .
“I won’t be off until late.”
I shrugged and slid off my stool. “I’ll be up if you change your mind.”
“That wasn’t a no,” Shane told me. What he didn’t say was that it should be. We both knew it should be. We should take whatever happened between us, forget about it, and move on like adults.
“But was it a yes?” I held still, as if I’d scare away the right answer if I made any sudden moves.
“See you after last call.” Shane didn’t smile, but I saw the hint of color in his cheeks. I hoped he was imagining all the things I wanted to do to him when I got him alone again. I knew I was.
“I look forward to it.” I held his gaze longer than strictly necessary before hightailing it out of there and slipping back upstairs. Last call was hours away, but my previously exhausted body thrummed to life with a fresh burst of energy.
Cyrus would kill me if he knew what had gone on between Shane and me. He’d resurrect me and kill me twice if he knew that I wanted it to happen again. I should stay away from Shane and I knew it. But no one had fit under me like he had. No one had wanted to the way he’d wanted to and I held onto that with both hands, knowing I should let it go.
I couldn’t.
For better or worse, I was addicted to Shane Taggart.