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Chapter Fifteen

TYLER

We’ve been out a few times since I spent the night at Graham’s house. He took me out for lunch one day after a website review meeting, enjoying a stolen hour together before returning to work. Another day, I brought him coffee before my shift at Sprouting Joy, locking ourselves away in his office for a few minutes to catch up. This week, I met him at a bar for a drink before I met my friends for our usual Thursday night at The Flaming Unicorn. I don’t recommend the pre-gaming approach for anyone over the age of thirty. It made for a very rough Friday morning.

All those dates—and I use that word loosely—have one thing in common. They had zero chance of ending up in bed. The worst part is that I’m not sure which one of us is avoiding it.

It’s the weekend, and the two of us don’t have anything planned. I’m acutely aware that our relationship is on a timeline. We’re halfway through Steph’s maternity leave, which means that soon, she’ll be back in the office I’ve come to think of as Graham’s. Then Graham will be off to another job in some other city.

I’m trying to keep my mind off of it, but it’s not easy, even when I’m sitting in Matthias’s backyard, enjoying a beer and the company of my best friends. They’re yammering on about some sports thing I know nothing about. Football? Hockey? Doesn’t matter. Hearing their voices is comforting. But even they aren’t enough of a distraction to keep Graham off my mind.

It doesn’t help that my beer is the same stout Graham ordered on our first date. It tastes like him.

“We need a tie-breaker. Tyler, you’re the last vote.” Colt looks at me, hopefully. I assume he believes I’ll side with him since he’s dating my best friend. Normally, it’s a good guess. Today, he’s out of luck. Not because I’m not on his side but because I don’t know what we are voting on.

“Um…”

“I told you he wasn’t listening.” Nathan laughs and pulls Colt closer to him. They might be in separate chairs, but they’re nearly on top of one another. I briefly let my mind wander to what it would be like to bring Graham to one of these get-togethers. Matthias is a the more, the merrier kind of person, so he’d tell me to invite him in a heartbeat. Hell, Aaron drags Oliver along every now and then.

Awkward at first since we only met him when he was out on a date with Colt. That’s before Nathan pulled his head out of his ass and told Colt how he was feeling. Thankfully, there doesn’t seem to be any ongoing animosity between the two of them.

“Does someone want to tell me what we’re voting on?” I ask.

Aaron grabs another beer from the cooler and hands it to me. “They were taking bets on whether you were listening to the conversation or off in your own little world.”

“Fuckers.” Just because they’re right doesn’t make it better. “Which of you voted against me?” They all look guiltily around our little semi-circle.

“Colt is the only one who took your side.” Aaron takes a beer for himself and sits back down, draping his legs over one arm of the chair and leaning back against the other. How he manages, I’ll never know. Somehow he’s fit and flexible, even though I never hear him mention a gym or exercise.

“Sorry.” I shrug at Colt.

“No worries. I didn’t think you were paying attention, but it seemed like good odds.”

Great. Now I’m both a shitty friend and a shitty boyfriend. At least I’m winning at something.

The conversation shifts to the stock market. Matthias gives out all sorts of insight, which is my cue to slip away. Not that I’m not grateful for his knowledge, but he does handle all my investments for me. Whatever wisdom he’s sharing, I’m already benefitting from it.

At the snack table, I take in the spread. It’s been picked over at this point, so there’s only a few chip crumbs, the cookies that come in the variety pack that no one likes, and a few pieces of fruit. It’s Matthias’s attempt at getting us to eat healthy. I grab one of the oranges and stare at it, trying to figure out if I want it enough to deal with peeling it. Or to deal with the satisfied look on Matthias’s face when he sees his evil plan working.

“So, what’s up?” Aaron crowds in next to me, and I let out a heavy sigh.

“Nothing.”

“That’s bullshit.” My mouth falls open as I look at him. Aaron is as sweet as they come. Him cussing at me and calling me out? It might be snowing in hell. “I know the guys were ribbing you back there, but we know how to be serious when the situation calls for it.” It’s nothing I don’t already know. These three have been part of my entire adult life. It’s hard to picture a time before them. Anything significant that happens to me, they’re always right there.

Except, they also aren’t. Not their fault. They’re physically there, but the rest I tend to keep to myself. The few times Nathan’s seen me emotional were because we were drunk. Drunk Tyler can’t keep his big mouth shut. It’s been a long time since that version of me came out. Around the time I got arrested, I took a good, hard look at my habits. While I didn’t cut out alcohol, I cut back considerably. A few beers are my limit now.

“Thanks.” I put my hand on Aaron’s arm. “The same for you.” Everyone’s aware that something’s going on with Aaron. He’s been weird for months, constantly ducking out of things early and finding reasons to be busy during group events.

“Sure,” he says. The tone isn’t as convincing as he thinks. I start to say more, then think better of it. He can keep his secrets. I certainly keep mine. “You gonna eat that?”

“Nah.” The orange is even less appealing than when I picked it up. “Want to raid the pantry and see if we can find some junk food?”

Aaron grins at me. “I know where he keeps the extra chips. The good ones.”

As soon as we get to the kitchen, Aaron opens the pantry door and starts sifting through the various items on the shelves. While he works, I stare at my phone, willing Graham to message me. It’s rare that we go a day without talking, but some of that is work-focused. I ask about website issues, and he responds to requests for approvals or more information. The personal texts are slower to pick up steam. Still, it’s strange not to have anything from him. My anxious brain immediately comes up with the worst possibilities. What if he’s decided he can’t do this?

I scroll back through our messages over the past few weeks, looking for anything I can use as evidence. As I do, one thing becomes abundantly clear. Every time we’ve had a date, whether a big planned night or a small chunk of time between things, it’s been because Graham initiated it. At first, it was because he was chasing after me. Now? I don’t have an excuse.

“Let’s go. They’ll start to miss us.” Aaron stands in front of me, big bags of chips tucked under his arms.

“You mean we have to share?” I ask, pouting.

“That doesn’t work on me.” It totally works on Matthias, though. For any of us, one desperate look and we can get most things out of him.

“Fine, we’ll share.”

Aaron leads the way back outside, dumping the treats on the table after grabbing some for himself.

I can’t focus on snacks anymore. My heart is racing at my new discovery. It wants Graham, which means I need to make sure he knows it. It might have taken me a while to get onboard with dating him, but now that I have him? I don’t want to let him go. Ever .

That’s a lot to process. It may have been a while since I last dated, but I didn’t feel this way about any of those guys. Which means I need to work not to fuck this up.

I pull up our text chain and type out a message.

What are you doing tomorrow?

I send the message without a real plan. His reply only takes a few seconds.

Graham

Whatever you’re about to suggest.

Pick you up at 1?

Can’t wait

Great, and also shit. I need to come up with a date idea. Fast. Except, my mind is completely blank.

“Hey, guys?” I call over, interrupting whatever they’re hotly debating. “Anyone have any good date ideas?”

“Woah. Like date-date or hook-up date?” Nathan asks. Colt punches his shoulder.

“You don’t take hook-ups out on a date first,” Colt chastises.

“I mean, I do take them somewhere public first. Just to check that they’re not a serial killer or anything.” It’s the safest option. Plus, it allows for a bit of negotiation.

“Okay, is this a romantic date or a not-a-serial-killer date?” Nathan looks at me expectantly.

I’m already ninety-nine percent sure Graham isn’t a murderer. If he is, then he’s very good at hiding the bodies. Romantic though? That seems like a big step in our relationship. At what stage does it become romance? “Let’s call it somewhere in the middle.”

“Well, there might be a craft fair tomorrow. You could go there. Walk around, get some food, and get to know each other,” Colt suggests.

I hold back my eye roll. Pass .

“You could do one of those escape room things. People love those.” Matthias has a point. Though, I’m pretty sure those only lead to arguments. My guess is that more people break up after an escape room than end up in bed.

“Or one of those rage rooms? They let you break a bunch of shit.” Nathans gives his boyfriend a look that says I don’t want to know the details.

“How about a museum? The art museum is always good, and they’ve got a big Egyptian exhibit this month.” Aaron gives me the best idea so far. “They also have a nice bar at the back, so you can hang out after.”

Sold . One Sunday afternoon at the art museum, coming up.

* * *

GRAHAM

“What should we see first?” Tyler holds the museum map open in front of us, trying to pick a place for us to start. It’s never possible to see the whole thing in one go, so we decide to focus. Tyler reminds me that we can always come back. The fact that he’s suggesting that we have future trips here together makes me giddy.

“Well, the Ancient Egypt exhibit will only be here a couple more weeks, so maybe we should go there first in case we run out of time.” It’s why he suggested this in the first place, so I want to make sure we get there, even if it’s all we do today. Tyler told me he loves spending time at museums when he travels, so I’m hoping to see that side of him today.

“If we have time, I’d love to see the surrealist stuff they have on display. I’ve seen it before, but I always like checking it out.”

“We’ll do that second.” I don’t care what we see if it means I get to spend time with Tyler. The fact that he’d texted me to set this up meant a lot. I worry that I’m still chasing after him, even after all this time. While pursuing him was worth it, at some point, I want to know he’s mine. We’re making progress and this put us one step closer.

We set out toward the special exhibits, meandering through the long hallways and turns that take us to the back of the museum. Clearly, it’s set up to encourage folks to stop off along the way. Tyler’s a man on a mission though, his sole focus on getting to the Egyptian space.

The entrance to the exhibit is built with fake stones resembling the outside of a pyramid. It’s a bit over the top, honestly, but it’s clear the kids love it. Many of them are climbing the walls, trying to see who can get the highest. Honestly, my heart races while we watch, knowing how quickly things could take a turn if one of them falls. I shiver and shrug it off. Their parents can worry.

As soon as we enter the exhibit, Tyler’s eyes widen as he takes in the surroundings. It’s hard not to be overwhelmed by the sheer amount of stuff in the space. Display cases line the walls of the connected rooms, with more prominent cases running through the middle. And so much gold. It’s like the whole room is coated in it.

“Wow,” Tyler says, coming to a complete stop after a few steps. “This is insane. And so much bigger than I imagined.”

“Where do we even start?” I hate when there’s no clear path to take through these things.

“Over there?” He points toward the far wall, where a giant poster explains the exhibit. That’s good enough for me. I follow him through the crowd, desperately trying not to trip over any children.

For the next hour, we make our way through the room, pausing to read the various signs with information about the art and mummies in the exhibition. Mummies were not on my bingo card for this venture. It’s an art museum. I thought there would be primarily rocks with hieroglyphics and other forms of… well, art.

I’m far from disappointed, though. The mummies and their masks are the highlight. The museum also displays pictures and information from various tests they’ve been undergoing, including MRIs and other imaging. It’s fascinating and a far cry from what I got in elementary school, which I’m sure is the last time I heard anything about ancient Egypt.

When we finally reach the end, we pass through another faux pyramid and return to the museum corridor. Suddenly, the space feels bland and dark. I know the art is in the various exhibits, but would it kill them to put some in the hallway, too?

“What did you think?” Tyler asks as he slumps down on one of the benches. I don’t blame him. My feet ache from standing around in the exhibit. Loafers were not the right choice.

“It’s amazing. I can’t believe how much science there is in it. I swear I thought it would all be artwork and maybe a couple of pieces of jewelry.”

Tyler looks at me like I passed an exam. “Right? They’ve been able to do so much over the past few decades. With all the technology available, they don’t have to destroy things to study them.”

“I didn’t know you were so into this stuff.” Art I got. His job might be technical, but there’s an art to it. Even my untrained eye can see that. Between that and watching him with his terrarium, he clearly has a knack for it. I can barely manage to match my clothes. It’s why I stick to a color palette of black, gray, and navy. It makes mornings more manageable and saves me from embarrassment.

“As a kid, I wanted to be an archeologist for a couple of years. I watched everything I could find on TV, which wasn’t much back then, and devoured all the books on the topic.” His cheeks turn bright red, and he looks down at his shoes. “At least the kid-appropriate ones.”

“What changed your mind?” The path from archeologist to web developer is not clear in my mind.

“I realized it’s hot in the desert. I don’t handle the heat well, and being outside in the sun for months at a time was enough to convince me that I wouldn’t be good at the job.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Good point. So how did you get from there to computer stuff?” Stuff because even though he and the rest of his team have explained the differences between web developers, web designers, graphic designers, and many other terms, I still can’t explain a single one of them.

“My parents sent me to a coding camp, and I fell in love with the problem-solving side of things. I went into college knowing I wanted to do something with it, but it wasn’t until I took my first computer science course that I figured out what that was.” Tyler stands, and I reluctantly force myself up. My feet protest, but maybe these following sections will allow for more walking and less standing. Or maybe more sitting. I think Tyler mentioned a bar when he told me about this.

“Can you manage one more exhibit?” he asks. My efforts at hiding my discomfort must have fallen short.

“You wanted to see the surrealists, right?” Tyler nods and checks the map. “Then let’s do that one before we take a longer break.” Once he knows the direction, he leads the way down the hall. After we turn away from the main building into one of the annexes, I slide my hand into his.

For a second, I’m sure he’s going to pull away. There’s a sharp intake of air, and his shoulders stiffen. I’m in shock when we make it to the surrealist wing, and he’s still holding my hand. Even with several other couples around, he doesn’t make a move to drop my hand. I’m so entranced that I don’t see a single painting while we walk around.

After everything, hand-holding shouldn’t get me excited. He’s had my cock in his mouth. And yet, this feels more intimate—a part of him I’m not sharing with anyone else.

We stay hand in hand throughout the entire exhibit. It’s not until we sit down at the museum bar that he drops my hand.

“What do you want?” Tyler asks.

“Oh, gin and tonic. Please.” It’s an old-fashioned bar, the kind depicted in old movies, with plush stools and a big mirror running the length of the space. The lights are dim, with battery-operated candles lining the table and bar top.

When the bartender appears, Tyler orders my gin and tonic and a pilsner for himself.

“So how do you end up being a… fill-in director?”

I chuckle at his classification. It’s not wrong. “I went to school for business and non-profit management. I thought I’d get a typical job, but it didn’t work out.” Lousy timing when I graduated, but I was also picky. “The first position I got was temporary. It wasn’t supposed to become a permanent thing, but then they recommended me somewhere else.” I shrug. “And it kept happening. Eventually, I joined a small group that consults and contracts with other places.”

“Do you like it?” The bartender slides our drinks in front of us, and we clink them together before pausing the conversation for a couple of sips.

“I do like it. I get to do a lot of different types of work, so I never get bored. Plus, I meet a lot of new people.” I give him a wink and watch as his cheeks turn red again.

I always love meeting new people, getting to know a whole new setup, and picking up new skills. For a long time, I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. The fact that I’m able to travel made it even better. Or at least it did. As I get older, it’s harder to move around, each time making new friends and setting up a new home.

“And the moving?”

“That’s the harder part. It was easier when I was younger. As a twenty-three-year-old, moving every couple of months was exciting. Now, it’s a pain. Especially with Gulliver.” It’s not for lack of trying that I’m still doing this. I’ve had a few close calls with hiring. Places where I’ve been in the final round before being told the other person got the job. It’s not an easy way to live for me or for anyone I’m seeing. It’s been an issue before, and I really don’t want it to come between Tyler and me.

“So how long are you here?” He refuses to meet my eye.

“Well, I cover for Steph until her maternity leave is up. That means I’ve got about six more weeks here.” Six weeks and one day, not that I’m counting.

“And then what?”

That’s the magic question, isn’t it? I’m looking for another position in Cardinal Falls, but there’s a chance nothing will pop up. I put out some feelers and check the job postings every few days. There are some surrounding areas, but they’re smaller and less likely to have something. I told the agency I prefer to stay, which means very little. Technically, the whole region is open. I have seniority, but that still has to match an open spot.

“I’m not sure yet. I’m trying to stay in Cardinal Falls, or at least close by, but…”

“But there are no guarantees?”

“Yeah.” Well, don’t I know how to ruin a great date? I want to reassure him, but it would all be hopeful platitudes. I don’t know what the future holds, and asking him to be in a long-distance relationship for an indeterminate amount of time makes my chest ache. I’d rather that than break up. If it means a period of time driving long miles on weekends and spending the evening on video calls, then so be it.

We finish our drinks in silence, and Tyler pays the bill. He insists that he should pay for the museum and drinks because he planned the date. I want to protest but bite my tongue.

“Any chance you want to try another movie?” I’m not ready for our time together to end.

“That sounds nice.” Tyler slips his hand into mine, intertwining our fingers for the walk to the car. I try not to let my emotions show through.