Chapter 19
19
MARNIN
I checked my watch again, even though I’d done that enough times in the last hour to know that very little time had passed. But Ennio was late, and I didn’t like it. He’d been pulling double shifts all week, filling in for a coworker who’d gotten into a motorcycle accident. Today, he’d left the apartment at eight, and twelve hours later, he was still not home. Not that I was keeping track or anything.
Finally, the front door opened, and Ennio stumbled in, his usually vibrant demeanor dimmed like a wilting flower. His hair was disheveled, his face pale, and his eyes heavy with exhaustion. With a slow movement, he took his coat off and hung it, groaning as he bent over to untie his shoes.
I felt an unfamiliar tug in my chest. “Rough day?”
He trudged to the fridge and took out a bottle of water, downing it in one go. “It was insane. I don’t know how I made it through this week.”
I moved closer, studying the dark circles under his eyes. My protective instincts kicked in. “Right, that’s it. You’re not cooking tonight.”
Ennio slowly turned around, facing me. “But?—”
“No buts.” I reached for my phone. “I’m ordering Thai. You’re going to sit there and not move a muscle. Got it?”
A small smile tugged at Ennio’s lips. “Yes, sir.”
Ennio padded to the guest room, probably to change into something more comfortable. When had I become so soft? This wasn’t like me. And yet, here I was, fussing over Ennio like a mother hen.
I called the Thai restaurant and quickly placed the order. Hell, I even knew what to get him without asking. When had that happened? Somehow, we’d found this…routine, like a couple that had been living together for a while. The thought should terrify me, but it somehow didn’t.
I heard his shower turn on. Oh, good idea. A nice hot shower would ease his aching muscles, and he should be done before the food arrived. This Thai place was only two blocks from my place, so their delivery guy was usually fast.
By the time Ennio shuffled back into the room, I’d set the dining table and poured us each a nice glass of cold Riesling. He blinked when he noticed the table. “I didn’t mean to take so long. I should’ve helped with setting the table.”
I waved his words away. “Don’t be ridiculous. It took me less than a minute. Sit. Food should be here any minute.”
He lowered himself onto the chair with a slight grunt. “Fuck me sideways, everything hurts.”
“Yeah, I can tell. So relax. You’re not lifting a finger tonight.”
“I feel bad.”
“Why? You’ve cooked for me almost every night since you moved in.”
“Well, it seems like the least I can do, considering you won’t let me pay you rent or contribute to the groceries. It’s not fair for you to do everything.”
I snorted. “Life’s not fair, and if you haven’t figured that out by now, you haven’t been paying attention. I don’t need your money, darling, no offense. The mortgage on this place has been paid off, and the groceries amount to nothing, even with the occasional takeout or delivery thrown in. Hell, you’re saving me money by cooking.”
He let out a long sigh. “If you put it that way…”
“I do. Also, you look like you’ve been run over by a truck. Multiple times.”
Ennio’s lower lip jutted out in a pout that was far too adorable for a grown man. “I’m not that bad.”
“You’re right,” I deadpanned. “You look worse.”
“Jerk,” he muttered, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
I felt that dangerous softness in my chest again. I needed to shut this down and fast. “Look, let someone take care of you for once, all right? It won’t kill you.”
Ennio’s eyes softened, and I saw a flash of something in them that made my heart skip a beat. “Thanks, Marnin. I appreciate it.”
Before I could respond, the doorbell rang. Saved by the bell, literally. I jumped up, perhaps a bit too eagerly, and retrieved our food.
When I returned, arms laden with fragrant Thai dishes, Ennio was sipping his wine. He looked marginally more alive, which was an improvement.
“Dig in.” I set the containers on the table. “I got you Pad Thai.”
His eyes lit up. “Oh, I love Pad Thai.”
“I know.”
We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the only sounds the click of our chopsticks and Ennio’s occasional appreciative hum. I found myself watching him more than I should, noticing the way his long eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks, the curve of his neck as he bent over his food.
“God, that was amazing,” he said, finally pushing his plate back. “I almost feel human again.”
I stood, gathering our empty plates. “How about we move this to the couch? I’ll make us some Irish coffee.”
“Ooh, fancy! I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“It’s literally making coffee, adding a solid splash of whiskey and some sugar, and topping it with cream. Nothing fancy about it.”
“I still appreciate the effort.”
“What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”
“Oh, I know you are,” Ennio teased, his voice laced with innuendo.
I busied myself with the coffee, trying to ignore the way my body reacted to his flirtatious tone. When I returned to the living room, two steaming mugs in hand, Ennio was sprawled across the couch, his feet propped up on the armrest.
“Comfy?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
He grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, my feet are killing me.”
I handed him his coffee and put mine on the table, then sat down, lifting his feet onto my lap. “Here, let me.”
My hands moved of their own accord, thumbs digging into the arch of his foot. Ennio let out a moan. “Oh my god…”
He closed his eyes and leaned back as I used both hands to massage his right foot until the tension dissolved. The sinful sounds he made shot straight to my balls, making them tingle.
“This is perfect. Your hands are magic,” Ennio said with a happy sigh.
I swallowed hard, trying to focus on the task at hand and not the way Ennio’s face was flushed with pleasure. “So, uh, any plans for tomorrow night?”
Ennio’s eyes fluttered open. “Not really. Why?”
I cleared my throat. “Well, I thought you might wanna hit up a club again. You know, since you mentioned wanting to meet someone. I could come with you if you wanted. To keep you safe and all after that nasty experience last time.”
“You’re still willing to come with me?”
I shrugged, aiming for a nonchalance I wasn’t feeling at all. In fact, the thought of having to watch Ennio flirt and dance or even kiss and make out with another guy was…disturbing. “Sure, if you wanted me to.”
Ennio studied me, his face surprisingly neutral. Usually, I was able to read his emotions with ease, but this time, he’d closed himself off.
“Oh, Marnin, that’s so sweet of you to offer,” he finally said, still not allowing me to see what he was feeling. “But I’m absolutely exhausted after this week. The thought of having to get all dressed up and staying out late… I don’t think I have it in me.”
I felt a rush of relief, followed immediately by guilt. What kind of friend was I, feeling glad that Ennio didn’t want to go out and potentially meet someone?
“You should totally go though! Don’t let my old man ways hold you back,” Ennio added.
“Old man? You’re thirty-six, drama queen.”
“Ancient in gay years,” Ennio quipped, wiggling his toes against my palm.
“What does that make me, prehistoric?” I hesitated, surprised to find myself reluctant to go without him. The thought of prowling a club, surrounded by sweaty bodies and pounding music, suddenly held zero appeal. “I think I’ll pass too. To be honest, I… I feel safe with you, Ennio. Since we started…sleeping together, I haven’t had any issues. I don’t want to jeopardize that.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I froze, shocked by my own vulnerability.
Ennio’s eyes widened and the sweetest smile spread across his face. “I like what we have too.”
I rolled my eyes, desperate to regain some semblance of my former self. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head. I mean…you’re not bad company, and we’re very compatible in bed.”
“Compatible in bed?” Ennio laughed, the sound warming me from the inside out. “It’s a miracle men everywhere don’t fall at your feet, what with how charming you are. And such a smooth talker too. Now, less chatting and more foot rubbing, please.”
I complied, trying to ignore the way my heart raced at Ennio’s contented sighs. What the hell was happening to me? Ennio’s eyes fluttered closed, a soft smile playing on his lips. The tension in his body melted away under my touch.
“So you don’t want to sleep with anyone else right now?” he asked after a while.
“No.”
“Neither do I.”
Our eyes met. A strange urge came over me. “You want to be exclusive?”
“Yes. You okay with that?”
“Yeah. I trust you.”
And I did. I always had, even before I’d known him this well.
“Mmm, this is perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion. His eyes drifted shut. “You’re perfect, Marnin.”
My breath caught in my throat. I wanted to deflect with sarcasm, to maintain the emotional distance I’d always clung to, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I found myself drinking in the sight of him—the way his hair fell across his forehead, the splash of freckles across his nose, the gentle curve of his pink lips.
“Don’t fall asleep on me now, princess,” I teased, but my voice came out softer than I’d intended.
Ennio’s eyes cracked open. “Then stop making me feel so good. I feel like I’m melting into a puddle.”
The sincerity in his voice hit me like a punch to the gut. I swallowed hard, my hands stilling on his feet. “Yeah, well…someone’s gotta keep you healthy.”
He chuckled, the sound trailing off into a yawn. “My hero,” he mumbled, his eyes drifting shut again.
I watched as his breathing evened out, sleep claiming him despite his best efforts. The sight of him, so vulnerable and trusting, stirred something deep within me—a warmth I’d long forgotten I was capable of feeling.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t do feelings, didn’t do attachments. But as I sat there, watching Ennio’s chest rise and fall, I couldn’t deny the unfamiliar tenderness blooming in my chest.
I sat there for a long time, watching Ennio sink deeper and deeper into sleep until soft snores drifted from his lips. My mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts.
I wanted him, but that was nothing new or surprising. And while I could’ve expressed myself with a little more eloquence— compatible in bed was definitely not my finest hour—it was the truth. He and I were a good match sexually. We had undeniable chemistry. I liked having him in my life, my apartment, my bed.
No, it was everything else that came with it that had me so confused. Feelings. I had feelings. Soft, fluttery feelings. Protective ones, where I wanted to take care of Ennio and make sure he slept well and his body stopped hurting, but also where I wanted to call the FBI and hound them personally until they caught the bastard who stole all his savings. I wanted to do all the things with him, even stupid cheesy shit like going on an orca watch, just to see him smile.
I wanted to keep him.
The truth of that statement hit me like a slap to my face. I didn’t want Ennio to leave. I hated the idea of him with anyone else but me. Jealous. I was freaking jealous—something I’d never before felt in my life. What the hell was happening to me?
Half an hour later—and there was another first, watching a man sleep for that long without getting bored—I was getting cold as the heating had turned off for the night. I couldn’t leave him on the couch all night, nor did I want him to. His place was in my bed, right next to me.
“Alright, sleeping beauty,” I muttered, carefully sliding my arms under Ennio’s slight frame. “Let’s get you to bed.”
As I lifted him, I was struck by how light he felt in my arms. His head lolled against my chest, and the warmth of his breath reached me through my shirt. The scent of his shampoo—something floral and fruity—filled my nostrils, and I inhaled deeply.
I carried him to my bedroom, my footsteps careful and measured. “You know,” I whispered, even though I knew he couldn’t hear me, “you’re making it really hard for me to keep my distance.”
Gently, I laid him on the bed. His shirt had ridden up during the journey, exposing a sliver of pale skin above his waistband. He was so beautiful, so gorgeous, even asleep. My hand moved of its own accord, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead.
Fuck, I needed to get a grip before this whole thing got out of hand.
I carefully dragged down his sweatpants—his shirt could stay—then tucked him under the covers. He never even stirred, a testament to how exhausted he was. But some of the tension that had been present earlier had disappeared, making space for a peaceful expression on his face.
I stood there for a moment longer, watching the rise and fall of his chest, feeling an unfamiliar ache in my own. This softness, this tenderness—it was foreign territory for me. Dangerous territory. But I couldn’t make myself look away. I couldn’t stop it.
Finally, I got ready for bed myself, then slipped under the covers next to him. I kissed him softly on his forehead. “Sweet dreams, princess.”