It was rare to have complete silence in Gabriel’s makeshift house.

Without much sound-proofing, it often felt like he heard every ATV or dirt bike, every whine of ambulance or cop car sirens, and even boisterous conversation from Art’s back deck. Hell, he heard a goddamn rooster every morning.

To counteract the noise, he’d installed an old satellite on the side of the shed. It had taken a lot of cursing and a power driver and frequently running inside to check the signal, but it was worth it.

Now, he left the news or an animal documentary on in the background most of the time. Even the low drone kept him company, too. It was heartening at the end of a long, shitty day to have some kind of noise around that wasn’t him talking to himself.

Even the TV couldn’t drown out the distinctive rumble of a certain truck, though. Fucking Chad hadn’t given up visiting him at the stall all week. Was he following Gabriel home now?

Gabriel shut the blinds and braced himself for a rapid-fire, staccato pounding on the door. He refused to turn off the lights and pretend he wasn’t home, but he wasn’t going to let Chad in, either.

Even a minute after the engine shut off, the knock didn’t come.

Gradually, Gabriel relaxed and pulled aside the curtain for a look outside.

Chad was in Art’s house. With Art’s blinds open, he could see the shadowy figures of his cousin and ex-boyfriend moving around in the living room, then sitting in front of the giant TV in his living room.

Huh. It was weird, but not a disappointment.

That was how they’d gotten together, after all. Chad had been friends with Art, and sometimes Gabriel had been at Art’s place while Chad was over. One day it had come out that they were both gay, and… well, one thing led to another.

Maybe Chad had finally remembered to stop ignoring his friends. Gabriel was in favor of that idea. Friendship might distract him from trying to get back in Gabriel’s pants. Especially friendship with Gabe’s own cousin, who wasn’t going to enable him like Chad’s friends.

God, half of Chad’s friends needed boyfriends of their own, the way they rooted for Chad to get back with him. Luckily, Orion hadn’t been with him at the stall when Chad had driven past, his friends hollering from the truck window for Gabriel to give Chad a hand and take him back.

It was almost laughable and, in a weird way, sweet of them to have Chad’s back, whether or not Chad was gay. Gabriel might have really thought so if it hadn’t been so annoying.

Gabriel was left alone, in relative peace and quiet. Books lay open on his flimsy table and battered old couch. His sketchbook had a half-finished project, but he couldn’t bring himself to focus on reading what he needed from his reference books and finishing the plan right now.

Caspian’s words from the last market weekend still lingered in Gabriel’s mind.

What if I did try to make a career out of this?

Gabriel had just started to search for garden planning careers on his laptop—just as old and beaten up as everything else in here—when the truck noise had interrupted his reverie.

With the adrenaline calming, he finally settled back into clicking around the internet as he researched more about the suggestion Cas had made.

It looked like some people made a name by doing custom plans for individuals. Others worked directly with contractors and landscapers. He could do books of designs—a concept book of his very own! God, that sounded amazing.

But he’d need a publisher for that, and at least a scanner for his sketches. Probably real software to mock up the designs, or even backyards to actually put them into practice and take photos.

“Fuck. You can’t get there without experience, and you can’t get experience…” Gabriel trailed off with a sigh. It was the greatest job market conundrum, and the exact same one that had held him back in this town for all these years.

How the hell were other people his age breaking out of it? Or were they just moving out and slowly drowning in debt while they scrambled to find careers? Or had they gone into real STEM fields to rake in the money? Probably, the jerks.

Gabriel let himself feel sorry for himself for another minute before he pulled himself out of it and dug up a phone number for Caspian.

“Cas here.”

“Hey,” Gabriel greeted. “It’s Gabe. I was thinking about what you said the other weekend about my sketches.”

“Oh yeah! And?” Cas prompted.

“Um, well… you might be better placed than me. Do you know anyone in town doing gardening contracting or something like that? Is there even anyone here who does that? I mean, my farm connections aren’t exactly helpful here.” Gabriel sighed.

“Yeah! Of course. Let me figure out who I know,” Cas said. “It’s great to see you getting out there.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Gabriel admitted. “I don’t have a lot of real-life experience. It’s just been a hobby for years. But if I can apprentice, or figure out some way to learn where I won’t cost a company money if I screw up with the wrong kind of trees or something…”

“Right, right.” Cas sounded enthusiastic, which surprised Gabriel. He hadn’t thought they were that close friends. “I can come over and we can hash it out?”

“Oh, nah,” Gabriel said quickly, wincing as he looked around his place. “I won’t bother you at this hour. How about coffee after the market this week?”

“That works for me.” Cas smiled. “At Grind?”

“You’re on. Thanks very much,” Gabriel said, hanging up and pumping his fist in the air. With Cas helping, he had twice the chance to figure out a way to turn this into a business of his own. His spirits were lighter than they had been for days.

Maybe this was a way out, to the big city at last. If a certain guy was also leaving Hidden Creek for Houston and that motivated Gabriel to get off his ass and figure out his future, nobody else had to know.

That would stay between him and his half-baked fantasies about roaring out of town with a man like Orion by his side.