Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CLAY

I've been in Buffalo long enough that I've got a damn routine.

Every weekday, I'm up at seven. Force of habit from my days on the crew in Missouri. I eat a big breakfast with lots of coffee, shower with rock music blaring, and jerk off into the drain.

When I do it, there's only one thing I ever think about now, revisiting my last hookup with Nicholas or working myself up for the next.

Keep thinking about his voice when he was dirty talking me, all the things he said he wanted to do to my dick.

And I keep thinking about getting at his ass again.

The questions are fading the more we experiment, and harder desires are taking their place. It's weird to think that I ever doubted this about myself. But then again, I'm not sure I'd have such a strong reaction to just any guy.

Nicholas is… special.

This morning, after breakfast, I look at woodworking videos on my phone while I drink more coffee, always trying to learn something new. When I'm good and ready, I turn my attention to the long list of repairs, which will occupy me until dinner.

Bunch of bullshit goes wrong when you don't maintain a place right, but I'm doing as much as I can on the cheap, knowing every dollar saved here will count when I set up shop in Missouri. Eventually, though, I'll have to face the expensive projects, like that damn roof.

I even put up a profile on one of those handyman sites, just in case I can pocket a few extra dollars while I'm here.

My attention turns. Wonder how much I'll run into Nicholas today.

Some days, we see each other a lot. I try to keep my eyes down and stay focused on renovations unless he talks to me first. There's that feeling in my gut still, hungry and horny and restless. And there's another part of me that wants to pull him into the stairwell and go at each other.

But I don't let it show. A few times a week, we're something else together, hidden in my place upstairs. Out in the world, we're just two people, sharing a building temporarily.

I tie up my boots, but before I can walk downstairs, a knock interrupts me. I expect it's Nicholas, and I'm glad for a chance to see him away from the crowds.

When I pull the door open, though, it's Sue. She's wearing Carhartt bib overalls with a pink T-shirt, and she has a steaming paper cup of coffee in each hand.

"Good morning. You're up already."

I grunt in the affirmative. "I like to get an early start."

Sue flashes me a smile, but her voice comes out stern. "I'm down a worker today, and saw you put an ad up looking for gigs. I assume you can handle basic roofing and light structural? I pay union wages, union hours."

I squint at her. "You're offering me a job."

"Would you be interested? The work site is only three doors down. Not sure how bad the roof will be when we rip the shingles up, but I imagine it will take our crew a week at most."

Even a few days of union wages would be huge right now. It means extending my trip in Buffalo even longer, but with work like this, I might be able to avoid taking out such a big loan.

"Cool. Thanks for thinking of me."

Sue hands me a coffee. "I don't put up with any bullshit," she says sweetly. "That means you take your full break, full lunch. We don't skimp on safety standards. This is for Mr. Hale and his diner. Since the eighties, he's kept the establishment open, slinging pancakes and bottomless cups of coffee, and now he needs a proper roof. No cutting corners. Understood?"

I nod brusquely. "Got it."

"Good. See you out front in five."

Sue must be in a tight spot if she's coming to knock on my door. I've eyed her work, though, and I know she's the real deal. As excited as I am about the money, I'm pretty hyped up about seeing her crew in action, too.

Bet I can learn a lot working with them.

The team is Sue and three other carpenters who look to be in their forties and fifties, a little younger than her, maybe. Everyone moves together like a well-oiled machine, and I do my best to fit myself into the flow, stepping in where I can, when I can. Soon enough, I end up pulling shingles on the side while everyone talks like old friends, the conversation meandering and interrupted constantly with roofing chatter.

I know what I'm doing, but it requires all my skill to keep up my pace. And more than once, I end up distracted by listening to their conversation, and I have to swallow my pride to take instruction, guidance on how to do my job the way this crew expects it done.

Hope I'm not messing up the opportunity. I want the work, and I realize how much I want Sue's respect, too.

The sun gets higher in the sky, beating down on us, and I pull my T-shirt off. I'm dripping sweat and buzzing with the satisfaction of getting shit done.

"Hey kid," Sue says. "Do me a favor. Head downstairs and get us the other jug of water."

I must be kid .

With a short wave, I agree and head down to the street level, back to grunt work like hauling water. As soon as I reach the bottom of the ladder, Nicholas appears.

"Oh!" he says. "Hi!"

I wipe the sweat off my forehead. I'm suddenly very aware of the fact that I don't have a shirt on as people pass by, hurrying along the sidewalk and across the street.

"Hey."

Nicholas smiles gently at me, and a light flush goes across his cheeks.

I strangle a groan.

Are my nipples hard?

Fuck. I think my nipples are hard.

"I'm working with Sue," I say, gesturing up at the roof. "She needed someone to fill in."

"That's what I hear."

Of course he knows. Everyone knows everything around here.

"How's it being on Sue's crew?"

"Awesome, actually," I answer. "And honestly, I'm a little relieved. Nance scares the shit out of me, and she's always dressed like she's on a crew. I thought she might be there, too."

Nicholas laughs. "She's like you. Her scowl is actually harmless."

I furrow my brow at him. "I rely on this scowl to keep people from bothering me," I say, and Nicholas laughs.

"Nance has her own business," he explains. "She makes doll furniture. Sue built her a workshop in their house."

"Doll furniture?"

"It's a very skilled trade."

"I can only imagine. Human furniture is difficult enough." I ease back on my heel, aware I'm taking too long, but I can't help but extend the conversation just another minute. "How's your day?" I ask.

"Good. We have a lot of orders. I'm off to grab a quick lunch with Finn."

That's the friend he was so excited to see. Frustration clenches in my gut, but I'm not sure why. It's not like I want to meet Nicholas for lunch myself. And Nicholas has been clear that this guy is only his friend. Even if he were something more, it's not my business. We've agreed that we'll let each other know if either of us hooks up with someone else.

"Cool," I say.

"He's gathering information on my new competition. I'm helping him navigate the small-business world here. It's a working lunch."

I nod, way more relieved to hear that than I should be. "Glad you've got some eyes on the competition."

Weird to see him on the street like this. Want to touch him.

It's like this in the shop sometimes. It frustrates me when I can't do what I want to do, but I know the restraint is important. And it's kind of hot, too, the way it builds the expectation.

And the expectation keeps building. Last week, I even stopped in at the health clinic after I noticed a sign for drop-in STI testing. Nicholas stressed that safer sex is important to him, and as hot of a time as we've been having with our hands, I'm getting ready for more.

"I need to get back to work," I say, pulling my thoughts back together.

"Have fun with Sue!" Nicholas says and blows me an air kiss, the thing he does as he delivers flowers around town.

I wave once awkwardly. "See ya."

Hauling the water back up the stairs, I tell myself to calm the fuck down.

Sex is great. More than great. There's a thrill to it every time.

The way we crash together.

Anytime I get worked up seeing him, I need to remember it's just because the sex is good. That's all. I'm not used to hooking up with the same person repeatedly, either, and it's having an effect on me.

"You think you can replace some purlins, kid?" asks Rider, a tall guy with a buzzed head and creases around his eyes.

"Yeah. I got it."

"Good," he says. "Let me show you how we want it done."

And even though I've replaced a thousand purlins in my life, I bite my tongue and nod, letting him walk me through the basic technique.

By the time the day is over, roofing has cleared out any thoughts or emotions. All I can think about is taking a shower and getting myself dinner. Maybe Chinese takeout, extra egg rolls.

As I'm coming back to my building, though, Nicholas is out front, watering the yellow and blue flowers that he has growing in clay pots.

"Hey."

I'm dirty and sweaty, but at least I'm fully dressed this time.

"How's the rest of your day with Sue?"

"Good. I'm learning." I grunt as I glance down the street. "They keep calling me kid, though."

Nicholas laughs. "Hey, Nance used to call me Twinkle. I feel your pain."

"Twinkle?"

"Because I was such a twink."

I snort. "Yeah. Guess it could be worse."

We kind of smile at each other.

We don't have plans tonight. I should go upstairs now.

But I don't want to. Even though I'm exhausted and dirty, I want to push him into the shop, flip the sign to closed , and have Nicholas to myself.

"Good lunch?" I ask instead.

"Finn learned the official opening date of Flower Hub. I've got about six weeks. Apparently, the corporation is opening ten stores across New York. It's part of a major expansion." He shakes his head. "And it's a major headache for me. But at least I know what's coming."

I nod. Wish I could help him with this, but the best I can think to do is what I'm doing, fix up his building and make sure I don't sell it to someone who will fuck him over.

"Don't doubt yourself, Nicky," I tell him.

The nickname slips out. I've heard Sue call him that, and Nance one time, too. It embarrasses me to have said it. Maybe I don't have the right. But the flush that goes over Nicholas's features makes it worth it.

"Can I send you upstairs with flowers?" Nicholas asks. "I keep all my friends stocked with fresh bouquets."

"Sure. Thanks."

It's funny that he called me his friend. There's something nice about it, like we can acknowledge each other. But it feels wrong, too. Like it's not enough, not right.

He returns with a small vase of flowers, dark purple, white, and inky blue.

"Still on for tomorrow night?" he asks as he hands the flowers off.

I take them, my stomach twisting like the last time he gave me a bouquet.

"Sure, Nicholas," I manage. "Tomorrow."