Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

NICHOLAS

How is a person supposed to concentrate on anything with Clay flexing his muscles and working a drill across the room?

I flit about the shop, taking care of business but totally distracted the entire time. My hips bounce, and I dance to the music, trying to shake off some of the energy, but I'm undone by how ridiculously hot it is to see Clay work a drill.

The man is efficient and skilled. I don't know much about carpentry, but I can tell that I'm watching a master of his trade at work. He disassembles and reassembles the shelves like he's washing his hands. I struggle more to change my fitted sheet.

And it's generous of him. He has a million things to do, and he's taking the time to help me. It's going to save me an incredible headache.

I even think I notice him stealing glances of me, checking me out. But could he really be into me? He hasn't flirted or dropped any hints, even after coming out. I should appreciate what he is doing instead of getting excited about things that will never happen for many reasons.

As he finishes up, I turn the music back down. I've got a vase ready, and I sweep it into my arms as I turn my attention to assembling Clay's thank-you bouquet.

"These shelves will be more than capable of holding the weight you'll put on them. But if anything comes loose, tell me."

I walk over and touch one of the shelves, which is rock solid and sturdy against the wall. Everything is in a perfect line, all the supports uniform.

"This is amazing," I tell him. "Thank you again."

Clay makes one of his grumbly noises, but I think he's pleased.

"What were you coming by for?" I ask. "You weren't just hoping I'd have some broken shelves."

"I heard the noise. I should be here to haul those boxes out of the basement, but based on the vibe out back, I think this brunch is a doubleheader. Doesn't look like I'll have the space today."

I laugh. "The twice-retired leagues only play doubleheaders, I believe." As he cleans up, I walk into the shop to grab a couple dark purple orchids to feature. "Any plans for your evening?"

"Probably just fix some shit upstairs." He coughs. "What about you?"

"Straight home after I finish up here. Sunday night is my only real chance to clean my apartment. Oh—but I am meeting with my friend Finn for dinner on my free night this week. I haven't seen him in a bit, so that should be fun."

Clay nods. I'm not sure what he's thinking, but since we're talking, I decide to give him an opening.

"Ignore this question if you'd like, of course," I tell him, "but I'm curious. Does the fact that you came out to me indicate that you're starting to come out in other parts of your life, too?"

Clay slides his hammer into his belt. "Huh? I don't know. It's still…" He waves his hand in the air like he's annoyed. "Imaginary."

"Sure," I tell him with a gentle shrug. "Although my future husband and soulmate is currently imaginary, too, but I'm sure as sunshine that I want him."

Clay sits back on my work desk. "What about your friend?" he asks. "You're getting dinner. That's not a date?"

"It's like I told you the other day. It's a friend-date."

"Forget relationships. Even your friendships sound complicated."

I shrug with a smile. "No less complicated than your situation, I guess."

Clay clicks his tongue. "Got me there."

I grin, able to tell that his mood is lightening even though he barely changes his expression.

Once more, he gives me a look that almost feels like checking me out, and curious desire trembles through me.

"It's not that I'm ashamed of being bi," he says. "I just honestly haven't ever thought to explore it. Or when I could have, I wasn't ready yet. I don't know. It seems wrong to start calling myself that, telling other people that's who I am, when I don't even know…" He trails off and rubs at his stubble, like he's trying to think but coming up short. "That's all," he says.

"If you do want to experiment with men," I tell him, "you have a great opportunity right here."

Clay tilts his head to the side slightly, and something different washes over his features. I hear my own words and realize the implication, like I'm offering myself, and I quickly stammer on to cover up.

"While you're in the gayborhood," I add. "I'm sure you could find a guy who would be happy to oblige you."

"Right." Clay nods. "That's true."

"I understand feeling hesitant," I tell him, sharing more. "But it sounds like you have more experience with casual hookups than I do, at least. I only do that when I'm on vacation."

He frowns. "I guess this is like a vacation for me. One where I work all day. But the guys in this town must be worth shit. You're a damn catch, and even you can't get a decent date."

"I am a catch, thanks for recognizing," I tell him with a laugh, emboldened a little more by all the implications of what he's saying. "And you would be a catch, too. For casual sex or for hand-holding and romance, if you ever changed your mind."

"Not gonna lie. Experimenting with hand-holding sounds even more terrifying to me. I might be as bad as the other guys in this town."

I laugh and shove a couple of the deep red roses into the vase, topping off the bouquet, which I've realized I've made quite romantic and lush. "I guess it can be terrifying, in a way."

Clay walks over to me at the work table. "It's good," he says, "that you know what you want. Most people don't. Or, at least, don't know how to stick to it."

I play with the flowers. "Randy always told me I needed to loosen up and have fun. He was more of your philosophy."

"A pessimist. That's what I hear."

I chuckle. "He said it was fine to look for love, but a shame if I didn't enjoy myself while I'm waiting for the right guy. He'd definitely encourage you to experiment, if he were still around." I shake my head quickly. "Anyway. It's fine to call yourself bi whether or not you've tried anything. And it's fine to not take that identity on, too. Whatever feels right for you, that's what matters."

"Sure. Thanks."

Clay looks at me like he doesn't know what else to say, and I push the vase toward him before I embarrass myself with any more unsolicited advice.

"There you go. A bouquet for upstairs."

He raises a half smile. "Thank you."

My stomach does a little dance.

Clay lifts the bouquet. "Have a good night, Nicholas," he says and lumbers out the door.

The next morning, Kavya, Sue, Nance and I all stand in the back of the shop, staring at the shelves.

"Our stuff has never looks so organized," Kavya says.

"It's impressive handiwork," Sue agrees as she looks at the brackets. "Flawless." She turns to me. "And he didn't ask for anything in return?"

"Nothing."

Nance cracks her knuckles. "I heard at the barber that he's bisexual."

"He's not exactly out," I tell her.

"Then why'd he take Gunther's number at the gym?" Kavya asks.

Sue taps some of the new supports that Clay installed. "These are quality brackets. He didn't charge you for these brackets?"

"Nope," I answer again.

She purses her lips, considering that. "Hmm."

Sue is the best carpenter in town, so she knows what she's talking about.

Nance huffs. "Is Randy's grandson not an asshole?"

"We did think Randy was an asshole at first, too," Sue points out.

"And Randy thought everyone was an asshole," Kavya adds. "Right up until the end."

Sue hums. "Randy left me a note where he acknowledged that he was only pretending to know how to maintain his house out of stubborn pride. Which, considering the man's stubborn pride, must have taken some effort."

"And he asked us to be nice to his grandson," Nance grumbles. "Because he knows that I'm a grump, too, but we're all family."

"Oh, he really twisted the knife," Kavya says. "An apology and a sincere expression of affection?"

"All the cheap tricks," Sue agrees. "You'd almost think it was a forgery."

Nance shakes the shelves, trying to get the handiwork to budge. "Huh. Clay must like you," she says.

"It's not like that," I say quickly, and all eyes are on me.

"What?" I ask, and my voice comes out annoyingly close to a yelp. When everyone continues to stare, I attempt to divert attention.

"Oh, did you hear? Elizabeth asked Kavya on a second date for Saturday night, but Kavya is turning her down because she's going to the planetarium with Tanya instead."

Nance puts her hand to her heart, my diversion working. "What? I thought Tanya was back together with Candace."

"They've opened their relationship up, dear," Sue says. "Didn't you hear at brunch?"

It's not that I mean to put Kavya on the spot, although I don't feel bad about it. I've figured out that she secretly loves to gossip about her dating life with Sue and Nance, just like the long-married couple loves to learn about the younger generation and give her dating advice. And I know that I'll fail if I try to hide my feelings about Clay from these three once we really get into the matter.

Crushy feelings. Horny feelings. Feelings that are like nature taking its course after someone fixes your shelves and sweats in your flower shop.

And feelings that I can't ignore much longer.