by Andy Gallo
Nico: Elliott did this. Have him find the hotel. He knows the city better than I do.
“Thank you. Come see us again.” Nico handed the bag to the customer and moved away from the register.
It had taken five minutes to figure out what Esposito’s had for sale and where to find things. Vito, an employee who must have been with them since Guido Esposito opened the shop a hundred years ago, ran the register.
Business had been steady, heavy even, leaving no time to consider what to do about Luke. He tried to sort it out on the walk to the market, but that left him more confused than settled. The mild flirting, the little touches, making out when buzzed, those pointed toward Luke liking Nico. Countering that was Kent.
In Nico’s book, the guy sucked big time. Pig slut was too nice an insult. Luke, however, still saw the good times. The moments when Kent had come through for him, even when he had his own problems. He knew from experience those things were hard for the heart to forget.
And Luke hadn’t. Not even close.
Outwardly, Luke showed anger toward his ex, but as soon as a text from Kent arrived, he rushed to answer. Nico couldn’t compete with that. No one could.
And even if Nico could . . . would Luke still like the other him? The colorful him who loved the flair for the dramatic. Who missed his designer clothes—blazers, scarfs, and shoes—God, his shoes.
He’d trusted that Tomas liked him. The first guy in forever he actually thought dug him for him, and look how that had turned out.
Why should he expect things to turn out differently with Luke?
Nico pinched his nose. He should stop this wildly-out-of-control crush on Luke. He was afraid the next nice thing Luke did, the next kind thing he said, Nico would do something stupid.
“Hey, kid.”
Nico plastered on his fake smile and turned toward the older man. “Whatcha need, Vito?”
“Nothing, kid.” He smiled like he was Zio Vito. “I just wanted to say I’m impressed. You’re pretty good at selling.”
“I’ve worked at my family’s bakery since I was twelve. Nonno was an amazing teacher.”
“Your family owns a bakery? Which one? Does Rocco know?”
Nico admired the loyalty. “Rocco knows. That’s why he hired me. I already know the goods.”
Vito rubbed his chin as if he couldn’t wrap his head around what he’d heard. “You do know what we’re selling.”
Better than Vito, if he had to guess. Nico could make anything in the display case. Had made everything at one time or another. “Thanks. Nonno and Papà taught me everything they know.”
“What bakery?”
“Amato’s in New York.”
“Never heard of ’em. Are you guys any good?”
He wanted to say they were the third-biggest Italian bakery in the country, but it probably wouldn’t go over well. Vito was loyal, and Nico might have to work with him again. “Not bad. But not as good as Esposito’s.”
Vito gave him the horns. “You’re a smooth talker. And you’re doing so well, you don’t need me up there. Let’s me rest my legs.”
A customer walked up, saving Nico from responding. He was fine with handling all the customers, even if he was earning half of Vito’s paycheck for him. It gave him an outlet to avoid thinking about Luke.
Reality, however, was going to come crashing back in about fifteen minutes when his shift ended.
He flicked open the bag, put two sweet rolls inside, and decided he’d deal with Luke when it was time. Not a minute before.
Luke
Coury: You did what?
Luke: It’s complicated.
Coury: That’s one word for it.
Luke: You’re not helping.
Luke had held Nico last night. Maybe most of the night.
He didn’t remember how it happened, hadn’t meant for it to happen. But. There had been that dream. That very sexy dream. Where Nico had rolled atop him, had kissed him hard, had whispered in Luke’s ear as he’d groped Luke’s dick and—
Luke scrubbed his flushed face.
Nico was kind to call him a gentleman, because the things they did in that dream were far from gentlemanly.
Luke picked up his phone for the . . . he lost track of how many times it had been—checking for a message. Still nothing.
Nico said he was only working four hours. His shift should have ended three hours ago, so where was he? Damn, Luke hated not being able to read Nico better.
“Stop.” He exhaled slowly.
They were roommates and friends, not boyfriends. Nico didn’t need to check in with him. Moreover, Nico wouldn’t think Luke expected that. Because he shouldn’t. They. Were. Friends.
Luke glanced at the table, set for two. So much for surprising Nico with lunch. Probably too much anyway.
Whatever he didn’t eat, he could take for lunch tomorrow.
Mrs. R had recommended the deli two blocks over. They had the best Italian hoagie with the works in walking distance. Evidently if one wanted to drive, better could be had, but these were plenty good enough. She didn’t seem the type to do much walking, so he bought an extra one and dropped it off on his way upstairs.
Just like Nico would have done.
The door opened behind him, and he swiveled around.
Nico entered the room, gaze sweeping from him to the table. He halted abruptly.
Luke’s palms sweated.
“Oh. Are you expecting company?” Nico shifted the bag in his left hand, his shoulders seemingly deflating. “Give me a few minutes to change and I’ll, ah, get out of your way.”
“What? No, wait!” Luke quick-stepped across the room.
Nico froze as his eyes darted from the table to Luke, and he shrank back from him. “Yes?”
“I thought I’d surprise you with lunch after your first day at the bakery. Kinda like you made me dinner after my first day of work.”
A cautious frown broke over Nico’s expression, growing deeper as he looked from Luke to the table and back again.
Luke shifted, jamming his hands into his pockets. “You already ate, right?”
“Actually, no,” Nico said slowly. “I ended up staying later because the person who was supposed to replace me didn’t show.” He held up the bag. “A thank-you gift from Rocco.”
“I hope he also paid you money for the extra hours.”
That comment kicked Nico out of whatever wary thoughts he’d been having. “Of course. I don’t work for cannolis. Even as kids, Nonno paid us when we helped at the shop.”
“That’s good. That you got paid.”
Luke stumbled for what to say. Clearly Nico seemed apprehensive about the lunch.
Was Nico worrying Luke was coming on to him?
Of course he was.
How could he not after the way they’d woken this morning?
“It’s just lunch,” Luke said, when Nico stared at the table again.
Nico snapped toward him. “Right. Sure. Just lunch. That you waited until”—he tapped the screen of his watch—“three thirty-five for me to eat?”
Luke cursed himself for foisting an uncomfortable situation on Nico. He tried shrugging it off. “Like you say, it’s no fun to eat alone.”
It’s no fun to eat alone?
That’s what Luke went with?
He was an idiot.
He bowed his head as Nico put the bag in the kitchen. Then Nico brushed past, hesitated, and whispered a kiss over Luke’s cheek. “Let me clean up, and I’ll be right back.”
Nico beelined to their bedroom, and Luke’s hand drifted to his cheek.
What did that mean?
Luke and Nico played a game of gaze-tag over lunch. Taking turns catching the other looking and hurriedly refocusing on their hoagies.
Luke didn’t bring up the kiss to his cheek, or last night, but the weight of it grew with every bite.
When they finished their sandwiches, they looked longingly at their empty plates.
“That was so good,�
� Nico said energetically. As if to break the tension. “Great call by Mrs. R.”
“I was worried it wouldn’t live up to your New York standards.”
Nico finished his water and reached for the pitcher. “Truth? Delis don’t make their own prosciutto, capicola, salami, or provolone. They all buy from the same places. So long as they use quality meats and good bread—and this place does—they’re all going to taste about the same.”
Luke smiled at the slight hesitation in Nico’s voice when he pronounced “prosciutto.” “Yeah, but since New York delis used gabagool and brahjzoot, I was worried these would be disappointing.”
Glass to his lips, Nico spit-laughed. Water came out his nose, and he coughed so hard he put a hand on the table to brace himself.
“Look up.” Luke pointed to the ceiling, smiling. “I have it on good authority that works.”
Nico tilted his head back and slowly gained control. When he stopped coughing, he looked into his glass and frowned. “Well, I’m not drinking that.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be, that was hilarious.” Nico grabbed a clean glass and snatched the dish towel from the rack. “Next time warn me when you’re going to toss my idiosyncrasies back at me.”
“That would ruin the effect.”
“Brat.” Nico refilled both their glasses and took his seat. “Let’s have dessert.”
Nico pulled two cannolis from the white wax-treated bag and put one each on two plates. “These are a rare treat.”
“What? Did Rocco make ’em with special filling?”
“Eww.” Nico’s face squished up like he’d eaten something foul. “Do not ever go there again.”
Luke laughed. “Why are they so rare?”
“They were free.”
“Why is that so rare? Do they always make you pay for them?”
“Almost always, yes. I mean, if you worked for Macy’s, would they give you a shirt if you asked?”
Luke snorted. “Clearly you had that canned answer ready. Had this discussion before?”
“Many times. New employees almost always ask for a free pastry, especially at the end of the day if we have a lot left over.” Nico’s tongue darted out over the tip of his thumb and he licked off a splotch of cream.
The image went straight to Luke’s groin. He shifted in his seat. “That makes total sense.”
“This might not be the best time to ask this, since I’m plying you with utter perfection, but Elliott asked my parents and grandparents to come to dinner in Philly next weekend. His family lives in the suburbs.” Nico snuck a peek over his cannoli and averted his eyes quickly. “He invited us too.”
“Us? I thought your sister knew there isn’t a real us?” Yet. Ever?
“She does, and so does Elliott, I think.” He set his cannoli down. “My parents asked if you were invited and Elisa didn’t know how to answer that, so she said yes.”
“Oh.” So Nico was calling in his favor? “Next weekend?”
“Yeah.” Squaring his shoulders, Nico looked Luke in the eye. “But no pressure. Really. If it feels weird, say no. My family won’t think it’s weird if you’re not there.”
If he didn’t need to bring a date, why was Nico asking? “So you’re not calling in your favor?”
“No, this isn’t a ‘favor’, it’s just a favor.” Nico shrugged, and they both laughed. “I love my family, but I could use a friend to hang with. If you can make it, I’d appreciate it, if not, it’s all good.”
“Yeah?” Luke tapped his fork to his water glass and smirked. “Will there be more practicing?”
“Definitely.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Gotta train Elliott’s family before the reception.”
Luke’s phone buzzed, and on instinct he pulled it out.
Kent: Do you know where the picnic is and what time it starts?
No way Kent didn’t know this. Hell, Luke knew off the top of his head. What was Kent up to?
Luke: No.
“Kent?” Nico asked.
“Yeah, he’s being a butthead.” He went to put the phone away, but it vibrated again.
Kent: C’mon. I know you know. We’re on the boat and Seb needs to check his calendar.
That was supposed to make him more inclined to help?
Luke: I’m busy. Check your emails.
After angrily typing his reply, Luke pushed the phone into his pocket. Nico watched him with an oddly somber expression. “Sorry.”
“No worries. Exes are hard.” That fake smile returned. “That’s why I’m taking a break from dating.”
“Right.” That clarified things. The kiss on the cheek was nothing, then. Just a thank you for lunch. “About next weekend, I don’t . . .”
Nico’s expression fell, and the sight jolted through Luke. “It’s cool. I’ll tell my family—”
“I don’t want to miss it.”
“You don’t?” Nico perked up. “You want to go?”
He gave Nico a tiny smirk. “If that’s what you want.”
“Yeah, of course! I wasn’t sure you’d want to. I mean . . .”
“I like your family. It’ll be fun.” Even if it rubs what I want in front of my face. “Wanna go for a run later?”
“Sure. After we have time to digest.”
Food wasn’t the only thing Luke needed to digest.
Chapter Twelve
Nico
Nico: The Forsythe? Are you kidding me?
Elisa: What’s wrong with the Forsythe? It’s a nice hotel.
Nico: Luke’s ex is dating a Forsythe.
Elisa: So? They’re staying there overnight, we’re not eating there.
Elisa was right. It didn’t matter. Luke wouldn’t care. He never said anything bad about Sebastian.
So why did Nico feel like this was a betrayal?
Because he had it bad for Luke and wanted to protect him.
Nico felt Luke climb into his side of the bed, and Nico dropped his phone on the nightstand and curled into the blankets. His heart hammered, and he told himself to calm down. Just because they ended up wrapped like pretzels once, didn’t mean it’d happen again.
Luke shifted and stilled, and Nico relaxed, disappointment flaring through him.
What had he hoped? After one tiny kiss on Luke’s cheek, he’d brazenly wrap him into a hug and whisper how much he liked him? How much he wanted to give this a go? How much he liked Nico for Nico?
Warm, wriggly movement woke Nico from a deep sleep. He hummed, and hair tickled his nose. Hair?
He jolted awake.
Nico was curled around Luke, one arm draped over his tight, flat stomach. And Luke was snuggling back into him.
Holy shit. It was happening again. But this time he was hugging Luke with a raging hard-on. Something Luke had to notice grinding against his supple ass.
“Luke?” Nico’s voice came out low and husky. “What are we doing?”
“You reached for me,” Luke whispered back, voice startlingly awake. “I’m just going with it.”
Luke wrapped his arm around Nico’s as if to prevent him from pulling away, and Nico’s heart hitched. Holding Luke felt like a dream.
Nico’s fingers absently traced the outline of Luke’s left nipple. Luke moaned softly, pressing back hard against his front, soaking Nico with his heat.
Nico pushed into it, grinding his straining cock into Luke muscular ass. The friction amped Nico’s lust for his roommate to a new high.
Lust.
That was all this was between them. They were just horny and needed release.
Luke rolled around and faced Nico, noses bumping. “I think you said we needed more practice before dinner tomorrow.”
“Didn’t get enough practice in New York?”
Even in the darkness of the room, Luke’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “I have a different kind of practice in mind for tonight.”
And there was the excuse. Just practice. Just fooling around. Just for tonight.
Nico hesitated. This wasn
’t a good idea, with the crush he had on the guy. They shouldn’t . . .
Unless. Maybe they could fuck away this electric connection between them? Maybe then Nico could move on from liking Luke so hard.
Nico curved a hand around Luke’s hip to his firm ass. “I think you just want to get off with someone.”
“Not just someone.” His thumb ran along Nico’s lower lip.
Nico’s pulse doubled. “What?”
“Nothing.” Luke cupped Nico’s face. “Kiss me.”
Nico abandoned rational thought and crushed his lips against Luke’s.
A hot, eager tongue pushed into his mouth, and Nico hauled Luke closer. Their legs tangled, their hard dicks rubbed, their stomachs undulated. Luke gripped him tight, tight, tight, and Nico scrabbled to get tighter still. Sensation fired through his nerve endings, and Nico met every slick thrust of Luke’s tongue.
Luke gasped between gulps of air, and Nico panted like he’d run ten miles.
Their gazes connected in the dark, amazement glittering between them.
Easily the hottest kiss of Nico’s life.
Nico caressed Luke’s cheek, thumb rubbing gentle circles over his skin. “We should keep practicing.”
Luke tugged Nico, and Nico rolled on top of him. He pushed his torso up enough to admire the way Luke thrust his chin up, neck straining as their cocks ground together. Every slide of his cock over Luke’s spiraled his lust, his need for more connection.
Luke’s hands skated under Nico’s boxers, not breaking their kiss. Nico flexed his glutes, and Luke squeezed them with perfect pressure. His underwear slid over his ass, and Nico raised his hips. His cock sprang free as Luke shoved the fabric to Nico’s thighs.
“This needs to go too,” Luke murmured, grabbing the hem of Nico’s shirt and peeling it over his head.