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.”
