Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

CLAY

I spend the entire night in the basement, hauling boxes and examining the foundation, working up a good sweat since I know I'm not going to sleep anyway.

Still not sure what I'm going to do when I see Nicholas again. Except for stumble around like an awkward, horny meathead, that is. He's casual and confident, but I'm out of my comfort zone. And even though I'm not melting down about the fact that I rubbed my dick up against another dick, it's enough to keep me awake all night.

I squat to examine another hairline fracture. The foundation is one serious crack away from disaster, but I steel myself not to stress over it. By intervening now, I can save the building from a serious financial and structural nightmare, and I've already picked up some epoxy sealer. Snapping a few pictures and taking notes on my phone, I ready myself to go and meet with realtors, then turn my attention to blocking out the repair with nails and mixing up the sealer.

Just like I hoped, the first stretch of repairs take all my energy. Tomorrow is going to be a long-ass day.

Not tomorrow. Today.

I check out the time. It's four in the morning.

Exhausted, I hit the cold shower and go straight to bed. My last tired thoughts manage to work back to Nicholas, though.

I want to try that again.

My alarm wakes me a few hours later. I put on my good shirt, a collared white one with short sleeves that still feels casual enough that I'm comfortable in it. Then I take my list of needed renovations and estimated costs, and I haul my ass into the city.

I hit up the electric company first, which takes until lunch, but all the realty agents are right there in Allentown. They know the context before I explain, and they all give me the same basic perspective.

First, most of the clauses that Nance and Randy added to the deed are unenforceable bullshit. Second, a developer will offer me the most money, and there's no way to stop them from tearing the building down if I sell. And they will find a way to demolish, clauses be damned. But the good news is, considering all these complications, I might be able to turn a similar profit if I fix it up and sell it to someone who wants to live there. There's a hungry market for historical buildings, just like this one.

One realtor suggested I try to strike the clauses from the deed now, before selling, although that would require both Sue and Nance agreeing to it or me hiring a lawyer to sue them, which wouldn't be neighborly.

As I walk home, my thoughts quickly return to Nicholas. If I sell the building to a developer, it will be a disaster for his business. Maybe I should still cash out and just take care of myself. But these are my grandpa's people, and this was his life. And despite everything, it just doesn't feel right to tear it all down for money, not when I could make a hefty profit fixing it up instead.

I wrestle through all the questions in my mind, trying to pull apart the different strands.

What happened with Nicholas last night was visceral, an instinct coming alive, an urge to touch him. The more I thought about it, the more it felt inevitable. And at least when I kissed him, all the questions and awkward uncertainty burned away.

Last time I had an opportunity to experiment, I balked and walked, turning down my friend from the baseball team right before he moved for college anyway. But I'm older now. I'm far away from everything and everyone that I've known, and I'm ready to answer some questions for myself.

My fantasies are clearer after last night. I want to take Nicholas, rut against him, drive him to climax. Horny, I don't think about being bi or what any of it means.

I just think about the way his muscles quivered when he pressed himself to me, and the surprise when Nicholas pushed back.

I stomp upstairs and turn my attention to dinner, chicken and potatoes in the pan.

Experimenting is one thing, but going back for more means that this is part of who I am. I've been avoiding it for years, but it's staring me in the face. I'm bisexual.

I eat and mull over everything. When I'm done, I decide it's about time to read Randy's journal. I get it from the drawer and pull out the photograph of my grandpa that I hid away there.

I'm never going to know this guy. Not like Nicholas and everyone else did. But I can't deny that I'm curious about his life now. And if I'm seriously considering sticking around long enough to fix up the building, I ought to know a little more about him.

As I look at his features, I wonder how he came out of the closet. When he lost touch with my family, did my grandmother know he was gay? Did he experience any of the questions I've had?

The journal was written in the nineties. The messy handwriting starts around my grandpa's fortieth birthday.

Sue keeps insisting I need to talk about Allen. Nance even got me drunk just to pressure me to do it. No way in hell I'm talking about Allen with anyone. But I guess I agree with her that it would be good to get it all out. Clear my head and organize my thoughts just once before I do what I'm about to do.

A bell rings out, scaring the shit out of me. I didn't even realize there was a doorbell.

After shoving the journal away, I walk downstairs and answer the front door. Nicholas is on the steps, dressed in a light sweatshirt and denim shorts. "Evening," he says, his hands behind his back. "I could have entered through the shop and knocked on your front door, of course. But I didn't want to intrude."

I rub my thumb across my beard. He looks cute, and he's smiling at me. Is he here for sex?

What else could he want from me? Maybe something broke.

"Uh, hi. Evening." I nod, but my neck feels stiff. "Good to see you."

I feel like I'm fucking this up.

"If you're not busy, maybe now would be a good time to check in? I don't want to spring anything on you, but I thought it would be nice to have a moment to talk in private before we run into each other around the shop."

Ugh. Talking.

It would be a lot easier if he came looking for sex. I'm not an asshole, though, even if I am exhausted from my basement all-nighter. So I force myself to make nice.

"Sure. Do you want to come in?"

"How about Blossom?" he asks, friendly. "I made some tea."

"Let me get my shoes."

For fuck's sake, he made tea.

I'm already in too deep. But last night felt like a taste of something, and I'm not satisfied yet. So instead of backing out entirely, I trudge down to the flower shop.

He's left the door open, so I go through the hallway to get into Blossom. There's a big old booth in the front, tucked against the wall and underneath the high windows, flowers spilling from shelves all around it. Nicholas is standing there with a notepad and a steaming tea kettle, and he laughs warmly as he looks at me.

"What?"

"I think the look on your face is called dread. Usually not the best sign in a potential hookup," he teases.

I shake my head. "It's not that," I tell him.

Nicholas nods quickly. "I get it. You're not a talker like I am. That's fine, and we'll keep this short and sweet."

Nicholas slides into the booth, and I sit across from him.

"And just to be clear," he continues, "I'm not available for hooking up tonight. I'd like to stick to conversation right now."

"Understood," I tell him. I rub the back of my head, feeling like I should offer something. "Usually, if sex gets to the point where it needs a conversation, I'm already out the door."

"I'm the total opposite," Nicholas says with a laugh, making it easy. "But that's okay. We'll make it work for us." He holds my eye. "I had fun," he says. "And I'd like to follow through with our plans and see each other again. How about you?"

I swallow. "Yeah," I manage, my heart pounding. "Let's. Again."

Wonderful word use, me.

But Nicholas is right here. And I felt his dick against my dick last night. And we're going to do it again. That's enough to break my language capacity.

He smiles to himself. "Great." He turns to the tea kettle, pouring some carefully into each white cup. "We should establish our expectations. I guess there's a firm end date, if neither of us wants to end it earlier. That's when you leave town, presumably soon."

I take the cup. "About that. I checked out the basement, and the foundation is going to need some work. But I also met with realtors today, and they suggested I would get more money if I finish the repairs before selling. With the roof, foundation, and everything else, there's a good month of work, possibly two."

"Oh." Nicholas twists his lips as he thinks. "Wait, not to switch topics, but if you're fixing it up, does that mean you're not going to sell to a developer?"

"Uh," I say, still scared to make any promises to him. I feel clumsy, too, about the fact that I'm doing something nice for him and for Sue and Nance. Like I'm not supposed to, so I toss out some of the other reasons. "Old buildings can't be replaced. And the craft that went into this place deserves respect."

"Cool." Nicholas leans back, relief washing over him. "Well, thanks."

He beams at me.

I grunt. "Don't worry about it. I should make similar money as I would selling to a developer, anyway," I say, trying to dismiss the topic because I realize I've made up my mind. It feels right to renovate the building and leave it in good hands, so that's the way I want to start my new life with this inheritance.

Nicholas's smile dances in his eyes as he looks at me, but he doesn't push it. "Fantastic," he says. "And I guess back to the matter at hand, you sticking around another month or two doesn't have to be a problem. Right? Although I think we should take it one night at a time first."

"Okay." I swallow. "Nice and easy."

He sips his tea, and I do the same, the floral scent wafting up.

"It's relaxing lavender," Nicholas says as I look at the cup. "With honey."

It's not bad, and I take another sip.

"To get it out of the way now," he adds, "I require safer sex practices."

The tea catches in my throat, but I think I cover up decently. "I use condoms," I tell him, and Nicholas nods.

"Good." He gives me a sympathetic smile. "How about you?" he asks. "Have you thought much about what you're looking for?"

I rub my knee. "I don't know what this is going to mean for me after I leave Allentown. I'm bisexual, I guess, but I don't know anything beyond that. I just know that right now, everything in my life is turned upside down, but last night felt good."

I'm rambling, so I get straight to the point.

"I'm eager, " I tell him. "And there's a lot I haven't done."

Nicholas's smile is genuine. "Guess we'll have a list to get to. I can be down with that." He laughs. "Depending on the list."

I cough out a laugh, too. "It's not like that."

"Don't worry," Nicholas says. "And I hear you loud and clear when you say you aren't interested in romance. I won't expect anything from you that we don't talk about explicitly, and I trust that you'll do the same. Clear expectations will make this work for me."

I'm glad to hear that he understands me. Relationships lead to disappointment, and if I do this, I don't want it to turn messy. Hurting Nicholas would suck.

"You meet some guy you want to marry," I tell him, "just let me know. We'll cut this off."

"If my future husband presents himself over the next weeks, we'll deal with it then. Same for you. If you want to start hooking up with someone else, or do, make sure you tell me. And let me know before you and I hook up again, please."

"Doubt you need to worry about that on my end."

Negotiating sex with one person is exhausting enough.

Nicholas shrugs. I notice his eyes barely dart to the side, toward his notebook.

I grunt under my breath. Of course. "Do you have more notes prepared?"

"No," he says immediately. "I think that's it."

I can tell that he's hiding something. "You have more notes in your notebook," I say. "Don't you?"

Nicholas sighs. "It just so happens by pure coincidence that I might, sure."

"What is it?" I ask, wanting to get it all done and over with, but also I can see it's making him slightly shy. He's squirming or something, and this is a side of him he's never shown me before.

My chest pinches.

Weird.

Nicholas caves easily. "It's nothing. But since you'll be experimenting, I thought we could round out the arrangement, and maybe you could help me try some of my sexual interests, too? Like I'd be experimenting, in a way."

I blink.

Nicholas has fantasies.

Ideas about what he could be interested in flood my imagination. I see Nicholas in ropes, Nicholas riding my dick in a hot tub, his ass in lace panties, or a jock strap. It's intimidating and intriguing at the same time.

"Cool," I mange. "Yeah. Let's make sure we're both satisfied. Right?"

I'm ready to stop talking. That magnetic pull is alive between us again. It tells me that I should shut my mouth, reach forward, take his face in my hand, and pull him to me.

I wrestle the urge back down.

"How about Thursday night?" he asks. "We could try to sneak you over to my place, although it will take some spy craft if we don't want the neighbors whispering."

"Here is fine. I've seen how this town gossips."

"I'm glad you're adjusting."

I finish the tea with a gulp. "Okay. Thursday night."

"Great!" He drums his fingers on the table. "I should get going. I've got an early day tomorrow."

"Okay, sure."

Just try to mentally will away this erection that I have now. I'll head upstairs and deal with it as soon as we're done.

I scold myself to stop thinking about jerking off while I'm talking to Nicholas.

We both stand, and I'm grateful that my jeans are loose enough that my dick isn't obvious. I'm about to walk away, but unlike when we greeted each other, this time, Nicholas does lean forward.

He pulls me into an embrace, and his lips brush over mine, soft and sweet, gone as soon as they're there. Desire lunges inside me, and the heat goes from my head to my toes.

Nicholas step back. "Have a good night. See you around, I'm sure."

I swallow. "Night, Nicholas."