Page 4 of Naz & Roz

TWO

Nazio Donati was a lot of things—patient in the face of bullshit was not one of them. And if one more person at this party thought that challenging his IQ was going to get them brownie points, he had news for them.

Time for a breather, man.

“Let’s head outside,” Naz said, already going in that direction. His companion followed behind without a complaint. Luca was good like that.

“Shit, I can’t believe Cece is actually getting fucking married,” Luca muttered.

Naz shot his best friend—and Zeke’s only son—a look. “Believe it.”

The nineteen-year-old Naz was only one year older than Luca, and sometimes, it didn’t seem like the two had much in common from the outside looking in. Yet, they had been attached at the hip from the time Luca was born.

Naz had a pretty good memory—he blamed it on the fucking genius thing. He could remember still being in diapers, and looking over a little gray crib to see a baby dressed in a blue sleeper looking back at him.

Luca, that was.

“Lost my chance with her,” Luca muttered.

Naz barked a laugh. “Fucker, you never had a chance with my sister.”

“Asshole.”

“Can’t help that you’re fucking delusional.”

Luca punched Naz in the back of the shoulder as they weaved in and out of the people flooding the house for the pre-wedding party. Cece wasn’t getting married for another month, but the celebration was in full force.

Any reason for an Italian to cook.

Or party …

They were all up for it.

Soon, Naz and Luca had pushed their way out onto the back porch where less people had gathered, and it wasn’t as fucking suffocating. God knew he loved his family, but they could be a little too much when they all got together in the same house.

Usually, they threw big parties like this at one of the family’s mansions where there was actual space between guests.

Cece wanted to have her party here at the Newport home. And Christ, their parents’ Newport home wasn’t even small. It was a three-level monster.

They just had a big ass family.

Like Juan, too, Cece’s fiancé.

It was what it was.

“Here,” Luca said.

He held out a freshly opened beer for Naz to take, and he was quick to down half of it in one go. He wasn’t typically a big drinker, but New York was having some kind of terrible heat wave this summer, and his throat was dry from talking so much.

Another thing Italians loved.

Talking.

“So, what do you think?” Luca asked, leaning against the railing.

Naz shot his friend a cocked brow. “About what, man?”

“The whole Cece getting married thing.”