don’t want to hear anything about the two of you playing doctor.”
Riley feigned an exhausted stumble, a bit for fun, and a bit to indicate the tiredness was sinking in. Warmth flooded her veins when Zane caught her. She pushed upright again. “Seriously. I need coffee. We should go to Denny’s. If I have to work in the morning anyway, why sleep?”
“I can do Denny’s.” Archer pulled his keys from his pocket. “I’m with Zane, though. Call in sick. Stop by the shop and pick up the stack of manga I’ve been holding for you. Unless you’ve got something better to read.”
Riley was about to agree, when Zane cut in. “I’m guessing reading someone else’s work isn’t the same, when you’ve got your own to focus on.”
The warm fuzzies flitting through Riley beat a rapid escape but didn’t take her embarrassment with them. Please don’t let him do this . Her gut sank. “Denny’s?”
“Wait. Really?” Archer studied her, curiosity and doubt in his hazel eyes. “Are you doing more than just dabbling now?”
“She’s going pro.” Zane smirked.
She was going to kill him. Or something. Why was he doing this to her? The private support was one thing, but getting friends and family to gang up on her, bombarding her with so many expectations, when she didn’t even know if she had what it took to make it, was too much.
“For real?” Archer raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
She furrowed her brow. How was she supposed to respond to that? “I haven’t decided yet. It gets difficult to pick a direction, when someone”—she glared at Zane—“keeps telling everyone before I’ve made up my mind.”
Zane frowned and turned away.
“You know he’s biased.” Archer didn’t back down. “It’s really hard to make it in that market. You can’t be good . You have to be the best .”
Zane’s eyes narrowed. “She is the best.”
“She’s good.” Archer shrugged. “I’m just saying.”
“Well, don’t,” Zane said.
Riley’s good mood evaporated, the truth of Archer’s words sinking in. Maybe suggesting they all go for coffee was a bad idea. Exhaustion overtook her thoughts, pushed on a wave of Archer’s doubt. He might be a lot of things she didn’t like, but he also never sugarcoated the truth, the way Zane did. Archer had a point. She’d have to be the best, and she wasn’t.
Chapter Twelve
Riley didn’t want to go through the front door. She didn’t want to do this in front of Archer and every other customer in the shop, but Zane was in there, behind the counter, not looking quite genuine as he laughed with his friends. She pushed inside, and Archer grinned.
“Hey. Are you here for the manga after all?” he asked.
She was there for her drawings, but she knew that wasn’t what he meant. She looked at Zane, hoping her expression conveyed how desperately she didn’t want to discuss details. “Technically.”
Zane straightened up. “Hey.”
“I need back that thing you borrowed yesterday.” It took a force of will to keep the tension from her voice. She didn’t care that Zane still had her sketchpad; she didn’t want to talk about it with an audience. Her ego was bruised enough without another dig from Archer. But asking if she and Zane could talk privately would expose as much of her.
“So this is what it’s like to be on the outside of her vague questions.” Archer looked back and forth between them, his tone too light, given the tension in the room.
Zane rolled his eyes and turned to Riley, expression softening. “It’s in my apartment.”
“Sounds perfect.” She ignored the way Archer clenched his jaw, and followed Zane upstairs. When he held his apartment door open for her, she brushed past without a word, pacing the short distance between the living room and kitchen areas before turning on her toe and heading in the other direction.
He leaned back against the door, hands in his pockets. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing. Just… Nothing.
Riley feigned an exhausted stumble, a bit for fun, and a bit to indicate the tiredness was sinking in. Warmth flooded her veins when Zane caught her. She pushed upright again. “Seriously. I need coffee. We should go to Denny’s. If I have to work in the morning anyway, why sleep?”
“I can do Denny’s.” Archer pulled his keys from his pocket. “I’m with Zane, though. Call in sick. Stop by the shop and pick up the stack of manga I’ve been holding for you. Unless you’ve got something better to read.”
Riley was about to agree, when Zane cut in. “I’m guessing reading someone else’s work isn’t the same, when you’ve got your own to focus on.”
The warm fuzzies flitting through Riley beat a rapid escape but didn’t take her embarrassment with them. Please don’t let him do this . Her gut sank. “Denny’s?”
“Wait. Really?” Archer studied her, curiosity and doubt in his hazel eyes. “Are you doing more than just dabbling now?”
“She’s going pro.” Zane smirked.
She was going to kill him. Or something. Why was he doing this to her? The private support was one thing, but getting friends and family to gang up on her, bombarding her with so many expectations, when she didn’t even know if she had what it took to make it, was too much.
“For real?” Archer raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
She furrowed her brow. How was she supposed to respond to that? “I haven’t decided yet. It gets difficult to pick a direction, when someone”—she glared at Zane—“keeps telling everyone before I’ve made up my mind.”
Zane frowned and turned away.
“You know he’s biased.” Archer didn’t back down. “It’s really hard to make it in that market. You can’t be good . You have to be the best .”
Zane’s eyes narrowed. “She is the best.”
“She’s good.” Archer shrugged. “I’m just saying.”
“Well, don’t,” Zane said.
Riley’s good mood evaporated, the truth of Archer’s words sinking in. Maybe suggesting they all go for coffee was a bad idea. Exhaustion overtook her thoughts, pushed on a wave of Archer’s doubt. He might be a lot of things she didn’t like, but he also never sugarcoated the truth, the way Zane did. Archer had a point. She’d have to be the best, and she wasn’t.
Chapter Twelve
Riley didn’t want to go through the front door. She didn’t want to do this in front of Archer and every other customer in the shop, but Zane was in there, behind the counter, not looking quite genuine as he laughed with his friends. She pushed inside, and Archer grinned.
“Hey. Are you here for the manga after all?” he asked.
She was there for her drawings, but she knew that wasn’t what he meant. She looked at Zane, hoping her expression conveyed how desperately she didn’t want to discuss details. “Technically.”
Zane straightened up. “Hey.”
“I need back that thing you borrowed yesterday.” It took a force of will to keep the tension from her voice. She didn’t care that Zane still had her sketchpad; she didn’t want to talk about it with an audience. Her ego was bruised enough without another dig from Archer. But asking if she and Zane could talk privately would expose as much of her.
“So this is what it’s like to be on the outside of her vague questions.” Archer looked back and forth between them, his tone too light, given the tension in the room.
Zane rolled his eyes and turned to Riley, expression softening. “It’s in my apartment.”
“Sounds perfect.” She ignored the way Archer clenched his jaw, and followed Zane upstairs. When he held his apartment door open for her, she brushed past without a word, pacing the short distance between the living room and kitchen areas before turning on her toe and heading in the other direction.
He leaned back against the door, hands in his pockets. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing. Just… Nothing.
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