2. Clayton

Chapter 2

Clayton

Isadora looks around the empty apartment with her hands on her hips. “It’s so bland in here, but we can work with this layout.” She’s wearing an orange safety vest with her pronoun button stating She/Her over a trans flag background. Her nut brown hair is slicked back into a high ponytail, and just for me, she didn’t get her nails done this week.

“You know I appreciate you being here.” I look around my new start. I had to get away from New York city. Had to get away from him being around every damn corner. After six months, I’d finally had enough of seeing his face on every billboard. We’d grown apart, but it doesn’t mean it makes things any easier when we finally broke up.

“Clay, babe, I’m proud of you.” Izzy pulls me into a hug. “And I’m not too far behind.”

“I’ll be there with bells on to help you move, too, sweet cheeks.”

“Oh, I know it.” She gives me a wink before turning on her heel. She opens every kitchen cabinet before marching to the first bedroom, then the second. “Which one are you going to use for your studio? Or are you going to use one of the backrooms of your shop?”

“Maybe the smaller room and a spot in the shop? I think I like the idea of having two shooting locations. What do you think?”

“Sounds perfect. Keep people guessing where you are.”

“It’s not that hard to figure out. My new shop address is on my website.”

“Yes, yes.” She waves me off and opens the closet door of the smaller bedroom. “This is tiny.” A frown mars her face. “You might need more storage cabinets. That’s the only problem I can find. Lack of storage.”

“And no dishwasher,” I grumble.

“Ew, yeah, that too.”

I laugh at the face she makes. We’ve been best friends since high school well before her transition. Izzy is the bestest best friend anyone could have, and I’m so glad she’s mine. We’ve stuck with each other through thick and thin. Through heartache and pain and fame.

When I started FlowerClayton a little over a handful of years ago, it was just for fun and a little educational. But it exploded, and I hired Izzy to help. She’d been stuck in a corporate job her father threw her into and she hated it. I’m just glad I could offer her something she loves doing. Organizing chaos.

Never in a million years would I have thought I’d have a booming floral business looking the way I do. Not that I’m ashamed about my appearance. No one would think a guy covered in tattoos and has an obvious gym schedule would have a love of all things flowers. Apparently, my followers have nicknamed me flower Daddy and I play into the part. I love my people, but there are a few that get out of hand with creepy comments or DMs.

“Come on, big guy, time to haul everything in.”

Over the hours, Izzy and I bring in everything I brought from New York city. Which, honestly, isn’t a lot. I purged before I filled my U-Haul with the leftovers, keeping only the necessities. I didn’t want to be burdened with bad memories. Old memories. Unwanted memories. I wanted a full fresh start and that meant getting rid of so much old energy. So much of him . Southern Indiana seems like the most random place for me to land, but I have family here. Good memories here. The fifteen years in New York city were a learning and growing experience. I learned how to finally be Clayton. How to be a Daddy. How to live. Now it’s time to forge a new path. As long as I have flowers in my life, nothing can go wrong.

“I’m gonna order some art for your bland ass walls,” Izzy says as she stuffs a slice of pepperoni pizza in her mouth.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I want to. Let me get you a housewarming gift.” She bats her thick lashes and pouts.

“Okay. Not too much, though.”

“I’ll get you what I want.” She sticks out her tongue and swipes her phone from the table. It’s not like she’s forty-four frickin’ years old or anything. Not that anyone would suspect she was older than mid-thirties. She kicks her feet and giggles as she hides her phone when I pick up the paper plates to throw them in the trash. “You’re going to love everything I get you. And for that extra personal touch, I’m having it hand-delivered from the artist.”

I blink back at her. “What?”

“What do you mean, what? It’s a local guy. He’ll deliver.” She grins so wide I have to wonder what she has up her sleeve. “And you’re going to loooovvveeee everything. I have a six sense about these things.”

“Or you know my other profile name and pay attention to who I follow with it.”

She shrugs. “Of course, I snoop a bit. That illustrator book cutie lives around here somewhere.” She winks, and I know she’s planned something.

“I have no idea who you’re talking about.” I cross my arms and stare her down, but that only makes her laugh harder. Of course, I know who she’s talking about. Milo is adorable and an amazing artist. Plus, the tattoos covering his lithe body? Yum. I’d love to examine every inch of him.

“We know everything there is to know about each other, Clay. You like that guy. Milo, is it?” She taps her temple. “And you’re going to meet him because of me. Oh! Maybe he’ll be your perfect Little.” She pushes out her chest and preens. “I’m such a matchmaker. You’re going to get together and be the happiest happy Clay ever .”

“So you’re a psychic now?” I cock a brow. I love her, I really really do, but sometimes she goes too hard.

She wiggles her fingers as if to conjure something. “Yep. Why do you think my name is Isadora? I like the witchy vibes.” Before she can say anything else, she yawns. “I should head to the hotel.”

“I wish you’d stay, so you didn’t have to waste your money.”

“I’m doing this for me. I have a hook up later tonight.” She wiggles her phone. “I plan to enjoy myself thoroughly and I don’t think you want that happening in your nice, clean new digs.”

“Okay, didn’t need to know that, but I hope you enjoy yourself.” I wrap her in a hug. She’s warm and somehow her signature scent of apricots and vanilla still clings to her.

“Ew, you need a shower.” She pinches her nose and swats me away while I laugh.

I walk her to the door and hold her coat open for her to pull it on. It’s going to be a quiet night, but maybe that’s just what I need. “Send me a pic of your hookup’s license so I know who to murder if you go missing.” Not that I’m worried. Izzy is smart as fuck and knows how to handle herself.

“Will do! And don’t look so sad. I’ll be back bright and early in the morning to help you get your shop squared away.” What she doesn’t mention is that afterwards she’ll be going back to New York city to tie up personal loose ends before she joins me here. Unless she changes her mind, but I won’t dwell on that thought. If Izzy wants to stay in New York, I’ll give her my blessing. She squishes my cheeks then opens the door, leaving me to my thoughts.