Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

NICHOLAS

Maybe the birthday fumes are getting to my head, but I'm pretty sure Clay is the cutest person in the entire world at this particular moment.

He's wearing a cartoonish flower costume, complete with a sunflower mask, but that was obviously too much for him to handle, so he's covered it up with one of his blue work shirts and topped it off with his boots.

I feel awful that I didn't communicate the expectations clearly enough to him, but I'm also struck wordless by the fact that he put this outfit on to please me.

My heart aches even as flutters fill my stomach. Clay is about to leave.

There's no way I can let him leave without saying something.

We cut a path through the party and toward the long bar that occupies the rear wall of the garden. I get distracted with air kisses and birthday wishes the entire way, including a quick hug with my parents, who are each dressed in head-to-toe rose print.

When we finally reach the rear, Clay drops his paper bag on the bar and takes a seat. "Whatever you've got on tap," he says to Lex, the bartender. "Cheap and light."

Lex shoots me a wink as they fill his glass. "Coming right up!"

When I take a seat next to him, Clay pulls his sunflower off.

I offer him a smile. "Thank you again for doing this for me. I know that simply coming to the party is a stretch."

Grumbling, he puts the sunflower on the bar. "I can't believe I pranked myself like this."

I laugh. "I can't believe you came dressed in the same outfit as Harry. Nance, I might have expected. But not Harry."

He takes his glass and immediately throws back a gulp. "Every minute I stay at this party, you should consider it a birthday gift."

"I definitely do."

Lex leans over the counter. "That beer's half off, if it helps."

I touch Clay's arm, risking this little bit of affection. It's not out of line with how I touch my friends. I've been hugging and squeezing and leaning on people all day.

But this warmth, his warmth, is different. My heart leaps, and I feel like the connection between us is so strong and vibrant, the entire party must be able to see it.

I can feel Clay's breath catch, too, but then he pushes the paper bag toward me, breaking the spell.

"Sorry it's not wrapped," he says.

I grin as I pull the bag open. "It's perfect." From inside, I take out a square blue envelope. "And there's a card."

"Kind of."

When I open the envelope, a folded list falls out.

"It's a schedule of maintenance tasks for the building." He points at the paper, arranged by season and yearly cycles, his messy handwriting rendered in careful, neat rows. "That's all shit your landlord should do. Make sure you get on him and don't let him slack like Randy did."

He's trying to take care of me. But he's only doing this because he's leaving, and that fact is like an edge of pain, tugging at my breath.

I bury it away the best I can. Any conversations need to be saved for a different time and place, even though the words are dancing on my lips now.

"This is so thoughtful. Thank you, Clay," I tell him, releasing his eye before the sentiment gets to be too much. I turn to the bag and pull out the rest, and immediately start laughing.

"You went to the hardware store for me."

"Now don't throw those away when you're done," he says as I pull out a tube of caulk and some weird plumbing product in a bottle. "You take those bottles to the hardware store down the street and make sure you get the exact same product. Same brand, same line. Got it?"

I grin at him. "This is perfect. Thank you, hardware sunflower."

Clay frowns. "I'd almost forgot I was wearing the costume for a second."

I laugh and pull him into a real hug, squeezing him close. "I'm really going to miss you," I whisper in his ear before I can think better, although it's only a fraction of what I need to say to him.

When I ease back again, Clay nods. "Yeah. It's going to suck to say goodbye to you, Nicky." He scrubs his hand over his face and then takes another gulp of his beer. "You got a whole party to entertain," he says, his voice gravelly as he pushes the last of the sentiment away. "Don't let me hold you up."

I glance back across the garden, where everyone I know is pretending that they're not staring at me and Clay.

"I do see a few people I should greet," I say, but I'm not done with him yet. "You sure you'll be okay on your own for a bit?"

"I'll do the best I can."

I tear myself away and, after a few quick greetings, find Kavya, Finn, and Sue off to the side. Kavya's floral suit is as spectacularly chic as she described, Finn has found a daisy- printed jumpsuit that fits him perfectly, and Sue is sporting my favorite of her sundresses, the long one with the luscious peonies print. They've each added accessories of their chosen flowers, too, like the peony in Sue's hair and the daisy brooch on Finn's lapel.

"A stunning display of flower fashion," I say as I approach.

Kavya nods in acknowledgment of me. "We were just dissecting every gesture as you and Clay talked."

"Kavya!" Finn objects, but quickly shrugs. "I mean, not every gesture."

"It is awfully sweet that he wore that flower costume for you," Sue says.

Nance approaches from behind me. "Talking about Clay's flower costume?" she says. Stopping beside her wife, she smooths down the front of her Hawaiian shirt. "He gets a little credit there. I'll give him that."

I glance his way. Clay is hunched up at the bar, drinking a beer by himself.

"He's a good guy," I tell them all.

"A shame he's leaving town," Sue says. "You two have been good for each other. And he's a very skilled carpenter."

Nance drinks from a can of beer. "I'll give him credit for that, too."

"Clay and I are good for each other," I admit.

Finn lightly clears his throat. "And as two people who are good for each other..."

All four of them give me expectant looks.

"What?"

"Hell, Nicky," Nance says, "how many romcoms have you watched? His grouchy butt makes you happy. And he's obviously giving it to you good in bed. Why not give him a chance?"

"Not exactly how I would have put it," Finn adds brightly. "But I agree with the sentiment."

"It's not that easy," I object. "Clay has big dreams about starting his own carpentry crew back in Missouri." I sigh as my thoughts begin to spiral again. "I do intend to tell him how I feel, but Clay has never wanted a relationship. I'm afraid it's not going to go well."

"You won't be telling him that he wants a relationship," Nance says, mildly exasperated.

"You'll be telling him that you want a relationship," Sue concludes.

"Exactly," Kavya adds with a nod.

I lift a finger in the air, my emotions threatening to boil over. "Not at the birthday party," I announce. "It's my thirtieth birthday, and I am not going to mark the occasion with some dramatic love scene! I will address all of this at a more convenient time."

"Oh wow," Kavya deadpans. "The L word."

I throw my hand over my mouth. "That's not what I meant!"

"It's cool," Kavya says. "Love just gets you really emotional. It's part of…"

Kavya trails off. Her eyes linger, and she suddenly drops the can of soda water she's holding. Cursing, she squats to pick it up, and I see Zooey approach.

She's wearing a stylish green-and-white dress with an abstract print resembling vines, and her long hair is worn down in a luxurious blowout, pastel purple flowers woven in everywhere. Her look is immaculate, truly stunning.

"Clematis," Kavya whispers under her breath.

"Oh how the tables have turned," I tell her.

Kavya hisses at me. "I don't know what you're talking about," she whispers and turns quickly back to Zooey. "Hi! You look amazing!"

Zooey shrugs shyly. "Thanks! I like to dress up when I have the right occasion."

She turns to me and greets me with a light hug, wishing me a happy birthday. After some good clematis talk, I politely extract myself, giving Zooey and Kavya some time together. Whatever their connection is about, it's clearly growing.

Nance links one of my arms, and Sue links the other.

"Just know, Nicky," Sue says, "we all want you to be happy. Whatever that looks like for you."

"Thank you," I say. "I appreciate it."

"Now go get those birthday spankings," Nance says and let out a cackle as she releases my arm and the two women walk away.

I spot Clay across the bar, sitting awkwardly between two conversations, and decide to head back to him.

As I play host and weave my way through the party, my thoughts circle over the conversation with my friends. The idea that I'm falling in love with Clay seems almost obvious, something that I've known for a while, even if I wasn't ready to admit it. But having them all point it out makes it that much clearer that I need to take this seriously.

My feelings have grown and changed, so Clay's might have, too. It could upset the last days we have together when I share what I'm feeling, but if there's even a sliver of a chance we could have something more, I need to go for it. Our time together has been unforgettable, and I don't want it to end.

As I finally reach the bar, I see Gunther chatting happily with Clay, who slowly drinks his beer. Gunther is bare-chested with flowers painted all over his torso and belly, and his pierced lily-head nipples are right in Clay's face while he gestures.

"Nicholas! Nicholas!" he says. "The man of the hour!" He throws his arm around me and pulls me close. "Happy thirtieth. I was just chatting up your boyfriend."

"We're not boyfriends," I say at the same time Clay lets out a surprised grunt.

Gunther keeps his arm around my shoulder, and I notice Clay bristle as he looks at it.

"Boyfriends. Lovers. Fuckbuddies. Whatever you kids are calling it these days, you're very cute together. I thought I noticed a spark when you first walked into the gym."

Clay looks deeply uncomfortable, so I try to wrap this up. "Just friends," I say, ignoring the stabbing sensation at my heart when I utter those words.

Gunther notices Clay staring at his arm over my shoulder and retracts it. "Sure, friends!" he says. "And you don't need to worry, Clay. Nicholas and I already made out years ago. We're old news." He chuckles. "I'm no threat!"

Clay waves a hand in the air. "It's fine," he grumbles.

When Gunther departs, I give Clay a sympathetic smile. "Sorry about that."

"You're lucky. You missed the joke about birthday suits and power tools. That was the worst part."

I slide onto the stool beside him. "Thanks for sticking around."

His energy is prickly, not open and relaxed the way I've gotten used to him being when we're alone together. It feels more like when he was first stomping around the flower shop. His walls are back up because of the large social gathering and my blunder communicating the dress code.

Clay turns to me, his elbow up on the bar. "You getting all your birthday wishes?"

Just wishing for you .

"Maybe. They're secret," I tell him. "Otherwise they don't come true."

"Obviously. What was I thinking?" He takes another swig of his beer. "Thirty. That's a big deal, Nicky," he says, my nickname slipping out.

"I feel too young to be thirty. But also kind of old."

"You've got a lot to be proud of," he says. "Including how many damn people are willing to dress up with flowers to celebrate you."

I laugh. "Isn't it cool? I'm going to remember this for the rest of my life."

Our eyes meet, but Clay quickly turns away again. A moment later, a clinking sound gets my attention.

Nance stands in the center of the garden, up on a bench while she hits a beer glass with a fork. "Attention!" she hollers out. When the chatter dies down, she turns. "Finn has an announcement," she says.

Finn gets up on the bench in her place. "I'll make this quick," he says. "But if you'll indulge me." He turns and looks right at me. "Nicholas, to celebrate your birthday, I have brought samples of my first three custom ice cream flavors to share with the party." He reaches down and pulls out a tub of ice cream, which he holds above his head as an excited murmur goes through the crowd. "Inspired by the gayborhood, we have Mattachine Mint and Fudge, named for one of our earliest gay rights organizations. There's Double Cherry Cherry Street, celebrating the location of the city's first Black gay and lesbian bars. And finally, Blossom Petal Ice Cream. It's lemon-lavender swirl with candied rose petals in honor of our favorite flower shop." He grins out at the crowd. "Three ice creams nearly as sweet as our birthday boy. Happy birthday!"

I light up. "You created an ice cream for the flower shop!" I yell out, excited, and shoot a smile to Clay before bounding up to Finn.

I jump on the bench and give my longest friend a big hug, and everyone claps as we laugh.

"Thank you," I tell him. "And honoring our gayborhood? I didn't think I could love you more, you sweet, brilliant daisy!"

Finn looks pleased as he pops the top off the tub of ice cream and scoops some out, offering me the spoon. I try it, letting the zesty, sweet flavors mingle in my mouth, and when I let out a satisfied moan, everyone laughs.

"Get a room!" someone jokes, earning another laugh.

The party picks back up, and Finn situates me with a cone of Blossom Petal ice cream. When I turn to find Clay again, he's gone.

I wander through the party, hugging people and licking my ice cream, my heart sinking as I worry that he's left. I spot a flash of his work shirt, though, heading toward the front, and hurry into the sex club after him.

Clay skulks down a dark corridor, and I call his name.

"Hey," I say. "Are you taking off?"

Clay has his sunflower bunched in his hand. "Uh, yeah. Sorry to not say goodbye."

I nod. "No problem. I know a party like this takes a lot out of you." Unsure what to do with myself, or how to let him go, I lick the ice cream and then offer him some. "Want to try Finn's creation?"

He frowns at the cone. "No, I'm fine," he mumbles.

I hesitate, but can't help but ask. "Are you sure you're fine?"

Clay shakes his head. "Listen. Sorry. You know that parties aren't my thing. And you're having a great time with your friends. Hell, you got a custom ice cream flavor." He frowns. "I gotta go," he says abruptly.

"Sorry again that I didn't communicate the dress code clearly," I blurt out. There's so much I want to say, but now I'm just worried that the party has pushed him too far into discomfort. That I've hurt him.

"Shit. Now I'm making you feel bad." Clay rubs the back of his head, trying again. "It's really just me, okay? Not you. I'm weird, and parties are weird, and…" He trails off before reaching out and taking the ice cream, which he licks.

"This is good," he says, handing the cone back to me. "Please don't let my mood ruin your birthday party."

I relent, aware that he's already stuck around longer than I'd hoped. He's an honest person, and I school myself to take him at his word.

"Of course. Thanks for coming and celebrating with me."

Clay steps forward. In the dark corridor, I think he's about to kiss me, but then a door swings open beside us.

Light flashes across us, and we both take a half-step back.

"I gotta go," Clay says. "Happy birthday, Nicky."