Chapter 15 #2
“Let’s kick this off with the best question I could come up with,” Marjorie continued, “Becca, what is your wife’s favorite junk food? Their deepest, secret guilty pleasure?”
Becca laughed. “Oh, this is easy. Hands down, Taco Bell.”
“Especially the Mexican Pizza,” Clare cried out.
Everyone laughed.
“What about you, Colleen? What’s Ned’s favorite junk food?”
“Jellybeans. All kinds,” she said, “but especially the licorice ones.”
“Yep, she’s got it,” Ned said, a slow, fond smile breaking across his wrinkled face. “They’re the best.”
“What about you guys?” Marjorie said, turning toward where Luca and Oliver were sitting.
Now, Oliver had suspicions what Luca’s guilty pleasure might be, at least when it came to junk food, but he knew Oliver’s—at least if he remembered it.
“Oh, that’s easy.” Luca winked at Marjorie. “Frozen pizza.”
“And you’re not mad about that?” she asked archly.
“Hell no,” Luca insisted. He shot Oliver a sweet, dopey smile, the kind of smile he’d never have in a million years believed Luca could possess. “How can you be mad at someone who creates such amazing things all day and then just wants a quick dinner?”
“You should be cooking for him,” Becca pointed out.
“Trust me, I do.”
Oliver watched Luca’s face as a shadow crossed over it.
He had. But he wouldn’t be cooking for him anymore. Not if he flew home tomorrow.
When he flies home tomorrow, Oliver reminded himself. He’d very scrupulously not even suggested to Luca he should stay—because they both knew he wouldn’t even consider it—but also because if he asked and Luca said no, he wasn’t sure he’d ever get over it.
“Good,” Becca said. “You gotta win them over stomach first, right?”
“Right,” Luca said weakly.
“Alright,” Marjorie said. “First kiss! Who wants to describe theirs first?”
Becca and Clare nailed theirs, even acting it out on stage, to wild cheers.
Then Colleen talked about how Ned had been holding off, wanting to do something very silly, she said, like respect her, and she’d finally had to just grab him by the shirt collar and kiss him.
Then Marjorie turned to them, and suddenly Oliver didn’t know if he had the stomach to do this.
But Luca had smiled at him, kind and sweet, the opposite of everything he’d once believed the man was. Maybe they were really more similar than he’d imagined. Maybe he was a little saltier than he’d realized, and Luca much sweeter.
“I kissed him,” Luca said after taking the microphone from Marjorie, “because I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
He’d just told me Eliza and Nathaniel’s story and it was so romantic and he told it so well, can’t imagine where he gets that from,” he teased, glancing over at the audience, where Joy sat, “but he was just standing in front of me, and I realized if I didn’t kiss him then, I’d regret it the rest of my life. ”
Oliver took a deep breath and then let it out slowly.
There was no way Luca wasn’t looking at him with love in his eyes.
The game moved on, Marjorie teasing out answers from the other couples, even from them, but it passed in a haze of bittersweet longing for Oliver.
He’d found the man for him, the man he’d probably love for the rest of his life, but just because fate had placed him right in Oliver’s path didn’t mean they were actually meant to be together.
For the first time, as Oliver hugged Marjorie and then Becca and Clare, and even Ned, he thought hard about the possibility of leaving all this behind.
From the beginning he’d told himself going to California wasn’t an option.
His life was here. His family was here. His bakery.
And Luca was right, his family’s history and its love was literally woven into the town.
How could he leave it? But how could he let love escape him without doing anything to stop it?
Oliver didn’t know.
It was too much to think about, so overwhelming, he finally shoved it to the side as he found himself alone with Luca, standing by the edge of the stage. Luca looked apprehensive and a little guilty, like he’d said more than he’d meant.
Maybe they hadn’t said the words, but they’d said enough.
“What do you want to do?” Luca finally asked, shifting from one foot to the other. Oliver didn’t think he’d ever seen him anxious, but he was now.
That much was clear.
“I think—” Oliver breathed in and breathed out. He couldn’t really come to terms with the idea of leaving now, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t ever, he’d have time to think about it after Luca left. “I think I want you to kiss me goodbye.”
Luca raised an eyebrow. “That’s all?”
“No, that’s not all,” Oliver said, reaching out a hand and gripping Luca’s. “Come on, let’s go. They don’t need me to clean up, and I’m assuming Giana’s taken care of already.”
“Yes,” Luca said, and he didn’t put up any argument, just let Oliver tug him silently in the direction of the Inn.
He didn’t say a word until they were through Luca’s door, the lock turned behind them, and he looked at Oliver, that intense burning look in his dark eyes making Oliver swallow hard. “Did you mean all of that?” he asked.
“Did you?” Oliver countered. He already knew the answer. Luca knew it, too, but Oliver understood why he’d asked.
It was stepping right up to that line without actually crossing it.
Because Oliver had a feeling if they did cross it, there’d be no going back.
“You know I did,” Luca said in a low, desperate voice, and cupping his cheeks with his palms, leaned down and kissed him.
There was a part of Oliver that desperately wanted to overthink.
But another, much stronger part that told him, that insisted in fact, that all he should be doing was feeling.
So he felt.
The bristle of Luca’s scruff against his chin, dragging down in a deliciously rough slide against his neck, the brush of his fingertips along Oliver’s spine as Luca pulled his T-shirt up and pulled it over his head.
They tumbled into bed together in one half-naked pile, rolling back and forth until Oliver ended up straddling him, leaning down to nip at Luca’s lips again.
“You want it like this again?” Oliver ground down, caught the exhaled gasp from Luca’s mouth. He wasn’t going to think that in some version of the future, this would be the last time they’d do this. So he didn’t say it.
But he saw the thought cross Luca’s face.
“No . . .” Luca gasped again as Oliver rolled his hips. Unable to help the smirk that bloomed across his face as he did it. There’d been a time—it seemed impossible to even believe now—when he’d been sure Luca was cold.
But he wasn’t cold at all. He was fire, underneath his icy, arrogant reserve.
“No,” Luca repeated, “not quite. Not like . . .before.” He stretched out, his fingers reaching for the drawer in the bedside table.
He came back with the bottle of lube, and yeah, they had used half of it.
Oliver wasn’t going to feel guilty about that at all.
They’d had fun and a hell of a lot of great sex. “Me, this time,” he said.
Oliver’s jaw dropped.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it. Of course he had. Personally, he liked both, but he’d expected Luca wouldn’t be that way.
Wouldn’t want to give up that kind of control.
“I don’t . . .I don’t trust many people to see me like . . .like that,” Luca said, and his eyes were burning again, right into Oliver, making his pulse jump and his cock twitch. “But you, you’re different.”
You’re everything.
Oliver heard the words even though he didn’t say them.
“Okay,” he said, shuffling backward. He tugged Luca’s boxer briefs down his thick thighs, revealing his hard cock, flushed red and already wet at the tip.
He really wanted this.
If Oliver let himself think about it, he’d burn up from the inside out, and he’d never be able to give Luca what he wanted. What he needed.
“Please,” Luca said and even when begging, he sounded semidignified, which shouldn’t make Oliver love him more, but it did.
“I’ve got you,” Oliver murmured and dipped his head down low, licking up Luca’s cock, as Luca groaned and slowly spread his legs. Oliver slicked up his fingers and then circled his thumb against his exposed hole.
“You done this before?” Oliver asked, between long, tender licks of his cock. Taking his time because Luca deserved that—deserved the whole fucking world, as far as Oliver was concerned.
“Yes,” Luca said between gritted teeth. “But not . . .not often. And not for a long time.”
“We don’t—”
But Oliver didn’t get the rest of his sentence out before Luca was pushing up and his kiss was hot like a brand, burning him the rest of the way.
“Yes,” Luca said when it finally ended, before he collapsed back on the bed. “Yes, we do.”
He nodded. Took a deep breath and leaned down again.
Oliver wanted it to be good, knew what he liked—though Luca knew what he liked, too, the bastard, because now he’d miss sex with him almost as much as he’d miss the man himself—and so he took his time. Stretching him carefully, one finger and then two, with plenty of lube to keep him wet.
While Oliver fingered him, he kept up the teasing blowjob he’d begun. Nothing too deep, nothing too strong, just enough to remind Luca who was in charge, who was calling the shots here, enough to let him relax enough to let him in.
Luca moaned, loud and insistent as Oliver added a third finger. He tried a few different angles, and then finally found it, and this time Luca made zero noise at all, just thrashed his head against the pillow when Oliver massaged his prostate.
Oliver’s hands weren’t exactly steady as he found the condom, rolled it on, and slicked himself up.
Luca already looked fucked out, his cheeks ruddy and flushed, his eyes wide, the pupils blown out, his hands seeking out any part of Oliver he could reach, before he finally braced himself and slid the first inch in.
It had been forever since he’d done this, too, and the pressure was so tight and warm and intense, Oliver needed a moment himself.
“God,” he said, hearing just how rough his voice sounded, “you’re so good.”
Luca reached up, cupping his cheek as Oliver slid home the rest of the way. Neither of them spoke, but maybe words were overrated just then. Maybe they’d both said everything they needed to.
Oliver didn’t push it, didn’t thrust hard or particularly fast, because almost from the beginning, it felt like just this was enough. He ground, slow and steady, into Luca’s ass, and let the incredible feel of tight heat pull him away.
Luca reached for his own cock, and Oliver knocked his hand away, leaning down and giving him just a little bit of friction as his lips found Luca’s.
Luca’s mouth was so pliant and sweet against his own as they kissed and kissed. One of Oliver’s hands gripped Luca’s, and he squeezed it tight as Luca finally groaned loud and insistent, body shaking underneath Oliver’s.
They’d had a lot of sex, Oliver thought, finally letting go and letting his own orgasm overtake him, but none of it had ever felt this sweet or intimate.
Even after it was over, he didn’t move, because Luca had an arm clamped tightly across his back.
Like he didn’t want him to go.
That makes two of us.
Finally, Luca’s eyes opened and he looked unbearably sad.
He was going to say it now.
I don’t want to go.
I love you, and I don’t want to leave you.
If he did, Oliver was going to do something crazy or stupid or even worse, both, and he knew it was too soon to be making those kinds of decisions.
So instead, he wiggled out of Luca’s grasp, feeling his eyes on him as he walked to the bathroom on unsteady legs, depositing the condom and washing up, wetting a second washcloth for Luca.
When he came back, Luca was already sitting up, and he took the washcloth from his hand, like he didn’t want Oliver to even dream of using it on him.
Oliver didn’t know if he was relieved or not at how closed off Luca’s expression was.
Certainly it was easier to deal with than the impassioned longing he’d seen before, the look that had sent him running to the bathroom. But there was a pang of disappointment too.
Had he, deep down, truly wanted to hear what Luca had been about to say?
Even if it was going to hurt like hell tomorrow?
“Stay,” Luca said, patting the pillow next to him.
He didn’t ask if Oliver could.
Oliver debated. He’d already told Aaron he wouldn’t be in tomorrow morning. Had fully expected to spend it curled up on the couch, crying with a tub of Jenni’s ice cream, eating all his feelings.
As much as he wanted to spend one more night with Luca, the idea of prolonging this goodbye was painful.
You can have both, he reminded himself. He’d just slip out early. Kiss Luca on the forehead and leave before things could get any more fraught between them.
Make it easy. Simple.
Two things they weren’t at all, but still, maybe they could make it a clean break in the end.
At least before Oliver could figure out if he was willing to take the wild and slightly insane step of leaving Indigo Bay.
“Okay,” he said and settled back in bed.
Luca went to the bathroom. When he returned, he didn’t even bother putting his underwear back on. Before Oliver could ask him what he wanted, he was sliding into bed next to him, and tugging him over, until Oliver was lying draped across his chest.
It was easier this way, not being able to see his face.
Not easy.
But easier.
“I’m going to miss you,” Oliver said, hating the way his voice cracked.
Also, what a fucking understatement.
“Yeah.” Luca’s voice wasn’t quite steady either. And even though he didn’t say he’d miss Oliver too, Oliver knew it was true.