“Prepare to be surprised,” Bay declared, and nodded his head to the right.
Travis stepped around Bay as he came to a stop and deposited his empty cup into the trash can beside him. His gaze was drawn to the golden glow emanating from the clear structure up ahead.
“A greenhouse?”
“Yep,” he responded. “Come on.”
Travis followed him up the gravel drive, looking forward to the heat that was surely trapped within the large, clear building. As they drew closer, Travis could recognize the shelves that made up each side of the building, housing greenery and splotches of color in plants that Travis couldn’t begin to name.
Behind the greenhouse was a real house, and Travis pointed to it, lights lit within the home.
“Should we ask before we go in?”
Bay grinned and shook his head. “Nah. That’s Miss Day. She’s a sweetie and opened the greenhouse after her husband died. It’s more of a community thing, just wait.”
Bay pulled the door open, a wave of heat smacking Travis in the face as he entered. His eyes grew even wider as he stepped farther inside, revealing what the shelves hid from the outside. Shelves lined the walls, with heat lamps strung and hanging from above to keep the plants warm, and through the center of the building ran a long planter, only broken up every ten feet or so to make room for small glass tables and chairs. On each end of the planters, surrounding the table, were poles strung with lights to create an illusion of privacy. Travis followed Bay toward the table as he took in the whole place.
“This is my favorite place. Miss Day keeps it running year round. It’s a vanity project more than anything, though she does grow common herbs and things like that.”
“How old is Miss Day?” It was immaculate, and surely needed a lot of upkeep.
“She’s thirty-two. From what I hear, she has a whole Sunday school class who helps her with everything that needs to be done.”
He shrugged off his jacket and folded it over his arm. “It’s really cool. I’ve never been in one of these.”
“They’re not all like this,” he said, taking in the lights and the greenery as if he hadn’t ever seen it before.
Travis stopped beside a table at the same time Bay did and settled his gaze on the other man. “I guess not.”
He cleared his throat and tried to ignore the way the string lights reflected in Bailey’s chocolate eyes.
“I figured we could hang out here for a bit, warm up before we headed home?”
Bay pulled out one of the chairs without waiting for an answer and motioned for Travis to do the same.
“Sure, yeah,” he mumbled, and took the only other chair at the small table.
Bay stripped off his jacket too, and Travis pretended to glance around at the plants again. But really, he was trying not to stare as Bay pushed his sleeves up, baring his forearms. They were such a weakness for Travis, and he remembered it had been one of the first things he noticed about Bay when he’d seen him leaned up against the bathroom doorjamb.
He finally returned his gaze, and for the first time, he felt the pressure to make conversation. It was uncalled for, because the silence between them thus far had been no issue. But suddenly, he couldn’t help but notice the emptiness in the greenhouse. The string lights, the plants, the warmth, the—fuck—it was romantic as hell, and Travis wasn’t oblivious enough to miss it.
Was he on some kind of weird date that he didn’t even know about?
No, he decided. Bay was an up-front person. If this was a date, he would have come outright and asked Travis.
Pushing the thought to the side, he ignored the silence and instead glanced around the greenhouse casually.
Or so he thought.
“You over there thinkin’ this is a date or something, rock star?” Bay asked with a barely concealed grin.
Heat rushed to his cheeks and he glanced away. “Is it?”
“Do you want it to be?” he countered.
Travis thought of the reason he’d left the city. “Honestly… no.”
Maybe he imagined the twitch of his eyebrow, the blush on his cheeks. But just in case the disappointment wasn’t part of his imagination, he continued, “I’m sure you heard that I garnered myself quite a reputation back in L.A.”
Rock Star Turned Party Boy.
“The headlines do love you,” he responded with a smirk, but avoided his gaze.
Travis twined his fingers together and leaned forward onto his forearms. “Yeah… so. Totally off record, I only did all of that so the label would drop me. They wanted to—wait, this is kind of a long story, is that okay?”
Bay nodded, putting Travis’s fears to rest, and he forcibly ignored the way his chest tightened.
“Once the first photos got leaked, the label wanted to contain it, pretend it never happened. But I didn’t want them to sweep it under the rug. I didn’t want them to sweep me under the rug, and the fact that they were so adamant on erasing that part of me—” Travis exhaled sharply, anger stirring through him at the memory. “I wanted to make it such a shit show that they couldn’t ignore it. Don’t get me wrong, I was no stranger to a party even before I got outed, but the fact that I was gay and out partying every night… they got so frustrated they dropped me. But I don’t want to… I mean, I’m not looking to…” Travis motioned between the two of them, unable to conjure the words he needed.
Bay simply nodded. “If all of that was an act, then why did you get wasted at the bar the first night you were here?”
It was a fair question, and Travis ran his hand through his hair in frustration with himself.
“I didn’t mean to. Which I know sounds lame as hell. I left L.A. to get away from the party scene, the random hookups, all of it. But I’d found another headline and it pissed me off.”
Bay chewed on his bottom lip, but the smirk he offered tugged it away from his bite. “Party life isn’t so easy to let go of, huh?”
Travis snorted a dry laugh and folded his arms. “No, I guess not. But I want to try.”
“You didn’t have any friends that wanted to help?”
Shaking his head, Travis dropped his hands into his lap and cupped his hands together. “No, no I didn’t. Real friends in the industry are actually very rare. Someone always wants… something.” He waved a hand through the air. “I sound like such a buzzkill. Let’s change the subject.”
But as he tried to come up with something new to talk about, all his thoughts were derailed to questions about Bailey.
“I grew up in a small town too, and I had to get out as soon as possible. Why is it that you’re still here?”
“I’ll admit it’s not easy having everyone in my business, but it’s unavoidable.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “God, it was a nightmare when I came out.”
Travis stilled, because assuming and hoping were worlds different from knowing. Then the impact of Bailey’s words hit. Small towns were full of gossip, because each person was more interested in another’s life in order to distract them from their own problems. “That must have been hard.”
Travis hadn’t been back to his own home for a reason.
“It was at first, yeah. It wasn’t much of a secret, small town, you know? But no one really had a problem with it. Especially Mom. She’s a saint. I got asked a lot of awkward super-personal questions at first.” Bailey’s dark eyes cut to his with a hint of mirth before it dissolved. “Did your family know before it was blasted in the papers?” he inquired, brows dipped in curiosity and concern.