Chapter 1 #12
I can't sit here and basically confirm, out loud, "Yeah, mom, something is happening between me and him, but…it's nothing serious. We're just fucking like animals."
It sounds awful. It is awful.
"So... remind me, Noah's the tattoo artist, right?"
"Yeah."
"You two met in college?"
"Yeah."
"He's the one who did your tattoos, isn't he?"
I glance at her. "Yes. He's really good at this." She smiles faintly. Silence again. "Does he…know about Gio?"
I hesitate. "Yeah." I look out the window. "He knows too much." Another beat of silence. "So are you and Gio...seeing each other?"
"Kind of. In secret."
She nods, like that makes perfect sense. "And who knows?" "Lorenzo. Daisy. Noah." She doesn't say anything for a moment.
"And how do you feel about him?"
I inhale slowly. "It's not simple."
"I didn't ask if it was. I asked how you feel."
I shift in my seat. My hands are tight in my lap. "I feel like he ruins everything and makes it better at the same time. I feel like…like I'm not in control anymore."
She nods. Another pause. "Do you think it's serious?" I look down. Swallow. "It feels serious. At least for me." She smiles, gently. "That's not a bad thing, you know."
"Sometimes it feels like it is."
She sighs. She doesn't push more. Which, honestly, makes it worse. Then she shifts gears, literally and figuratively. "What are you planning for October?" I stare ahead. "I don't know..."
"You don't know?"
"I thought I did. But now…" I trail off. She gives me a look. "Rava. I know you. You've wanted to be a teacher since you were what—eight?" I say nothing. "I know it might seem hard, but don't throw that away because everything feels confusing right now."
Her voice stays calm, but it hits damn hard.
"You love working with kids! You love that world! Don't bury it just because it hurts to have to choose!"
And it does. It hurts. Because I know she’s right. And that's what makes it worse.
…
The airport exit appears up ahead. I rub my face with both hands. Great. Time to make things even messier.
The sliding doors open. First person who comes out is him.
Noah.
Flannel tied around his waist, hoodie half-zipped, tattooed hands gripping the handle of a beat-up suitcase that looks like it’s been to war. And those stupid sunglasses, inside the airport.
"MY BOY RAVA!" He throws both arms in the air like we haven't spoken yesterday. I feel myself smile, despite everything.
He jogs over and wraps me in a tight hug. "Shit, I missed you, man!"
"You literally saw my face yesterday."
"Yeah, well, FaceTime doesn't smell like Dior and anxiety."
I elbow him.
He pulls back, looks past me. "Is that your mom?"
"Yeah."
He stands straighter instantly, adjusts his sleeves. Suddenly well-behaved. Which is terrifying. "Mrs. Weston?" He offers his hand. "I'm Noah. I've heard about you for years. But I swear it was all good things."
My mom smiles. "Welcome to Italy, Noah. We're so happy you're here!"
"Trust me, I'm happier!" He winks, but nothing over the line. "You raised a good one."
She gives me a smile. I turn away. We start walking to the car.
Noah keeps the conversation flowing. Flight stories, weird snacks, the couple that cried the whole time behind him.
He knows exactly how to charm adults. But then as we reach the car and my mom moves to the driver's side… he leans closer.
Real close.
"Sooo... is Tattoo Boy real or was that all dramatic pining for nothing?" I turn and look at him. "No, man. I lied. He doesn't exist. I'm actually just seeing things."
Noah laughs. "At least you're seeing hot things. Your brain clearly knows what it wants. I just hope I find an Italian of my own."
We get in the car. I should've filmed the moment Noah sees the house. His jaw literally drops. "DUDE. You live here?? You never told me it was a palace. This looks like a Vogue photoshoot location, not a family home."
My mom laughs beside us, clearly charmed. "It's not that fancy."
"Ma'am," Noah says, placing a hand over his chest like he's pledging allegiance, "this staircase alone has more class than my entire apartment. Do you guys have a wine cellar? Don't tell me. I'll cry."
"You'll see it all soon. Come meet the rest," she says, already leading us into the living room. I exhale sharply. "Please behave." "Relax," he whispers. "I'm on my best guest behavior. Five-star version. Promise."
We step into the living room where my dad, Daisy, and Jin are already waiting.
I can practically feel the curiosity radiating off them.
Noah doesn't miss a beat. "Sir," he says, shaking my dad's hand, "thank you for letting me stay.
I promise I'll be on my best behavior. Which isn't great, but it's better than nothing. "
My dad gives a single nod. "We're happy to have you." Daisy jumps in immediately. "I'm so excited to finally meet you. I've heard so many stories."
"Only the good ones, I hope," Noah grins. "Or the hot ones. I accept both." And then, of course, Jin. He looks him up and down with that judgey little squint of his.
"Wait...are you the tattoo artist who used Rava's back as a sketchbook?"
Noah lights up. "HELL yeah, I am. Want proof?"
"Noah, don't you da—"
Too late. He grabs the hem of my shirt and yanks it up with zero warning.
"BOOM. Look at this masterpiece! That's a Noah original, people. Check this out. Clean lines. Sexy placement. Bleeding? Minimal. Trauma? Only emotional."
Jin blinks. "It looks like a motherboard had a baby with a scorpion."
"And it's HOT," Noah replies without missing a beat. "I'd hang it in the Louvre. But instead it's on this canvas, where it belongs." I yank my shirt back down, face burning. "Can you not strip me in front of my entire family?"
Noah grins at them. "Sorry. Kinda proud of my work. He screamed, by the way." My mom stifles a laugh. Daisy howls. My dad looks mildly alarmed. And Jin just looks like he regrets asking in the first place.
As soon as we get to my room, Noah throws himself onto the floor. "I already feel like this room has seen unholy things."
Well... this room's been mostly innocent. Relatively. I mean, sure, some very intense make-outs might have happened against that wall.
And yeah, Gio definitely touched me a lot but, in the grand scale of disasters? This room's tame.
Now Gio's room?
That's the room we convert into a live-action porn set. With a recurring cast of two and zero moral boundaries.
I side-eye Noah, dragging the folded extra mattress out from under my bed. "Come on, help me set this up, gremlin." He pops his head up. "RUDE. But fair."
We start unfolding it together, the whole thing creaking like it hasn't seen daylight since 2012. Noah grins. "Okay, spill. You and Gio—what's the damage? How many times? Have you done it in here? On this bed? Against that wall? On the floor? On that desk?"
"Shut the hell up," I snap, throwing a pillow at him. "Come on!" he laughs, catching it midair. "You're glowing like a guilty little bitch. I know you've done it in this room. Look at you!"
"Shut up, idiot," I hiss, slamming the door shut. "They'll hear you!"
"Oh please," he says. "If you were loud enough to be heard through these walls, this whole house would be haunted by now."
I glare. He winks.
Then he walks over to the window casually, and freezes.
Like, physically freezes. His hand is still on the curtain. His mouth drops open. "Rava."
No response. "Rava."
"What now."
He turns to me. "Is that—is that him?" I look over at Gio's window. He's on the floor, doing abs with no shirt on. His whole body is shining every time he comes up and goes back down. Lulu is sitting right next to him like his little furry personal trainer.
He finishes his set and just stays there, sprawled out on the floor, chest rising and falling.
I'm one second away from drooling all over the glass. I want to jump through the window and just land on him. I glance at Noah, who looks just as shocked as I feel.
That's right, baby. Your poor friend Rava makes that sex god drop to his knees. Couldn't be prouder of myself, honestly.
Noah lets out a gasp. "Holy mother of delusion. That's him? The one that's been rearranging your spine and your worldview?"
I groan. "Shut up, you maniac!"
"YOU HAD SEX WITH THAT?!"
I put my hand right on his stupid mouth. "Do you want my dad to show up with a shotgun?!?!?!?!" I snap. He puts both hands over his mouth like he's praying. "…You are the luckiest bitch I've ever met. I see the appeal now. You've been blessed, my dude. This explains your post-glow."
"I swear to god, if you call it a glow one more time—"
"I'm naming your sex tape Ride or Die, by the way. I can't believe this is your actual life," he murmurs. "I thought you were being dramatic, but no. He really is that hot. And he knows it, too. Look at the way he wipes that sweat."
I roll my eyes, but I can't stop the stupid smile tugging at my lips. I glance out the window again.
Okay. Yeah. He is. His hair is pushed back, messy and wet. I smile wider, before I can stop myself.
"You're smiling like a teenager in a coming-of-age movie," Noah says suddenly, turning to look at me. "Bro. You're in deep." I try to play it cool. "Shut up."
"No, no. This is adorable. You're completely gone. You're finished. I'm so proud. I always knew you needed someone to break you a little."
I laugh under my breath. He grins and turns back to the window. "He's got good hands. You can tell. Big, veiny, probably heavy. I bet they leave marks."
"Noah—"
"No, no, hear me out." He turns toward me, suddenly intense. "His right arm. You saw it, right? That blank space under his inner bicep?"
"Yeah?"
"I know exactly what tattoo would go there," he says, eyes gleaming. "It just hit me. It would be perfect." I narrow my eyes. "You are not tattooing Gio."
"Oh, I am tattooing Gio," he says.
"It's destiny. I brought my kit. You think I flew across the world without my needles? Please."
"Noah—"