“First brojob?” he’d asked after I blew my load onto my t-shirt.
I couldn’t even answer him. I jumped up from the couch and made myself scarce until he left three days later.
I didn’t talk about it with anyone, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t leave me questioning everything about my life.
I fucking enjoyed it—the roughness of his hand. The way he wasn’t shy about his grip. The way he didn’t have to watch me to make sure I liked what was happening. He didn’t have to ask for help the way girls had done. He was sure in his strokes.
I spent the next couple of weeks paying more attention to the guys walking around, and I easily accepted that there were some hot guys on campus, but the girls were sexy as fuck too. The girl who pumped the brakes that night was more than eager to go all the way a week later, and the help I got from my roommate’s brother was a distant memory.
A guy hasn’t touched me since, and until my assignment with Archer, I hadn’t touched a guy in anything other than a platonic way.
I’ve watched other men of course. Sometimes parties get out of hand, and I’ve never really been one to deny myself. I’ve gotten off with women watching other guys get off, enjoying the sights just as much as the woman on my dick.
But does that make me bi?
Doesn’t exactly make you straight.
“What does it fucking matter?”
“What’s that?” Ignacio says.
“Nothing,” I tell him.
Archer has my mind so muddled and fucked up, now I can’t even keep my thoughts trapped in my own head.
Ignacio shrugs before turning his attention back to whatever he was talking to Finn about, and I sweep my eyes over each of them.
I wonder if how I’m feeling, now that Archer has opened the door to the other part of me, is how he felt. If he worried about how his friends and family would feel if they found out he liked guys. It’s ridiculous, but at the same time, I’m not making any announcements either. I doubt there’s a single person in my life that would care who I spend my time with.
I don’t even think Wren, the man who is always thinking about sex, would ask all the fucked-up questions some people do—like all the paparazzi did that first day when we walked into Dr. Kent’s office. No one here would fetishize a same-sex partnership.
“Not a fucking partnership,” I hiss, the reminder annoying me.
“Do you need medical help?” Finn asks. “Because Jude isn’t here.”
My phone chimes a text, and I pop off the couch the second Deacon’s name flashes on the screen.
“He’s lost his fucking mind,” one of them mutters, but I don’t turn around to agree with them.
“You needed me?” I ask, stepping past Deacon’s open office door. “Congrats by the way.”
Deacon’s face transforms. He may be pissed about whatever shit Gaige just pulled, but his son was born last night.
“Thanks. I’m not going to be here long. I need to get back to Anna at the hospital.”
“I’m surprised you’re here at all,” I say, as I cross the room to sit in the chair in front of his desk.
He scoffs.
“Anna told you to get lost, didn’t she?”
He scoffs again. “Apparently, I was scaring the medical staff.”
“I understand,” I say, and I sort of do. I have no idea what it’s like to be a dad, but I do know my boss. I can’t imagine him being the stand back and let others tend to his son type.
“I just wanted to touch base with you on the Bremen case. I need some good news since Gaige seems hell-bent on fucking everything else up.”
My eyes drop to the tabloid under his elbow. It’s the one from our day spent in the park weeks ago. The spread wasn’t exactly praise of Archer’s new relationship but had less of a negative tone to it than the ones before it.
“Media coverage seems to be dying down. Archer hasn’t done anything to draw attention to himself. That movie star who was charged with embezzlement helped them shift their focus. He’s actually pretty low-key.”
“And you’re okay with the assignment still?”
He’s not asking me if my head is clouded with thoughts of my client, or if I’m struggling with keeping my hands to myself.
“All is well, boss man. Now get out of here and get back to your family.”
Chapter 14
Archer
“Lie down, Brooks,” I say when my bed bounces.
I just can’t help poking the bear, so I’ve been lying here awake for over an hour, knowing Brooks would have no other choice than to come get me since I have a therapy appointment today. He’s been absent for the last week with the exception of taking me to yoga, and despite our lack of interaction, I know he wouldn’t let me miss my meeting with Dr. Kent.