by Andy Gallo
Nico
Nico was buzzed, and not just from the wine.
Luke standing up for him at dinner—telling him he liked his jacket—threaded warmly through his veins. Gave him this weird, hopeful feeling. Like maybe . . . maybe Luke wouldn’t be like any of the past guys he’d dated.
He wanted to take tonight as proof they could be something, but doubt nagged in his mind.
He heard the echo of Luke’s laughter . . . remembered that first scathing look.
Nico was too scared about being wrong. His trust had been broken one too many times. His heart couldn’t take it.
Especially not with Luke. Especially not with the way Nico was falling for him.
Especially not since Luke still used Nico as a fake boyfriend to make his ex jealous.
But . . . damn it. He loved this flirting. Loved their chemistry in bed together. Loved living with him . . .
Nico needed to tread with caution.
And maybe he needed to expose the true Nico and see how long Luke hung around then.
Nico ran his finger around the lip of his wine glass. “Do you have plans next Friday night?”
Luke’s bewildered expression turned Nico’s stomach. “Are you calling in your favor?”
“No,” Nico said, his hand trembling as he sipped his wine. “Isaiah and his boyfriend, Darren, are performing at a charity event at Darren’s childhood house. It’s to raise money for children’s cancer research.”
“That’s admirable.”
“Yeah, and Isaiah is an amazing pianist. Darren agreed to play if Isaiah would. He plays saxophone and banjo.”
“Banjo?” Luke snorted. “Really?”
“Evidently he had dreams of being a Mummer before someone reminded him he had to run the company one day. Anyway, I got comped two tickets. Isaiah and Darren know we’re not a couple. So we could go as friends.”
“Friends.” Luke nodded slowly.
Nico pinched the stem of his glass, ignoring how his stomach fluttered seeing Luke’s disappointment with the label.
Nico needed to be sure. Really, really sure. The sureist.
“It could be good fun? It’s a black-tie event, so we get to dress up.”
Luke eyed Nico’s sports jacket, and his eyes hit Nico’s warmly. “Dress up?”
“Is that a yes?”
Nico: Here. Holy Shit Chateau Gage is HUGE!
Isaiah: Ha! I'll have Darren come find you.
Nico couldn’t stop eying the way the sleek black tux hugged Luke perfectly. “You look great,” Nico murmured absently.
They were moving up a grand path toward a lit mansion, pockets of finely dressed elite ahead of them.
Luke adjusted his coat, flashing him a grin. “Good thing Rocco ‘knew a guy’ who could hook us up at the last minute.”
Nico snorted. “What can I say? We take care of our own.”
Luke’s gaze swept over Nico and his smile radiated. “I didn’t think you could look any hotter than you did last weekend, but I was wrong. Aaaand, I probably shouldn’t have said that. There won’t be enough room in the mansion for your big head.”
Nico scoffed, but his stomach twisted.
Luke gestured to the ground. “They even have a red carpet for you to walk.”
“Actually, dahling, I think it was put out for you.” Nico tensed, waiting for Luke’s response—
Luke grabbed Nico’s hand and tugged him close. He spoke low in his ear, almost tutting. “You don’t take compliments well.”
Nico shivered, and Luke’s warm hand pumped his twice before letting go.
Darren’s parents greeted them at the door. Nico had met them at one of Darren’s soccer games. When he first met Darren, Isaiah had been hopeless when it came to soccer. Much like Nico was with baseball. He’d been Isaiah’s ‘beard’, chatting with the Gages about the game.
When Mrs. Gage saw them, her face lit up. “Oh, my!” She fanned her face, and Nico remembered how much he’d loved her company.
“You look amazing, Mrs. Gage.”
“I know I told you to call me Peg,” she said, hugging him.
“And I know I told you that would never happen.” He inched to his right, bringing Luke forward.
Mrs. Gage cut across him, eagerly. “You must be Nico’s boyfriend.” She gave him a hug.
To his credit, Luke didn’t let her pronouncement faze him, and he returned the embrace.
He laughed nervously, and they shuffled along to allow the hosts to meet their other guests.
Inside, Luke reached for Nico’s hand again. Perhaps Luke thought they were back to faking for the night?
Nico could’ve told him otherwise.
Should’ve.
But, fuck, it felt too nice.
He searched for Isaiah as he and Luke took in the grandeur of the Gages’ home.
“Nico!”
He turned just in time for Isaiah’s bear hug.
“I missed you,” Isaiah said when he let go. His gaze darted to their still-joined hands before he looked up, a dozen questions sparking his eyes. “Nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise. Nico texts you so often, I feel like you live with us.”
Isaiah’s gaze kept dropping to their hands. “I think I might have missed a few texts.”
Nico eyed him hard, silently begging him to drop it. “Later,” he mouthed, and Isaiah grinned and let it go.
“Enjoy the show; we’ll catch up after.”
Nico
Isaiah: What are you doing tomorrow? Darren wants to go out before I go home Sunday.
Nico: Can’t. Luke’s company picnic is tomorrow.
Isaiah: You still pretending you’re pretending to be boyfriends?
Nico: We’re not boyfriends.
Nico growled, frustrated as much with himself as with Isaiah. Of course people thought they were dating; whenever they went out together, they played fake boyfriends. And then they came home to eat their meals together and sleep in the same bed.
And even after a week of ramping up his flair for the dramatic, Luke still smiled at him brightly. Hell, maybe even more brightly.
Those smiles were screwing with him. Made him so close to admitting he wanted to drop the fake boyfriend act and do the true boyfriend act.
Except.
Luke still asked him to attend company things to make Kent jealous.
He poked a fork into his cold lemon chicken. The green beans and rice were cold now too. Cold like his appetite.
He’d cleared away Luke’s place setting. No sense having it out when he had to stay late to deal with some Kent nonsense.
At least he’d texted to say he wouldn’t be home for dinner.
Another bite, and his stomach revolted. He couldn’t eat anymore.
The hand-holding business and snuggling at nights . . . those smiles.
Luke acted like he wanted Nico, but he couldn’t wean himself away from his ex.
If only Nico could pull back, become more detached . . .
If only pigs could fly.
Tomorrow he was expected to don a happy face and put on a show again. Part of him wanted to, because he was addicted to imagining what it would be like for real. The other part told him to go out with Isaiah and Darren. Stop setting his heart up for another beating.
Nico wrapped up the food and stared at the pans. When Luke cleaned, Nico didn’t mind helping. It didn’t feel like a chore. Alone, it sucked. With each pan he set out to dry, the hope that Luke would get home before he finished dimmed.
Was Luke enjoying dinner with Kent tonight?
Fuck.
The last pot clean, Nico dried his hands on the dishtowel. Growing up, there was always someone around. Loud, noisy, demonstrative family. Without Luke, the silent apartment left him anxious.
He took a quick shower and readied himself for bed.
At nine forty-five. On a Friday night.
He rarely went to bed this early on a weekday, but on a weekend? Fuhgeddaboudit.
N
ico flopped back onto his pillow and lay there in the silence of their apartment.
What was wrong with him? Normally he was good at bottling his feelings. Those who weren’t available, were unattainable, or didn’t want him, he simply left alone.
Then Luke bowled into his life.
Nico rolled over and stared at Luke’s empty space in the bed. The stupid bed they shared.
“Stupid fucking Amazon.” If they’d had the mattress, they’d never have crossed the line. Nico would never have known how intensely compatible they were.
And he would not be fretting about play-acting Luke’s boyfriend—again—at the picnic tomorrow.
Chapter Fourteen
Luke
Luke: Nico’s acting weird today.
Coury: Can’t imagine why.
Luke: You’re not helping.
Coury: Maybe if you told him you’re not faking anymore it might help.
Luke stood in the shade of a large oak tree, watching his colleagues clumped together eating, drinking, schmoozing, flute glasses in their hands. Less like a picnic and more like Sunday brunch outside. Or a cocktail party with food.
Breezes washed over his face. Fresh, but not fresh enough to clear his pounding head. He leaned against the knotty tree trunk and grumbled at his phone. At Coury’s messages.
Coury was right. Luke wasn’t faking it anymore. Hadn’t been for a while.
The guy pushed every one of Luke’s buttons. Every. Damn. One.
Problem was, every time he thought he and Nico were getting closer, Nico pulled back. Since the charity event, he’d distanced himself even more.
Nico might have spent the day smiling and tossing out quick comebacks but there was a rigidness to his expressions, his posture.
Had Luke’s forthrightness made Nico uneasy? Did Nico know how Luke felt? Was he letting him down quietly?
Or was Nico still processing it? Still deciding what he wanted?
God, Luke just wanted to haul him aside and talk through this.
But he got it. Living together made things awkward. Nonverbal communication kept everyone’s pride intact.
Sure, Luke would love it if they talked and Nico said he was into him too.
But what if Nico rejected him? He’d be mortified. He’d have to live with Nico and accept his worst fear that he was too boring for anything serious.
Nico curved around a picnic blanket, two wineglasses in his hand. He smiled as he approached and passed Luke a drink. “Not sure this merlot is as nice as the riesling we had at the game, but it’s not bad.”
Luke tasted his. He couldn’t tell full-bodied from plain old nice. “I got nothing.”
“I’m making it my mission to teach you good wine from bad,” Nico said easily and then pivoted sharply, frowning into another sip. Like he’d forgotten himself. Luke pinched his wineglass hard, and Nico continued, “I didn’t know this was part of Fairmont Park. Not that I’m an expert on Philadelphia parks.”
“Me neither.” The Lemon Hill Mansion behind them was amazing. “I still can’t believe the firm was able to book a museum for our picnic.”
“It takes money to maintain historical buildings.” Nico spread his arms wide. “I’ll bet the security deposit is huge.”
Luke loved when Nico injected life into the mundane. He made everything more interesting. He made everyone feel welcome. Like they belonged.
Luke swallowed, glancing around the fancy picnic. A far cry from life back home in the Midwest.
Nico leaned against the tree trunk beside him, arms infuriatingly close and not close enough. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“Just wondering if this was the life I wanted.” He shrugged.
“Funny how the world expects us to chart our life at an age when science says our decision-making ability isn’t fully developed.” Nico stared into the crowd. “No wonder ‘midlife crisis’ is a thing.”
“You seem to know what you want.”
Nico shook his head. “It’s not the same. The bakery comes with my family.”
“That’s . . .” Pure Nico. “An amazing way to put it.”
“It’s true. When I’m around them, I’m grounded. I don’t want a world without family.” Nico never looked over, but he swallowed loudly.
Luke twisted and stared at Nico. “Penny for your thoughts.”
Nico’s fake smile slammed into place, and he grinned at Luke. “I’m wondering if we should brave the line for food yet.”
Luke forced down a sigh and held out his hand. “We could both stand to be brave.”
The line moved faster than they thought. Luke’s plate was piled with flounder in a cream sauce, rice, green beans, and pasta salad. Nothing he’d ever had at a picnic back home. Except the rolls. He took three and extra butter.
They found a table and sat across from each other, Nico constantly scanning the crowds. Halfway through his meal, Nico latched on to something, and his face fell. Luke jerked his head in the direction—
Ah, fuck. Kent and Sebastian had arrived.
“Mind if we join you?” Without waiting for a reply, Kent took the seat next to Luke.
Sebastian’s face twitched, but he recovered instantly and set his food on the table next to Nico.
“So, Sebastian.” Nico’s voice broke the awkward silence, and Luke froze. “My family is staying at your hotel for my sister’s wedding.”
“Really?” Sebastian smiled, and it seemed to ease the tension. “Which one?”
“Eighteenth and something.” Nico shrugged. “It’s down near the Ben Franklin Parkway.”
“Gotcha. That’s the Parkway hotel.” He snorted. “I know. So original. When’s the wedding?”
“Next weekend. But my parents stayed there last weekend and said it’s really nice.”
“It was renovated last year.” He wiped his mouth. “I’ll talk to the GM to be sure they give your family the best rooms.”
“I’m sure all the rooms are great, but that’s really nice of you.”
“Seb’s that kind of guy,” Kent said, reaching across the table. “Always thinking of others.”
Sebastian glared at Kent for a moment, pulled his hand back, and took out his phone. “Give me your contact information, Nico. I’ll set up a meeting with the general manager.”
Kent tensed next to Luke as their boyfriends exchanged numbers. When Nico and Sebastian put their phones away, Kent nudged Luke. “Some game last night, eh? Harper really crushed those two homers.”
What was he up to? “Yeah.”
“The bullpens really had to work overtime once it got to extra innings.”
Luke’s gaze darted to Nico, who sat rigid, donning his fakest smile. But even that cracked, and Luke glimpsed a hint of moisture in his eyes.
Fuck.
“I wonder if the other manager flipped a coin before pitching to Harper in the twelfth with two on and one out,” Kent continued. “Tough call, you know?”
Nico stood and snatched his glass from the table. “I’m getting a refill. Anyone need anything?”
He walked off before anyone could answer. Sebastian looked between Luke and Kent. “What’s that about—”
Luke lurched to his feet, glaring at Kent. “You’re such an asshole, you know that? I shouldn’t be surprised, given . . .” He swallowed the urge to call Kent a lying, cheating asshole. “Enjoy the rest of the picnic.”
He needed to find Nico.
There was no sign of him near the open bar, and he wasn’t in the food tent. Luke scrubbed his face. How fucking stupid was he to tell Kent anything. From his smarmy tone, it was clear Kent had been waiting for the right time to drop those lines.
“Luke?” He looked up and found Mrs. Umstead across from him. “Something wrong?”
“Just looking for Nico.”
“Is everything okay? You look pale.”
“A bit too much sun, I think.” Good thing he didn’t bring his wineglass with him. “You didn’t see him, did you?”
She nodded, and
Luke’s spirits rose. “He went inside the museum. It’s cooler there if you need to rest.”
He barely said thank you before rushing off. Nico wasn’t in the foyer. There were two doorways to choose from. He took the one straight ahead. Three steps in, his shoes squealed against marble as he stopped.
Nico stood bent over an exhibit. Both hands gripped the sides of the plastic case surrounding a model of some building.
“Nico—”
“Don’t.” It was barely more than a whisper, but it struck Luke right in the gut.
“It’s not like you think. Kent twisted my words.”
Nico snorted. “You told him what I said.”
“I found it endearing. I was telling him what a great guy you are.”
Nico held a palm up. “Just forget it. I’m just being overly dramatic. Did you tell him that too?”
“What the hell? No.”
Nico kept moving toward the next presentation.
Luke followed, voice growing more desperate, “I told him how before the Phillies game you spent time learning about baseball. That I thought it was sweet of you.”
Nico’s posture remained stiff, but he didn’t squeeze the display case at this stop.
“I know how it looks, but I didn’t say it to put you down.” And the asshole twisted it around and flung it back at Nico to make him look like a fool. “I should have known better than to confide in him.”
Nico’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “It’s fine.”
It wasn’t fine.
Nico should yell at him. Tell Luke what an idiot he was for trusting a lying, cheating jerk like Kent.
He inched closer. When Nico didn’t move, Luke shuffled closer still.
“Nico?” He tentatively put a hand on Nico’s shoulder and closed his eyes.
A hand landed on his and gave it a squeeze. “It’s okay. Really.”
Luke shifted beside Nico, and when Nico turned, Luke opened his arms.
