by CC Bridges
I waited to give her some time to think. Finally she let out a little sigh. “All right. It would be nice to crash in an actual bed.”
After that, it took a little bit of coordinating. Clara would not leave her car behind on campus. She didn’t trust security not to tow it, even if we got permission for overnight parking. I drove her car while Ana followed in my car. I dropped Clara off at the beach house and then drove Ana back to her car.
By the time I got back, I realized how late it had gotten. I should have been at Lou’s fifteen minutes ago. After tossing my keys in the blue glass jar on the front end table, I sent him a text explaining the situation.
I could hear Clara retching upstairs and winced in sympathy. It looked like I’d be camping out on the couch downstairs if I wanted to get any sleep. My phone buzzed with Lou’s reply.
What’s your address? I’ll run over with a care package.
“How sweet.” I laughed, sending him the info. Gatorade and crackers?
Something like that. Bet you haven’t had dinner either.
Lost my appetite.
I washed up at the kitchen sink and tried to straighten up a bit. This was one of the least appealing scenarios for Lou coming to my place. Alas, there could be no fooling around, not with the patient upstairs.
I turned the TV on low to listen to something besides Clara being sick, and waited for the sound of Lou’s motorcycle. To my surprise, a car slid into the driveway about fifteen minutes later, and Lou knocked on my door.
“No bike?”
He held up two paper bags, from which emanated the sweet smell of Martelli’s food. “Can’t take these on the bike.”
Practical, of course, though it killed my mental image of Lou riding to our rescue down the bridge, like an Italian superhero.
“This one is for you.” He handed me one of the bags before making a beeline for my kitchen. The other bag he unpacked, and yes, it did contain crackers and containers of broth, but also the fixings for something else. I recognized lemons and maybe sugar, but the rest were in unlabeled plastic containers.
Lou started to open my cabinets. “Pots?”
“Down low. They came with the house.” For a moment, I was embarrassed by my low-quality cookware.
Lou got to work squeezing lemons and heating up this concoction in a sauce pan he’d dug out. While it simmered, he puttered around the kitchen, putting away the soup and organizing the takeout containers for our dinner on the middle island.
I couldn’t help but watch. He was like a flurry of motion, commanding my kitchen despite this being the first time he’d ever set foot in it. He stirred the pot, then took a taste from the wooden spoon. “Perfect. Do you have a mug?”
I pulled out one that declared “I heart Seaside” on it.
Lou poured. “Here. Tell her to sip this slowly. Old family recipe.” His cheeks colored. “My nonna used to make it for me when I got sick.”
As he finished talking, we heard her footsteps on the stairs. Clara poked her head in the kitchen, looking somehow even paler, but not green, thankfully. “Hey?”
“You must be Clara.” Lou grinned. “How are you feeling?”
“Shitty, thanks.”
“This is Lou. He’s made some magical Italian drink for you.” I held out the mug.
She took a tentative sip. “Huh. Not bad.”
“Take it easy with that,” Lou advised. “Till you’re sure you can hold it down.”
“Thanks, Doc.” She went back up the steps. Halfway up she paused long enough to shout, “It was nice meeting you!”
She totally came down to get a glimpse of him. Well, later I’d find out what she thought. Not that it mattered. I thought Lou was hot as fuck, and my opinion was the only one that counted.
“Thanks. It was really nice of you to bring all this.” I sat on one of the stools along the island to dig into some of the food. My diminished appetite had returned at the mouthwatering scent of the baked pasta dish. I pulled up a forkful of pasta, sauce, and cheese, closing my eyes in pleasure as I ate.
“Look who’s talking. You’re the one who opened up your home for a sick friend.” Lou fiddled with his fork but didn’t eat. “And isn’t that what boyfriends do?”
“You don’t sound sure.” I took a break from eating.
Lou frowned and kept jamming his fork into his dinner, turning it into mush. He dropped the fork and set his arms on the counter. “I’ve never seriously dated anyone. Exchanged blowjobs in the locker room, sure. Go out for dinner after that? Not so much.”
“This gives me some insight into your gym habits.”
That made him smile at least. “I like you, Nick. I want to see where this goes, you know. But I’m afraid I’ll fuck it up.”
“Hence the constant need to feed me?” I gestured to the spread of food on the counter.
“When in doubt, provide food. I think it’s the Italian motto.”
I didn’t quite know what to say. We’d gotten silly, but it didn’t change any of the problems. Lou wanted to date me but didn’t know how. And I wasn’t planning on staying here more than a year. “I’ve never had any serious boyfriends either,” I offered. “Unless you count sophomore year in high school, and I don’t, because nobody knew about that, and I think I turned him straight.” And then there’d been Jace, but I didn’t want to talk about him.
“Okay, that’s a story we’ll save for another time.” Lou pointed as he spoke, and then he spread his hands out to either side. “I want to take things a little slow. Go on some dates. See movies. Sometimes I can be a little old-fashioned.”
That made me smile. “I picked up on that, yeah.” Lou deserved an answer, and I didn’t want to leave him hanging. “I don’t mind dating. I think I might actually like it. But you know I’m planning on going back to RU. Eventually.”
He tapped his chin. “And you know New Brunswick is so far. It takes days by boat to get there. And then I have to climb a mountain and cross hot lava barefoot.”
“You joke, but have you ever been on Route 18 during rush hour?”
“I lived my entire life with Shore traffic. I think I can handle it.”
He had a point. We didn’t know where this thing would take us. Worrying about what would happen six months from now was pointless. Time to jump in and take the risk. “All right. You may proceed. Date me.”
He laughed.
We ended up curling up in front of the TV, on the couch I’d probably spend the night on. I leaned against his side, his big strong arm wrapped around me as I put something mindless on. I couldn’t concentrate on the TV, too occupied by Lou’s presence. I took in his scent—a mix of Italian seasoning and something dark and smoky.
It was only natural that I’d tilt back my head and he’d lean down to kiss me. I caught my hand in those dark curls—finally—tugging them gently as I explored his mouth, getting to know the way his lips felt, the shape of his tongue against mine.
It did not last nearly long enough. Lou pulled away after one last lingering kiss. “I should go. You’ve got class tomorrow morning.”
“Memorized my schedule already?”
He winked. “I’m that good.”
I let him go, but my body tingled as I lay on the couch that night, unable to sleep now that I’d had the warmth of him and then lost it.
THE NEXT morning, I was sitting at the kitchen island eating an orange when I heard footsteps. Clara emerged, looking less pale, although she still moved a little gingerly. I put down my food. “Hey. How are you feeling?”
“I don’t know what was in that drink last night, but it totally did the trick. I still want to sleep for a week, but I’m not puking my guts out anymore.”
“I told you—magic.”
“Yeah, well, he’s definitely a keeper.” She tugged at her sweatshirt. “You mind if I take a shower? It would be nice to get clean before I have to get to work this afternoon.”
She probably planned on skipping our morning class. I didn’t blame he
r. “Sure. There are towels in the linen closet right next to the bathroom. And Lou left you some soup. Feel free to heat that up for yourself before you leave.”
She hesitated in the doorway. “What?”
“Well, I need to get to class. You’re going to have to fend for yourself a bit.” I started to clean up my breakfast dishes.
“No. I mean. You’re just going to trust me here with all this stuff?” She stepped into the kitchen, color blazing in her cheeks. “You know I’m living out of my car.”
“Do you think I’m that much of an asshole?” That hurt a bit. “I’d invite you home and then accuse you of stealing?”
“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t be the first.” She crossed her arms over her chest and wouldn’t meet my eyes.
Fuck, that sucked—to have so little and be so mistrusted. I started puttering around the kitchen, got the Gatorade out and poured a glass.
“I’m sorry.” I handed her the cup. “And you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But how did you end up living out of your car?”
She took a sip and then twirled the glass between her fingers. “It’s not a long story. My parents kicked me out when they found out—” Clara paused and swallowed before continuing. “—who I really was. I was in the middle of the semester, on the hook for the fall tuition, and I don’t exactly make enough working part-time to afford an apartment too.”
“Fuck.”
Clara laughed. “You have a way with words, Blondie.”
I couldn’t imagine having parents like that. Mine were too self-absorbed to really care who I fucked, but at least they never pulled any of their support, even after they’d divorced. I actually counted on their financial support. My throat went dry at the thought of how close I could have been to Clara’s situation.
“It’s fine. I have a plan. I’m going to finish my associate’s degree. By then I’ll be off my parents’ taxes, which means I can apply for financial aid at a four-year and move into a dorm.”
“Long-term goals. How are you going to manage the winter?”
“I’m saving up my couch-hopping privileges for when it gets cold. I don’t want to overstay my welcome when I can afford it.”
Still, to sleep in that car? All alone in the Walmart parking lot? That really sucked. But I knew enough about Clara to understand she didn’t want any pity. “Well, you can crash here as long as you need to.”
I wish I could do more than just offer a spare bed for a few nights. Short of finding her parents and asking them what the hell was wrong with them, there wasn’t anything I could do as a long-term solution. I didn’t like how that felt. Clara didn’t deserve this shit.
She didn’t answer for a moment, too busy concentrating on drinking. “Maybe until I’m feeling better.”
“Excellent.” I opened up one of the cabinets and grabbed the spare key hung on the inside. “Here, so you can get back in after your shift tonight if I’m out.”
“Hot date?”
“With the library. And maybe I’ll stop in and see Lou on the way home.” I could feel my ears heat. I couldn’t help but be flustered after last night. This slow burn between us was going to kill me.
“Good. You guys are cute together.” She put the cup in the sink. Clara wrapped her arms around herself, looking somehow smaller. “And, Nick? Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Chapter 6
“WHAT’S THIS crap I hear about a hurricane?” Clara all but slammed her backpack on the desk before class.
October surprised the hell out of us all, thundering in with a brisk change in temperature that had me wearing a jacket when I went outside and digging in the linen closet for the extra blankets at night. Instead of the ocean waves lulling me to sleep, I heard the cold rain banging on the roof of the Shore house, followed by the roaring wind. The memory of last night had me shivering, wondering when they were going to turn the heat on in the classroom.
Shit, I should call Devon’s parents and find out how I could get the heat turned on at my place. I pulled out my phone to send Devon a quick text before I forgot.
“What hurricane?”
In response, Clara shook out a crumpled copy of the Asbury Park Press from her pocket and let it drop onto my desk. The headline read, “Storm Could Disrupt Halloween.” I picked it up and skimmed the contents. “Who reads newspapers anymore?”
“Shut up. They’re on campus trying to get people to subscribe.” Clara smacked my shoulder.
Ana picked up the paper and scanned it carefully. “Do you think they’ll cancel the parade? Phi Theta Kappa has a float this year.”
“They haven’t canceled that parade in, like, twenty years. A little hurricane isn’t going to stop them.”
“What parade?” I asked and had both of them staring at me like I’d announced the sky was green.
Ana finally sighed. “Toms River has a huge Halloween parade. It’s why we have trick-or-treating on the thirtieth.”
“Then when do you have mischief night?” I asked.
“Why? Are you planning on egging any houses?” Clara dropped into her seat. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard about it by now. Lou never mentioned it?”
“We’ve been a little busy. Plus he’s been working,” I clarified quickly, but my cheeks heated at her knowing smile.
Okay, yeah, we did make out whenever we could grab a moment together. But Lou did work a hell of a lot. He had to close down the pizzeria every night, and some mornings helped with either prep or managing the deliveries. Without him helping out like that, they couldn’t run the place.
I’d learned so much about the pizza business these past few weeks.
My phone buzzed, and I looked at Devon’s reply.
My parents will be down there this weekend.
What? Why?
Need to prep the house for the storm.
My finger hovered over the blinking cursor, as I seriously contemplated bitching at him for mostly ignoring my texts this past month. Despite my annoyance rising at his sudden decision to talk to me now, I didn’t do it. Devon was the kind of guy who forgot shit if it wasn’t in front of him. Next time I saw him, we’d be best friends again.
Ok. Text me when and I’ll make sure to be around.
There, let him think my social calendar was full with something other than pizza and classwork.
WHEN I got home after class, I texted Lou about the hurricane. I knew if he was busy, he’d get back to me when he could. I felt weird showing up when other people were around. He hadn’t introduced me to his family yet—oh, yeah, I’d avoided the place in the daytime, so it wasn’t like he’d had the opportunity, but if he did, would he introduce me as his boyfriend? I didn’t know, and I wasn’t sure I even wanted him to.
My phone buzzed within seconds.
You busy tonight?
Tonight? Aren’t you still closing?
After work. Want to take you on a night ride. Before I have to put bike away for the season.
That sounded nice, actually. I could use the break. I had one last midterm on Friday but didn’t expect to have to ramp up my studying for it. This time around, I breezed through the class. The professors here seemed more forgiving in a lot of ways—not always easy, but like they cared more about you learning than about you getting every nitpicky thing right. At least I wouldn’t have any trouble passing that damn accounting class this time. That would make Dad happy. I didn’t give a shit.
Come over when you can, I told Lou, going to grab some warmer clothes. It got chilly on the bike.
Lou rumbled into my driveway shortly before eleven, the bike thundering through the quiet streets. I heard him long before I saw him. He must have rushed through cleanup to get here so fast. I liked how eager he was to see me. I zipped up my jacket and met him outside.
“So is the plan to wake up everyone in the neighborhood?”
He handed me the extra helmet and laughed. “They’ll be jealous that we’re having such a good time.”
&nb
sp; I hopped up on the bike behind him, no longer afraid to wrap my arms around his waist and rest my chest against his back as he revved the engine and took off, leaving a cyclone of dust in our wake. Lou must have had a destination in mind, easily guiding the motorcycle up Route 35.
I noticed when the neighborhood changed, when the tiny bungalows gave way to much bigger houses, then finally mansions. The road had split into two, with the north and south sides separated by an island of houses in the middle. We had the ocean on one side and the bay on the other, completely surrounded by surging water.
Lou pulled off onto the shoulder and cut the engine. “I want to show you one of my favorite houses.”
Where he stopped, there was a break between houses, and we could access the beach. It was eerily quiet, with very few lights. The roar of the ocean sounded incredibly loud. No boardwalk full of arcades and rides here. Only silence. My breath caught as I got off the bike and followed, feeling like we traveled into another world.
“You have a favorite? Dreaming of owning one of these?” I pointed as we walked down the beach.
“In another life, maybe.” He looked a little sad. “Okay, we have to be a little quiet. These are private beaches.”
“Lou Martelli,” I said in a loud whisper. “Are we engaging in illegal shenanigans?”
He laughed, the sound coming out in a surprised loud trill, and then he had to clasp his hands over his mouth to keep from making any more noise. He doubled over, and I pounded him on his back to make sure he was still breathing.
Lou straightened, and his eyes twinkled in the light of the nearly full moon illuminating the beach. I reached for him and wound my arms around his neck as we kissed. He tasted of warmth and spice, and I devoured his mouth, trying to get even closer. I could feel him grow hard against my own erection, and it made me want to climb him, to rub our bodies together until we were one.