CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CLAY
“This is fine,” I grumble to myself as I look around the house. “Totally normal.”
I’ve made some progress. All the boxes and tools are pushed to the walls. There are sheets on the bed. I even grabbed some of the old gay junk from the basement, a few useful things like a bathmat, purple curtains for the front window, a waffle iron.
It’s livable. And Nicholas has already seen my place. He understands my situation. But now he’s about to walk through that door again, and no matter how many times I re-stack the boxes, I can’t seem to get it how I want it.
I throw the broom into the closet. Walk over and look at the bouquet he gave me, which I’ve got on the kitchen table. Crack my knuckles.
Need to calm the fuck down.
But I’m nervous. And excited. Anxious in a way I haven’t been about sex since I was young.
Eager to prove something to myself, too.
I know there’s nothing wrong about what Nicholas and I are doing. I don’t buy into any of that homophobic crap. But there’s still risk to this. It’s unknown. And being bi could impact my life in all kinds of ways.
It adds an extra edge of thrill to whatever is about to come. Whatever I let myself want.
Last time, I didn’t really think. My body responded to his, and I moved the way I wanted to. Same as I would with a woman, even though the feel of his body and the unfamiliar scent made everything different.
There’s a knock on the door, and I push a hand through my hair. I’m just in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, and I immediately wonder if that’s right. He likes dates and stuff like that.
Although we’re not dating.
I did shave.
Yesterday.
When I open the door, Nicholas is in shorts and a button-up shirt. He’s smiling, and I want to pull him inside, but I don’t let myself.
“Come in.”
“Hi!” He steps in and bends to untie his shoes. “If you ever change your mind about relationships and decide to get married,” he says, “do yourself a favor and defer to your florist. Or go ahead and pay an arm and a leg to import special-request flowers that might not arrive on time anyway. But at least consider some local, in-season alternatives first. And don’t come to the shop panicking at closing time.”
I scoff. “Don’t worry. There’s no timeline in which I get married.”
He shoots his eyes up to me. “Shame. You’d look great in a tux.”
“People are disappointing, especially if you make them family. Hell, I don’t see how you can listen to ridiculous wedding flower requests all day and not get cynical about it.”
Nicholas stands. “Love is ridiculous, yes. And gay culture is a little ridiculous sometimes, too. But we have a lot to say! Andwhen you’re in love, you need everything to be big and loud to match how big and loud the love feels.”
I snort out a laugh. “Maybe you do. I reserve my big and loud moments for dire emergencies. Life-and-death shit.”
“Like fleeing an angry bear?” he asks sweetly.
“Exactly.” I fight off a smile. “Can I get you a drink?”
“What do you have?”
“Bottled water. Beer.” I look up at the ceiling. “Coffee.”
Nicholas shrugs. “Sure, I’ll take a beer.”
I get us each bottles from the fridge. “All that romance might be over the top, but I can see that it sells. You’ve got a good business down there. Must make you proud.”
