Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
RILEY
One week later...
“Man, I didn’t know you could smile like that!” Pirate Bill declares.
“You’re looking at Finn the way you look at a shiny new engine,” Ali adds.
“Is it love?” Little Joe asks. “As in L-U-vuh-vuh-vroom!”
As he pretends to rev an engine, the whole crew laughs. We’re in the garage, working through a busy afternoon.
“It’s been seven freakin’ days! How long is this crap gonna go on?” I toss a wrench to the ground. “Damn it, do I ever wish I hadn’t told you tools.”
As everyone laughs again, Chase claps his hands to get their attention. “Leave the big guy alone,” he calls out, and turns back to me. “Anyway, you didn’t tell.” He grins like an evil fucker. “We spotted you smooching your boyfriend.”
The way everyone cheers and laughs, you’d think he was a comic genius.
I shove my earbuds back in, turning my back to the garage, but don’t let the ribbing spoil my mood. Ever since the day that Finn told me who he is and how he feels about me, my tolerance for this kind of bullshit has marginally improved.
When my audio book gets to describing goblins, I throw a rag at the wall. “Muscularly scrawny? How the hell are they muscular and scrawny at the same time?” I complain under my breath, annoyed.
Later in the afternoon, Chase and I catch a quiet minute in the office. The garage is bundled up with soundproof curtains, practically cozy around all that metal. Through the side door, I get a glance of the street, busy with pedestrians.
Chase sees me looking and nods. “Couldn’t imagine the garage anywhere else at this point.” He eases back on his heel. “Couldn’t imagine it without you, either.”
I grunt. “It’s a good crew. Pain in the ass, of course. But I’ve never worked with one quite like them.”
“Then stay,” he says. “The crew looks up to you. You’re seeing Finn. Like it or not, you’re a part of this place, old friend. There’s no reason for you to leave when this year is up. I’ll have you as my head mechanic. Permanently. Just tell me what you need to make it work.”
I swallow. Of course I’m thinking about staying, but commitments still make me nervous. And no matter what my heart insists about Finn, I need to keep a check on myself, make sure I don’t rush ahead and fuck this up. It’s not like I have a lot of relationship experience to rely on.
“I like it here,” I admit. “Never stuck around for a job before, or especially for a man.”
“Then don’t,” Chase says. “Stick around for yourself. Do it because this is what you want.”
I consider his words for a moment before I nod. “Okay. Deal.” I start to stick out my hand, but retract it. “Pending negotiations.”
Chase grins. “Naturally.”
It’s the night of the art show, so I take off early. Instead of heading to Finn’s like I most often seem to, I go home to change and get all spiffed up for him. I take a bath, clip my nails, trim my stubble, even put on a fucking collared shirt.
I’m doing this right. I might only last five minutes at the actual event. Finn and I already agreed it’s fine for me to leave whenever I need, no explanation needed. But if that’s the case, I’m going to make those five minutes count, damn it. Prove to myself that I can do this, be there for my man.
When I get to Finn’s place, my boots are shined, my black shirt is crisp, and I’ve even got a bouquet in my hands, which Nicholas generously helped me select.
Finn opens the door, and his eyes light up.
In a snazzy purple shirt with a fashionable handkerchief tucked in the front pocket, he smiles brightly.
That’s why I’m doing this. Right there.
“Hubba, hubba,” Finn says, and I laugh.
“Okay.” I take him in a kiss before I hand off the flowers, which he holds to his face as he inhales and smiles. “You look amazing.”
“Thank you,” he says, and we kiss again, neither of us pulling away. The flowers make their way to the table, and we find the couch.
Half an hour later, Finn and I are dressed again and back out the door. We walk slowly toward the art show, dusk settling over the gayborhood, and I sling my arm over his shoulder.
“I told Chase that I’ll stick around the shop,” I tell him. “Stay on past my contract.”
Finn smiles as he glances at me. “That’s fantastic. I’m sure the mechanics are all glad to hear it.”
I snort. “Yeah, I guess. Bunch of weirdos.”
He pulls up a little closer to me as we walk, and I half-smile to myself, pleased as hell.
Might be something to getting laid right before a social event because the edge is really off tonight.
When we get to the show, I tense up, but it’s not too bad.
The old hotel is full of art, paintings and posters and framed prints covering the walls, while sculptures and objects are carefully placed around the spacious and ornate ballroom.
A spectacular bouquet of flowers is presented up front, and more are scattered about, adding even more elegance.
There’s a large crowd, but it’s easy to disappear into, especially since Finn and I both immediately turn our attention to the art.
“Check out the comics,” I say, gesturing to some framed prints. “Nineties lesbian super heroes.”
“Kavya and Zooey found these at the con,” he tells me, excited. “Aren’t they cool?”
I notice that there are photographs of the artists around too, as well as old party posters, videos of drag shows, and documentation of parades.
“Nice,” I say. “Interesting to see all the kinds of art the gayborhood makes.”
“I thought so, too,” Kavya says as she approaches with Zooey, each dressed in casual, smart suits.
After quick congratulations and greetings, the four of us stand in front of a large, colorful painting, abstract shapes seemingly exploding into other abstract shapes.
“We heard that the arts organization didn’t like the parade because it wasn’t ‘real’ art,” Zooey says, making air quotes. “Kavya and I kept going back and forth about whether that meant we should only focus on paintings and sculptures.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” Finn says.
“I agree,” I add. “This other stuff adds a whole new dimension.”
Kavya takes a glass of champagne from someone passing by and hands one to Zooey, too.
“We decided it was our job to celebrate all the art that the gayborhood creates. It would be a shame to limit that to appease someone else.” She takes a quick drink from the champagne, then another.
“And just remind me of that as I nervously wait to hear about the funding.”
“The show is a hit,” Finn says, “whatever the organization decides.”
Kavya cocks up a grin. “That’s the spirit.”
The two curators get swept back up in the crowd, and Finn and I return to looking at the art, walking slowly. My hand goes to his lower back, and he eases alongside me. We move naturally, and it feels easier to walk through the space with him than if I were alone.
“Don’t know what’s wrong with that guy from the arts org,” I grumble to Finn. “Prick had an attitude problem, if you ask me. And I have an attitude problem, so I should know.”
He laughs. “You’ve got an attitude solution, I’d say.”
I laugh, too. “Sure. I’ll take it.” I shake my head. “They want to fund good art. Fine. But that man was literally turning his nose up at the scavenger hunt. Must be a real asshole, the kind who thinks art is only for rich people in fancy suits.”
“Tell me how you really feel,” a woman says as I nearly plow into her.
I stumble back, surprised, and manage to knock over a little table. Programs for the show spill to the floor as the table clatters, and I scramble to pick it up. “Fuck me,” I grumble.
Once I get the table upright, Finn has scooped the programs up, which he deposits with a flair. “Thank you,” I mouth, horrified for myself, but he only smiles.
Aware that I’m fucking this up, I look to the woman. “I’m sorry about that. My fault.”
She sports a purple jumpsuit, and she shoves a hand in one pocket as she looks at me evenly.
“You were caught up in your rant. Something about an asshole arts organization. A prick with an attitude problem?” She turns up a slight smile.
“That would be my arts organization, by the way. If I overheard correctly.”
My face falls, and my skin feels icy. Oh fuck. I’ve ruined everything.
Everything!
Finn’s hand lands on my bicep, grounding my spiraling thoughts, and he jumps in, saving me.
“Riley was praising the curation of this show,” he says quickly.
“Did you check out those old photographs of Pride floats? So cool. There’s nothing like a life-size papier-maché unicorn to really make you love the gayborhood. ”
Kavya appears beside us. “Sorry to interrupt, is everything okay? I heard a clatter.”
“That was me,” I say, wishing that I had fled after five minutes like originally planned. “Sorry. Everything is fine.”
Kind of.
“This is Kavya,” Finn says to the woman, navigating the awkwardness. “One of the talented curators who made tonight possible. And I’m sorry—I didn’t catch your name?”
“Liz Honeycut,” she says, and offers her hand to Kavya. “I’m here representing the Northeast Arts Council.”
“Oh,” Kavya says, surprised. “We’re glad to have you.” She blinks. “We were expecting someone else. Has anyone welcomed you and offered a tour?”
Liz nods. “Thank you, I’m finding my way. I suppose you were expecting Donald. Truthfully, I never tend to agree with Donald. He’s a bit…” She looks to me with a smile. “Stuck up.”
Relief washes through me, and Finn lightly squeezes my arm, letting me know he’s here. It’s possible I didn’t ruin everything.
Liz looks back to Kavya. “Fantastic show you’ve put together.
I’ll be glad to tell the rest of the committee what a special thing you have going on here in your arts district.
While I have you, though, one quick question.
I’m curating a show of floristry as fine art, and the flowers tonight are stunning.
Real works of art. Could you please pass on the florist’s contact? ”
“Funny you should ask,” Kavya answers.
Finn and I slip away, leaving them to talk. The second we’re by ourselves, he grabs my hand.
“You good?”
“Yeah, thanks. I’m good. You?”
“I’m good!” He laughs warmly and leans against me. “That was unexpected.”
I chuckle, too, able to see the humor in it. “Lucky I’m not the only one who thinks Donald is an asshole.”
We look into each other’s eyes, and everything feels right. The world falls into place, and I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. With Finn.
“You’re good at that,” I tell him. “You directed attention back to the art, made introductions, found common ground. You’ll be a great gayborhood ambassador if you let them make The Scoop the featured business.”
“Thank you. It would be a major commitment, but if it means I get to be a champion of the gayborhood, I’m leaning toward saying yes.”
“I’ll come and knock over tables anytime you need.
But I heard what you said the other day, about wanting something that’s just ours.
I’m going to make sure I’m there for you after the events, when it’s just us.
Take care of you, and make our time together special.
” I pull him closer and drop my voice, lower. “Anything you need.”
Finn smiles. “I like that. Want to head to my apartment now? I can meet you back there in a couple of hours.” He glances over his shoulder before turning back to me. “I like knowing that you’re there.”
“I like being the guy waiting for you.”
Finn leans forward and kisses me one more time. “I love you, Riley,” he says, the sweet words quiet, spoken only for me.
My chest warms, and a smile fills my face.
“I love you, Finn.”