Fifteen Ramin
fifteen
Ramin
The Barolo was beyond exquisite. Notes of licorice and dark red fruits basically punched him in the face.
“I love Barolo.” Maria stuck her nose in the glass, swirled it, took a long sip herself, then fixed Ramin with a sparkling smile and a wink. “It’s a tough life.”
“It’s a tough life,” Ramin agreed. Drinking Barolo on a sunny day in Bellagio. He could get used to this.
He absolutely should not get used to this. Wine and potato chips for lunch was not sustainable.
Neither was crashing his high school crush’s family trip.
Jake still had his right arm in a gentle grip, tracing the tattoo on his pulse point over and over.
Nasrin, his mom’s name. His dad’s name was on the other wrist. Noah sidled in on Ramin’s left, so close their shoulders brushed.
Ramin sucked in his stomach and lost another chest hair to the plastic wrap around his tattoo.
“What’s that, Jakey?”
“Ramin’s mom’s name.” He looked at up Ramin, his brows furrowed. “Dad says I can’t do any body modification until I’m thirteen.”
Ramin nearly spat out his wine trying so hard not to laugh. “That’s not a bad rule. You have plenty of time.”
“I guess.” Jake huffed and reached for the crinkle-cut chips.
Noah smiled at Ramin and reached for his own taste of wine. Ramin did his best not to stare at Noah’s throat as he swallowed, which meant he saw the pleasure sweep over Noah’s face as it happened. His eyes popped open in wonder. “This is amazing.”
“Right?” He stuck his nose back in his own glass to hide his blush.
How had he gotten himself into this?
“I can’t decide which is better, this or the Ornellaia the other night.”
Maria’s eyes bugged. “When did you have Ornellaia?”
Ramin blushed. “Ah, we ran into each other at dinner two nights ago? My first night in Milan?”
Maria sighed. “That’s a special wine.”
“This one is, too,” Ramin said, raising his glass. “Seriously. You didn’t have to share it. But thank you.”
Maria just winked at him again. “It’s my pleasure.”
Ramin kind of wanted her to adopt him.
“Okay, finish up your tasting, we have to go,” Angela said.
“We’re fine—” Noah began, but Angela shook her head.
“We’re on a schedule.”
Noah sighed and tossed back the last of his taste. Maria recorked the bottle and tucked it in the crook of her elbow. “We can finish this with lunch.”
Sensing his escape—finally—Ramin set his glass down. “Thank you so much for letting me taste. I’d better—”
But Maria stopped him. “You and Noah can take the Vespa. There’s not enough room in the car for six.”
The what now?
“Oh, I’m not… I mean, I was going to eat in town—”
“Nonsense! Join us! There’s plenty of food.”
Ramin wondered if Maria was part Iranian, her taarofing skills were so masterful. How could he politely decline? He was weighing his options when Angela cut in.
“Nonna, none of us can drive a Vespa.”
“Why not? It’s safe. We just had it serviced. I drove it today.”
“We don’t have an international permit.”
“You don’t need that,” Nonno said.
“It’s recommended—” Angela began.
“I have one.”
Ramin clamped his mouth shut. He shouldn’t have said that out loud. Everyone turned to stare at him.
“Uh.” He wanted to disappear. If only Maria hadn’t taken the wine bottle away, he could’ve drowned himself with it. Or given himself a concussion. Or thrown it through the window and made a run for it.
So much for politely declining.
“I have a permit? If it helps?”
“Here we are,” Tomaso announced after a sweaty climb up another salita, on which Ramin definitely did not stare at Noah’s ass in his shorts.
Tomaso rested his hand on a tiny silver car. Next to it sat an azure Vespa with a matching helmet on top.
“We’ve got another helmet,” Maria said. She dug in the tiny car’s even tinier trunk, then thrust a plain black helmet into Noah’s hands.
“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” Ramin asked one last time.
“You have to come!” Jake said, yanking on Ramin’s arm. “Can I ride with Ramin?”
“Absolutely not,” Angela spat, so loud Ramin jumped. She looked at him sheepishly. “Sorry, nothing against you, but—”
Ramin shook his head. “I get it.” He knelt next to Jake. “It’s my first time driving one of these, and it’s safer for you in the car, okay?”
Jake pouted at Ramin, but it was so cute it only made Ramin snort. Jake really was like a Muppet in human form.
Jake seemed to realize it wasn’t working, too, because he changed tactics. “Okay, what about next time?”
“He said no, Jake,” Noah said. “You need to respect it when—”
“Fine!” Jake’s face turned red. He spun away from Ramin. “I didn’t want to ride it anyway.”
Ramin blinked and stood, staring after Jake as he stomped over to the car.
“Ah, kids,” Maria said, brushing his elbow. “He’ll be fine.”
She stood next to him as he mounted the Vespa and made sure he knew how to run it. “Just follow Tomaso. It’s not far.”
“Okay.” Ramin took his seat, pushing down the panic mounting in his chest. Not at driving the Vespa—he was fine with that—but about sharing it with Noah.
“Sorry about Jake. Lately he gets mad at me whenever I say no to him.”
“We all said no,” Ramin pointed out.
“But I’m the one he’s mad at.”
The Vespa sunk into its suspension as Noah mounted up behind him. Ramin felt the warmth against his back even before Noah scooted close and brought his hands up to Ramin’s side. Ramin sucked in his stomach as hard as he could.
Noah’s arms were warm and firm and big. The last six months or so, Todd’s embrace had changed, gotten so firm it wasn’t entirely comfortable. But Noah’s arms felt like being cradled.
Ramin made himself unclench his ass as Noah’s powerful chest settled against his back. He breathed in deep. He was fine. Everything was fine. This was for safety, not for cuddles.
“You good?” Noah asked, so close Ramin felt the breath against the back of his neck. He thought about cold water, the lake below, wondered if it had that brain-eating amoeba he’d read was in some lakes in the States. Anything to stop himself getting hard.
Which would’ve been a lot easier if his brain wasn’t trying to calculate exactly how much distance lay between his ass and Noah’s Ark.
No, nope, no way. He accidentally revved the engine way too hard. “Sorry!”
“You’re fine.” Noah’s voice resonated all the way through Ramin’s chest.
How the fuck had he wound up here, swooning at a straight man’s arms around him? Was this a cosmic joke? Had Todd put some sort of curse on him? Worse, had he cursed himself? Had he failed to make eye contact during a toast and consigned himself to seven years bad sex?
Well. Interesting New Ramin was supposed to be doing Interesting New Things. A Vespa ride through the hillsides of Lake Como counted. Even if it was with an old crush.
“Here we go,” Ramin said. Noah’s arms tightened, digging into his tattoo. Tomaso pulled away, and Ramin followed him onto the sunlit streets.