Pumpkin Spice and Everything Nice

by Hayden Hunt

  “Here you go.” I placed the card into the flowers and handed him the vase. “Make sure he gets it, okay?”

  “Will do.” He smiled.

  I spent the rest of the afternoon doing some inventory work and ordering ribbons and other supplies we were low on. I closed up shop at 1 pm, as we always did. We took an hour for lunch every day.

  Which was never a problem, being the small flower boutique that we were. We didn’t have a very big stream of customers, and we were pretty low key. But we managed to stay afloat because we were the most expensive flower shop in town.

  And for good reason. We had the highest quality flowers and the most intricate arrangements. Artistically, no other shop in town matched us. So for our more affluent clients, it was worth it to come to us instead of the other shops just for the aesthetic. And I was sure bragging rights helped. People loved showing off their wealth and we were definitely branded as the expensive flower shop.

  After closing for our hour lunch, I went home for the day. There was no point not to; it would be my parents who later opened it back up for the evening. Which was another perk of my job—I only worked half days.

  On my way up to my apartment, I could feel my heart starting to pound. I had to stop by my new neighbor’s place and I had no idea how it was going to go. But at the same time, I was desperate to get this done. I wanted to know if the conflict was resolved or not.

  I knocked on the door nervously, fidgeting and tapping my foot as I waited for him to answer.

  When he came to the door, he was looking as cute as last night but noticeably more tired. Shit, I hoped I hadn’t continued to be loud and keep him up all night. If so, this conversation probably wasn’t going to go my way no matter what I did. Even though I honestly did tell my friends to shut up after that and carefully monitored how loud we were speaking.

  “Hey there.” I smiled. “I just wanted to drop by and apologize for last night.”

  “Oh, no.” He shook his head. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’m sorry. I really overreacted. I hope you know I’m not usually like that. I’m not a total dick.”

  I was relieved to hear him say that. Good, so it sounded like this wouldn’t be much of a conflict at all!

  “Oh, it was totally understandable! I really should be more quiet. Like I said, the old lady that used to live here really never said anything so it was not something I thought about. But I will in the future.”

  He cringed at hearing this and I got a little nervous again. Shit, I shouldn’t have brought her up once more. He probably thought I was trying to say I’d rather have her back again. I quickly changed the subject.

  “Did you get my flowers?” I asked.

  “Your flowers?” he questioned, looking completely surprised. “You sent that bouquet?”

  “Yeah, to apologize for last night. Sorry, I would have included my name but I hadn’t told you it yet.” I extended my hand for a shake. “I’m Oliver.”

  “Hey, Oliver,” he answered. “I’m Gabe. Nice to meet you. And thank you for the flowers, but it was really, truly not necessary.”

  “Oh, it was no problem at all. The least I could do for keeping you up last night.”

  “Seriously, you didn’t have to do anything. You were very polite and I was being an ass. And it looked like an expensive bouquet. I feel guilty you felt you needed to do that.”

  “Don’t!” I said quickly. “It was no trouble at all, seriously. I’m actually a florist so it cost me nothing. Well, technically the cost of the flowers, but that isn’t much.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Florist, huh? That’s not something you hear every day. I don’t think I’ve ever met a florist.”

  “We’re a dying breed.” I smiled.

  “Does that mean you actually put that bouquet together?”

  “Oh, yes! And I really enjoyed doing it.”

  “Well, I enjoy looking at it. You did an amazing job.” He paused, as if thinking. “Uh, the place is still a mess and covered in boxes, but would you like to come in for some tea or something?”

  “I’d love to!”

  19

  Gabriel

  I didn’t know why I invited him in. That was so unlike me. But I don’t know, he seemed really nice and I could have used a friend. At the very least, I could make sure my relationship with my neighbors wasn’t awful.

  I was embarrassed, though, so it wasn’t the best timing. I had to keep myself from blushing or allowing my face to show confusion. That wasn’t where I thought the bouquet came from at all. It was so extravagant, it never even crossed my mind that he’d send that just to say sorry about talking too loud.

  Of course, I shouldn’t have been embarrassed. He had no idea that I had confused the flower delivery. But I still felt so stupid, crying for hours over a flower delivery that was actually about a noise complaint.

  I was damn glad now that I didn't toss those flowers, though.

  “Is green tea fine?” I asked him. Thankfully, I had gotten the kitchen unpacked yesterday.

  “Green tea is perfect, thanks so much,” he said as he sat at my dining room table. “And thanks for being so great about this.”

  “No problem at all. Like I said, I was the only one who had anything to apologize for.” I put a tea kettle on the stove and grabbed some mugs for us. “So, florist, huh? How’d you get into that?”

  “Oh, it’s a family business, actually. Both my parents were florists; they have their own shop in town and I followed in the family footsteps.”

  “So, you enjoy it, then?”

  “Absolutely. It really satisfies that creative desire I have, you know?”

  I didn’t know. I had no creative desires. I couldn’t so much as take a photograph without somehow getting a blurry shot or having my thumb in the frame. There was no artistic bone in my body. But I nodded as if I could relate, anyway.

  “So, what do you do?”

  “I’m an office manager at a dental practice, actually.”

  “Oh, that’s great! Very professional. A manager at your age, huh? That’s wonderful!” He paused. “Wait, I’m kind of assuming here because I don’t know your age but I’m guessing mid-twenties.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, I’m twenty-six. What about you?”

  “Twenty-seven,” he answered. “So just a year apart, then?”

  “Sounds like,” I said as I grabbed the red tea kettle, which was now screeching on the stove, and poured it into our mugs, where I had already placed a bag of tea.

  “Thank you,” he said as I handed him his mug.

  “But yeah, it does pay the bills,” I continued. “How do you like this complex, by the way?”

  “Love it!” he said eagerly. “It feels safe, there are no obnoxious people living in here that I’ve noticed, obviously the apartments are sized pretty nicely.” He motioned to the living room and kitchen, which were pretty large for a place of this price. “It’s great, you’ll love it here.”

  “I hope so.” I nodded. “This will actually be my first time living without a roommate so, you know, I’m feeling like I’m finally adulting now.”

  He laughed. “And what brings you to these apartments in particular?”

  I tried to hide the discomfort on my face. “Just… fate, I guess,” I said.

  It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

  “Well, I’m sure you’re going to love it. Do you have many friends in this town? I don’t know how far your commute is for work.”

  “About 40 minutes now and, no, no friends in this town.”

  Actually, no friends in any town, but he didn’t need to know that little detail.

  “Well, you know, I have a get together with some of my friends every Wednesday. You’re welcome to come over, maybe meet some new people.”

  “That would be great, actually. Thank you”!

  Normally I wouldn’t find this great at all. I had no idea what was coming over me. But all of a sudden, I just felt the need to socia
lize. Maybe it was because of how depressed I’d been feeling. I was eager to break out of this shell of numbness, if that was even possible.

  Though I suspected it was. For the few minutes I’d been talking to Oliver, I actually was feeling a lot better. A little more out of my head, I guess you could say.

  Oliver glanced around the room. “Do you need any help unpacking?” he asked politely.

  God, this guy was nice. Why had I been such a jack ass last night?

  “No, I’ll be fine. I actually really enjoy this kind of thing. I’m kind of type-A.” I left out the fact that I wasn’t feeling very type-A at the moment.

  “Really? God, I hate that. I hate cleaning, hate organizing, my mind is just not designed for that kind of thing. I avoid it at all costs.”

  “Then why did you just offer?” I teased.

  “To be a friendly neighbor, of course,” he said with a cheeky smile.

  Was he flirting with me? That was kind of what it felt like, but I couldn’t be sure.

  As reserved as I was, I was no stranger to flirting. At least, I was used to women hitting on me. I didn’t really reciprocate. But without sounding too conceited, I knew I was an attractive guy. So it happened.

  But I didn’t know. I’d never been the type to pursue a relationship. I hadn’t found anybody who really caught my attention. And if you didn’t feel enthusiastic about being with someone, what was the point?

  Realistically, relationships were hard. They involved a lot of compromise, a lot of consideration for your partner’s needs and feelings. And I’d never met someone worth altering my life for. So I was polite when women came up and flirted with me, while trying to be clear that they were pretty much wasting their time.

  The look that Oliver was giving me now reminded me of the looks I got from flirty women. Who knew, maybe he was gay and he actually was flirting.

  The weird thing was, this actually felt a little fun for me. Usually when a woman hit on me, I got kind of bored and uncomfortable with the situation. But now I found myself smiling back, trying to think of something clever to say in response.

  But I wasn’t gay. I wasn’t into men. I decided that a long time ago. My positive reception to his flirtation said nothing about my sexuality. I was completely straight.

  I was probably just responding positively because of how bad I felt today. Yeah, that had to be it. This was the first positive encounter I’d had with someone in weeks. The loneliness was probably getting to me.

  Still, I didn’t want to give him the impression I was gay too. So I didn’t flirt back. Actually, as soon as I got that twinge of happiness at his smile, I started to become a little uncomfortable. I should probably shut this down before he got any of the wrong ideas.

  “Well, I should probably get back to packing,” I said awkwardly.

  “Oh.” The disappointment on his face was clear. “Well, okay then, I’ll leave you to it,” he said, setting his cup of tea down and walking toward the door. “But if you want to come on Wednesday, just drop on by.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded as I opened up the door for him. “I’ll think about it.”

  It was a complete 180 from what I had said a little while ago, that I was thankful for the invite. But I couldn’t help but show my reluctance. My discomfort was oozing in my voice but I couldn’t control it.

  “Have a nice night,” he said as he walked away.

  “You too,” I told him before shutting the door.

  Damnit, had I just been rude a second time?

  I knew I wasn’t a complete asshole like I had been last night. But this guy apologized, sent me flowers, and offered to help me unpack, and I shooed him out the door?

  And no doubt he could see the sudden shift in my mood. He seemed like the kind of person who was perceptive to that kind of thing.

  He probably wasn’t even flirting with me. I bet I was being oversensitive to his kindness because of my history. But that wasn’t an excuse to take it out on him. He probably wasn’t even really gay!

  My first instinct was to tell myself I wouldn’t be going to that get together. Obviously it was out of my comfort zone. And I liked to stay in that zone at all costs.

  But after I was just rude again, I probably should go, I thought. Make it clear that there was no awkwardness between us. And clearly, if I was intrigued by thinking a man was flirting with me, then I needed to do something about my obvious loneliness.

  So I’d fight my discomfort. I’d go his house on Wednesday, meet some of his friends, get out of my shell a bit.

  What was the worst that could happen?

  20

  Oliver

  Damnit, I had done exactly what I told myself I wouldn’t. I had flirted with my cute neighbor and made him very uncomfortable in the process.

  See, I knew it would be bad news to get romantically involved with someone who lived next door. But really, I wasn't even planning to have any romantic involvement. I just couldn’t help myself. He was cute, he seemed like he thought I was cute, and the flirting just happened!

  I’d been told I had a naturally flirty personality anyway. But throw me in front of one of the cutest guys I’d ever seen? I was bound to slip up.

  Ugh, and the apology had been going so well too! He seemed excited to come hang out with me and my friends, I actually thought that I’d be able to have a pretty positive relationship with this new neighbor.

  But I screwed the pooch on that one. Ah, oh well, maybe with a little time he’d forget about my flirting if I stayed on my best behavior.

  Still, I hated it when straight guys acted like that. If a woman hit on them, they got all excited even if they weren’t into her. It was a boost to their ego. But for some reason, if a man found them attractive, it was the complete opposite! It hurted their ego. As if my gayness was somehow an insult to their masculinity. It was really pretty insulting.

  Later in the week I ended up being grateful that I had somewhat pissed off my neighbor, though. On Tuesday night, I went a little wild and drank way too much. I had a huge hangover on Wednesday morning and decided to cancel the weekly get together. I was feeling too shitty.

  If things had gone well with my neighbor and I believed he might still show up, I would have felt obligated to host tonight despite feeling like crap. At least this way, I was off the hook. None of my friends were going to care about my cancellation; most of them were out with me last night and probably nursing their own hangovers.

  Thankfully, I didn’t ever work Wednesdays. So after texting my friends in the morning that tonight was a no go, I ordered in some Chinese food and collapsed onto my black leather couch. It was a television marathon kind of day for me. There were a few shows I was behind on that I wanted to binge watch.

  Normally, I wasn’t big on spending my days alone. I liked interacting with other people whenever possible, even if that included only going to the flower shop and talking to clients.

  But today was actually a really nice day by myself. I had my food, I was drinking a ton of water, and I was starting to feel a lot better when the evening rolled around. I was thoroughly enjoying basking in the glow of my lazy day.

  Which was why I was still in my pajamas when I heard a knock on my apartment door later that night. I hadn't so much as combed my hair, so I ran a few fingers through it before going to answer the door.

  To my shock, it was Gabe. He was standing at my door, holding a bottle of wine, clearly expecting to meet some people, and here I was, standing before him in my pajamas with leftover Chinese food on the table.

  Shit.

  If I hadn’t made a bad enough impression yesterday, I surely had now.

  He looked around my apartment, clearly seeing there was nobody around. Confusion crossed his face.

  “I’m sorry, you said to come over Wednesday, right…? Did I get the day wrong or—”

  “Oh, no, you didn’t, I… Uh, it’s kind of a long story. Something happened with one of my friends and we kind of had to cancel,” I lied. I didn
’t know why; in my head it sounded better than ‘I was hungover.’

  “Oh, okay,” he said, looking somewhat disappointed.

  “I’m so sorry, I would have let you know, but I completely forgot I mentioned it to you.”

  No, I hadn’t. But again, that sounded better than ‘I assumed me hitting on you pissed you off and that you wouldn’t show up.’ I didn’t want to specifically address the awkwardness between us the other day.

  “You know, I know I’m not exactly dressed for company but you can still hang out if you want. If you have nothing else to do. You don’t have to, I know it’s no get together but we can watch some TV and crack open that bottle of wine.”

  “Yeah, sure. That sounds great.”

  He totally caught me off guard. First, by coming over here at all. And then again by agreeing to hang out, just me and him?

  Maybe I had really misread him the other night. Perhaps I didn’t scare him off with my flirting. At least, this wasn’t how most straight men would react to their masculinity being threatened. He might have really been in a rush to unpack, who knew?

  “Do you have a wine bottle opener?” he asked as he stepped into my apartment.

  “Of course, one second,” I said, going into one of my kitchen drawers and handing it to him. I was glad he was the first one to suggest opening it up so quick. I was pretty nervous about this whole thing, and a little alcohol would help.

  Apparently he was on the same page as me, because after I grabbed two glasses of wine and poured them, he downed his glass immediately. I wasn’t the only one who needed a little liquid courage.

  I laughed. “Another glass?” I asked.

  “Yes, please.” He smiled and held out his glass.

  I also drank my glass fairly quickly. It probably wasn’t very responsible of me to drink at all. Just a few hours ago, I was reeling from a hangover. But I told myself I’d take it easy tonight. And a little alcohol helped a hangover, right? This glass of wine would be like my Bloody Mary.