Rhys found himself jogging to JJ’s Fresh Foods almost on autopilot. He usually loved starting his Hidden Creek day chatting with Mason. But it sounded like Mason wanted to have a ‘serious talk’ with Rhys, who’d decided the adult thing to do was run away at the first chance.

Rhys wished he had a bottle of water on him as he stopped his jog, waiting to cross the street. The headache from his hangover compounded his bad mood. He decided to grab water first, maybe something for breakfast if anything in the store caught his eye.

As the big ceiling fan at the entrance blasted him with cool air, Rhys’s fear clicked into place.

The call with his parents yesterday was a stark reminder that he’d be leaving. He had a whole career lined up for him. He wanted to stay circling Mason, living in a happy zone of possibilities.

That was why he’d run away. He didn’t want those possibilities to vanish with a talk from Mason.

As Rhys looked over the fresh produce, he began considering things from Mason’s point of view. He had genuinely wanted to spend time with Rhys. Wasn’t that what friends did? If only Rhys had figured this all out when they were talking, not fifteen minutes after the fact.

Not for the first time he looked back at his college days, a bitter taste in his mouth. Why couldn’t he have found people to make friends with there? He was so out of practice he was messing everything up with Mason.

He pulled out his cell, quickly typing up a text to Mason.

Hey dude, sorry I ran away earlier. Hungover Rhys is apparently also a flighty Rhys. I know you just wanted to spend some bro-time together. I’ll make us dinner tonight, and we can catch up. It’ll be ready at 8 on the dot.

Rhys sent the message as soon as possible. Otherwise, he’d spend the next half hour second-guessing every single word. He was already regretting the phrase ‘bro-time.’

He grabbed a cool can of orange soda from the fridge, the condensation making his hand slick, before heading over toward the deli section. They might have something ready-made he could grab for breakfast.

He had barely made it two aisles before his phone buzzed in his pocket. He unlocked it lightning fast, reading Mason’s reply.

No worries man! I just got excited and wanted to make the most of our time. How about I do 8am-8pm weekdays, but then 9-5 Saturday, 10-4 Sunday. It’ll give me a bit of a break, and we can make the most before you head back out on Monday?

Rhys reread the message several times. ‘The most of our time’ — what did that mean?

Was this why Mason had wanted to talk before he ran off? Figure out what they were even doing.

Maybe Rhys could just head back and ask him?

But he knew Mason would be busy downstairs. And they’d already agreed on dinner together at eight. Rhys would just have to wait until then to figure it all out.

Sounds like a solid plan heading forward! It’s too cold to do anything after 8 anyway, so we can do dinners then from now on. I’m glad I found a friend here in Hidden Creek.

Rhys looked over the end of his text, wondering if it sounded too cheesy. He shrugged, then hit send.

It was true. He and Mason were becoming friends. He’d even seen Rhys drunk last night, and even though Rhys couldn’t remember at all what he’d said, he was still happy to hang out with him.

Why had Rhys drunk so much last night? He failed to remember.

Rhys pocketed his phone as he finally looked at the display he was standing next to. A big sign at the top told him it was everything he needed for a picnic. Premium cuts of cold meats from the deli. Little bottles of wine, matched perfectly with different types of cheese underneath. Disposable plates and plastic cutlery.

Maybe on Sunday they could head out for a picnic in Moore Wood? Food under those Christmas lights would be wonderful. The sun set around six, so they’d have a couple hours after the store closed up shop for the day.

Was that too much like a date, though?

Rhys gasped out loud, suddenly remembering why he’d really started drinking so hard last night.

He’d been trying to guess Mason’s sexuality.

Was Mason interested in him at all? Or was Rhys reading into friendship feelings too much? This was his first adult friend in his life, he could be easily confused.

Rhys bolted from the display, heading straight to grab some eggs. He would come up with an idea for dinner later, for now, he needed sugar and protein.

After paying, he bagged his groceries and made his way back to Mason’s. He tried to remember any of his conclusions from last night. He knew Mason didn’t have a girlfriend. But so did millions of straight people. He went to an LGBT-friendly gym, but he’d already proven himself an ally.

Rhys came to a sudden halt, a block away from Mason’s Body Shop.

Had he shared any of this with Mason last night?

He barely remembered the taxi home. And had no memory of seeing Mason last night.

Was that another reason Mason was so keen for them to spend time together tonight? To let Rhys down gently? Or for something else?

Rhys grunted in frustration, opening his can of orange soda and drinking half the contents in one gulp. After his flower makeover, things between him and Mason had been great. Several cosmos later, and Rhys had messed everything up.

He took another sip from his soda, carrying on down the street. He couldn’t hide outside of the shop all day.

A couple minutes later, he came back into the garage, the giant fans on the ceiling spinning on medium. Matt sat on the customer couch, looking through his phone while Mason was under the hood of his car.

Matt brightened up as Rhys entered.

“There he is! Mason was just telling me about your trip to Phoenix last night,” Matt said.

Rhys froze, his can of orange soda raised to take a sip.

Shit. What did Mason tell him? What did I say?

“Haha, yeah,” Rhys eventually stammered. He could feel warmth in his cheeks and hoped he wasn’t blushing from embarrassment.

“Well, you’d spent the whole day out on the beat. You deserved to let off some steam,” Mason lifted himself out from under the hood. His back cracked, echoing throughout the sparse floor as he turned to face Rhys.

Rhys looked up at Mason, trying to read his face. Why did his face have to be so stunning?

He was smiling at Rhys as usual, but his eyes somehow looked different. More concerned? Secretly angry? Trying to figure out what Rhys knew?

What the hell did I say last night?

“Glad we’re gonna hang out tonight,” Mason finally said.

How long had Rhys been standing there in silence?

“Yeah.” Rhys broke eye contact, glancing down at his bag. “Think I’m gonna spend the day recovering.” Even though he’d slept until ten, he still felt exhausted.

“Sounds like a plan, my man,” Mason replied before hustling back under the hood of Matt’s car.

Rhys paused, wondering what Mason had meant by ‘my man.’ Did he mean it in the usual dude-bro way, or did he deep down want Rhys to be his man?

Rhys made his way to the end of the garage, jogging up the stairs faster than necessary. He got himself into Mason’s apartment, greeted by Socket sitting on her usual kitchen island spot.

“Oh, hey. What’s up?” Rhys asked.

“Meow.” Rhys knew she was just a cat, but her meow sounded an awful lot like ‘Are you trying to seduce my owner, human?’

He knew it was typical introvert behavior, getting along better with pets than humans. But pets had never shoved him into a locker. Never spiked his food with laxatives.

“I don’t know, Socket,” Rhys truthfully replied.

“Meow.” She began licking her paw. ‘Do you want to?’

“I mean…” Rhys had done everything he could not to think about that. Walked the streets of Hidden Creek two days in a row. Not even tried to jerk off after his first disastrous attempt. “I don’t know! He’s the first guy I’ve met who’s been this nice to me!”

Rhys put his bag of eggs on the counter, beginning to pace.

“We just talk so easily. I feel like I could tell him almost anything. He got me water last night, offered me his couch before that. I know he cares about me, but does he care about me romantically? Is he even capable of caring about me like that?”

Rhys thought back to his old next-door neighbor, Michelle Stewart.

The grade below him at school, on his fourteenth birthday, she’d set up a big surprise. She snuck him out of his birthday party up to her room, lit with candles and a blanket on her bed.

When she’d kissed him, Rhys had literally crawled out from under her, sprinted from her house, and hid under his bed covers for the next two days. He heard later she’d spent the whole weekend in her room crying.

He’d felt so mortified making her feel so sad. When he was fifteen and saw Chris Evans topless in Captain America, he finally understood he was physically incapable of romantic feelings for women.

But he’d still felt so guilty putting Michelle Stewart through such anguish.

Rhys grunted in frustration. Heading over to the stove, he pulled cream and milk from the fridge to start his eggs.

“Meow,” Socket protested. ‘You could always ask him.’

“Yeah, that’ll work out great. ‘Hey Mason, quick question, are you gay? Oh, no reason to bring that up at all!’ Dammit!” Rhys had thrown in half a shell with his eggs. He fished it out with a fork, throwing it in the trash. “If only there was some kind of thing we could do, just to get to know each other better. Like a ‘getting to know you’ evening.”

Once more he thought of his parents ‘pier-tier’ first date, his mom and dad talking for hours under the stars, getting to know each other so well.

As Rhys cracked another egg into the pan, he noticed Mason was running low on vegetable oil. The bottle next to the stove was almost empty. Did he have another, or was he completely out? Rhys could grab another bottle from JJ’s later if that was the case. After looking in all the cupboards, he thought it best to check the back storage room.

Rhys opened the door, popping his head into the room. The washing machine sat to one side, shelves the other. Rhys saw no vegetable oil there, mainly bits and bobs that didn’t belong anywhere else in the house.

He was surprised to see another door at the end of the room, with what looked like sunlight creeping in at the edges.

Rhys popped out of the storage room, turning the heat down on to minimum on his eggs.

“Meow?” Socket asked. ‘What is that?’

“I don’t know, Socket,” he replied, approaching this mysterious door. There was a key in the lock. Rhys turned it, the door clicking open. There was a set of concrete stairs, another door at the top. Was this access to the roof?

Rhys jogged up the stairs. Another key was in the lock at the top. Mason must have left them there in case of emergency.

He opened the door, instantly caught in a chilly breeze and nearly blinded by the harsh sunlight. The roof of the building was barren, an old TV antenna in one corner, venting unit the other. But the view was great. Rhys looked at the grand vista. He could see JJ’s Fresh Foods with ease, somehow looking closer when he was this high up. He strained his eyes further and could just make out Grind on Victory Boulevard as well.

Rhys looked at the barren roof. A few flowers and he could make this place look lovely.

“Meow!” Socket rubbed herself against Rhys’s leg, her eyes widening to their largest as they looked around. ‘I had no idea the apartment was this big up here.’

“Let’s get you inside, kitty.” Rhys gingerly picked up Socket, who went limp in his arms.

Rhys saw that as a good sign of trust as he closed the door to the roof behind him.

“A date,” he said, closing the bottom door to the stairs. “That’s what you do when you want to get to know someone better.”

Rhys looked up at the door. The roof at night, with a couple lights, some blankets, maybe even some more flowers. That would make a great first date location. Maybe even ‘pier-tier’ levels of great.

“No, not a date. A ‘getting to know you better’ event.” Rhys corrected himself out loud.

And if it happened to turn into a date, who was he to protest?