Chapter Ten
It was the strangest date of Enzo’s life, and, also, surprisingly, the most fun he’d ever had on one.
There were no expectations, no danger zones, no concerns about saying or doing the wrong thing, no awkwardness. It all dissolved in the headiness of doing and saying the most outrageous thing Enzo could come up with. Daring Will to do the same.
By the time they’d come to the end of the meal, his stomach hurt from laughing so hard and his cock was aching in his jeans. If he’d thought Will was gorgeous and wonderful before tonight, he was viscerally aware of it now.
Undeniably convinced that if he’d actually been sticking around Indigo Bay, he’d take this man to the Inn, press him back against one of those columns lining the porch, and give him a goodnight kiss either of them would forget anytime soon.
But he wasn’t staying and this wasn’t real.
The thought was a bucketful of cold water metaphorically dumped all over his desire—but it didn’t douse it entirely.
Maybe that was the shy, almost ashamed way Will’s gaze flicked to his. The real truth lingering there, that he couldn’t hide entirely, no matter how outrageous their nicknames were.
Enzo had made a big deal of paying for their dinner.
Of saying loudly they were going to go take a romantic walk through the park, under the stars.
Rocco had rolled his eyes a bit, but the way Will tucked his hand trustingly into Enzo’s and the faint flush across his cheekbones from the wine—and maybe everything else—made it all feel a little too real.
They were meandering through the park now, Enzo keeping half his brain on the statue of Eliza and half his brain on Will’s warm hand tucked into his own.
“So, how are we going to do this?”
“Do what?” Enzo asked.
“You know I’m living at the Inn. After . . .uh . . .that kind of evening, do you really think you’d leave me without . . .” Will trailed off, and Enzo saw his gaze dart to his lips.
And okay. Fair.
“I get the feeling you’re only willing to take this so far,” Enzo theorized.
He was only willing to take this so far.
If he kissed Will, he was going to want to do it for real. He was going to want it to be real.
Will nodded. “I don’t want to cross too many lines.”
“Me too,” Enzo agreed. “Not that doing it would be unpleasant, the opposite actually, I just think it would be—”
“Confusing. Complicated,” Will finished for him. “Too confusing. Too complicated.”
“Yes.” Enzo was relieved they were on the same page.
Just another page in the growing book of evidence that his mother hadn’t been completely wrong and they were more than a little right for each other.
Their permanent location notwithstanding.
Obviously Will lived here. And Enzo had made a very serious promise to himself that he’d never live here again. He was frankly happier living out of a suitcase, not having any kind of home at all, than coming back to Indigo Bay forever.
“Alright, so how are we going to do this?” Will repeated. “Nobody would ever believe you’d leave me un-kissed if we were . . .what did you call it? Falling wildly in love?”
“True.” It was a conundrum. Will had a very good point. Joy would undoubtedly be at the Inn. Probably situated in a way that would make it impossible to avoid the inevitable while maintaining their fiction.
“We could just part ways here.”
“And I let you go home alone? I don’t even drop you off at the Inn?” Enzo shook his head emphatically. “I’m trying to prove I’m a better date than I was with Oliver. How would that prove anything?”
Will looked torn. For a second, Enzo was almost tempted to say, fuck it, we both want to do it, for real, and so let’s just do it. How bad could it be?
Bad, because Will would want him to stay. Bad, because he might want to stay.
They were playing with fire here.
“I have an early morning. So do you. We could just use the excuse of our work.”
“How about this? We’ll use that excuse and when you see Joy, make sure to tell her I gave you a very romantic, very private kiss out here, in the park, under the stars.
Luca kissed Oliver for the first time right by this statue.
Peak romance at work there. She’ll buy it. Then repeat it to my mother, for sure.”
“What if I’m not convincing?” Will actually looked worried about this.
“How about this: we’ll do everything but, and that’ll give you a template for the story you need to tell,” Enzo said and tugged him in closer.
They stopped near the statue. Enzo’s body tucked into Will’s bigger one.
Maybe if he’d realized just how well they fit together, he wouldn’t have been quite so willing to agree to this.
Or to the boundaries. But those ships had sailed.
“What do you mean?” Will asked in a hushed whisper. “What are we doing?”
“This,” Enzo said and tucked his head in close, arms encircling Will’s taut waist. Will’s hand hesitated over his back—Enzo could feel the warmth of it—before he gave up and he swept it up and down Enzo’s back in mesmerizing strokes.
He was hard as a rock and only by angling his hips just enough could he hope to keep it secret. But then Enzo had a feeling Will was doing the exact same thing.
We’re pathetic. Smart but also very, very stupid.
“Okay?” Enzo asked, tilting his chin up, and nobody would look at them right now, Will’s gaze intensely fond, Enzo probably as awestruck as he felt, and think any of this was fake.
“It’s good.” Will licked his lips, and his gaze flicked to Enzo’s. But they’d agreed they weren’t doing it. They weren’t closing this distance between them.
“Could be better,” Enzo said wryly.
Will nodded and tucked his head in, dipping it low, lips barely brushing over Enzo’s neck. Enzo felt himself inhale sharply. But he didn’t move. Didn’t think he could move.
“As good as we’re getting,” Will finally said, right before he released him.
Enzo didn’t want to leave the warm circle of his arms, but if he didn’t, he wouldn’t.
“Did that . . .uh . . .give you enough inspiration?”
“Yeah.” Will’s voice was deep and a little rough, scraping over Enzo’s nerves. “Plenty. I know just what I’ll say.”
Enzo was not tempted at all to follow him to the Inn and listen to Will telling his side of the encounter. Nope. Because if he did, that would totally defeat the whole point of what they were trying to do. Because if he did, there was no way they’d avoid kissing for real.
And you really want to.
“Text me after and let me know how it goes,” Enzo said.
Will shot him a knowing grin. “You wanna know what I’m gonna say.”
“Well, yeah.” He was trying to be good, trying to do the right thing, not dead.
“Between the two of us, you’re the one famous for his imagination,” Will teased. “I think you’ll be able to fill in the blanks.”
Enzo made a face but he nodded. “Fine. Yes.” He did not add that he’d be filling in those blanks while he touched his cock and imagined that his hand was bigger and calloused with work. That it was attached to a big mountain of a man with kind blue eyes.
“Goodnight, Enzo,” Will said. “Thanks for dinner. For uh . . .the laughter. And everything.”
“Honestly, it was my genuine pleasure, Stud Muffin,” Enzo said and meant it.
Will smiled and turned away, heading towards the Inn.
Enzo knew he should turn and go, too—the other way—but instead, he stood there for a long time, watching as Will’s figure disappeared into the darkness.
Finally, when he couldn’t see it any longer, he turned and headed towards his mom’s house.
And, to his surprise, it was dark again.
Where was his mother and what was she doing during these long evenings?
It was almost ten at night. She should be home. He’d fully expected that she would be, and she’d be incredibly eager to hear how it had gone. That he’d be giving his own recital of the date.
Enzo stared at the empty dark house and then finally went up the stairs to his old apartment over the garage. Regretting that it was also dark. And lonely.
There was no mountain of a man waiting for him, and no blue eyes full of laughter as Enzo called him the most ridiculous nicknames he could come up with.
Being alone had never bothered Enzo before. He remembered when he moved out of Chiara and Ilaria’s loft to his own tiny studio, and how he’d gloried in the silence. How he’d never once come home and thought, isn’t it just a little too quiet? like he was doing now.
“Stop it,” he told himself, out loud. “Just fucking stop it.”
His brain didn’t need to supply any more reasons to want Will Johnson. Or any more reasons it was a terrible idea. Including that he was apparently now missing him even though he’d just walked away.
Will swore he could feel Enzo’s gaze on him long after he turned and headed back to the Inn. Even though he told himself it wasn’t real, that Enzo wasn’t watching him, wasn’t following him, he felt the weight of that stare on him all the way back to Joy’s house.
Just like he’d expected, there was Joy sitting on one of the long, shallow porch swings, but to his surprise, she wasn’t alone.
Nope. Even Giana was lying in wait for them.
Her eyes brightened when she saw Will and then dimmed when she realized he was alone.
Great.
It was going to be awkward enough to relate the story of his date with Enzo to Joy, but to do it in front of his mother?
Well.
Buck up, Buttercup, he could hear Enzo teasing in his head. Steady on, Stud Muffin.
“Good evening, ladies,” Will said, stopping in front of the pair of them.
“I hope your evening was good,” Giana said, a twinkle in her eye. “Especially since you’re here alone. I was expecting to see Enzo with you.”
I just bet you were.
“Ah, well, it was late, and we’ve both got an early start in the morning,” Will said, waving his hand. “You know how it goes.”
“Was it not delightful? Was Enzo not a gentleman?” Giana asked.
“G,” Joy said under her breath, nudging her, “leave him alone.”
“He was a perfect gentleman.” Kind of perfect in general.