Nathan swept into the building like he owned it, which was the way he walked into every room, and Eric followed.
Eric looked up, and when he didn’t see any giant spiders or broken boards, he moved farther into the great room. “The spider motel?” It sure had its share of regular-sized spiders, by the looks of things. Elaborate webs hung from every corner and between the posts of the banister going up to the second floor.
“I thought you didn’t like spiders, Ricky.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Okay, sorry. Isn’t it adorable?” Nathan quickly changed the subject, like he always did when he slipped up and used Eric’s childhood nickname. His father and uncles had called him Rick the Chick after he came out, and that killed any love Eric had ever had for the diminutive Ricky.
Nathan flitted around the room, talking about check-in desks and conversation pits and space for an art gallery. Eric found himself warming to the idea, and when he realized that, he stomped his foot, angry at himself.
“Just checking how sturdy the floorboards are.” Eric could feel his cheeks and ears flaming.
Nathan didn’t comment. He just smiled and suggested they go upstairs.