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Nico: Why?
Elisa: She didn’t say, but I think she wants to meet your boyfriend before the wedding.
Nico: So would I.
Nico tossed his phone onto the cushion next to him. Why did everything have to be a struggle? The reason he came to Philadelphia was to avoid talking about his nonexistent love life with his family. Everyone else took the hint, but not his grandmother. He loved Nonna, but she didn’t know when to stop.
He reviewed the materials from the florist. The flowers the planner had picked for the tables didn’t go with the type of reception his sister wanted. Elisa would have the final say, but he wanted to give her some different options.
The bakery wasn’t his favorite either. They felt too commercial, less family focused. Esposito’s website said they made wedding cakes, and he put a visit to their shop on tomorrow’s list of things to do.
Checking the time—five thirty—he wondered when Luke would be home. If he’d be home. Maybe his summer intern class would go out together, or the firm would take them to dinner. Either way, Nico didn’t feel right texting to ask. They were just roommates.
Roommates. He needed to remind himself of that.
Sure, there had been some startling electricity between them, but he wasn’t ready to jump into something new. Wasn’t ready to get burned by another jock so soon.
Besides, Luke still had it bad for his ex. Nico wouldn’t piss on Tomas if he was on fire. Luke would bring the fire department to help Kent.
He’d bet good money Sebastian would figure Kent out sooner rather than later. Three guesses where Kent would come running when that happened.
Way too messy.
He uncoiled himself from the couch, dragged his stiff limbs to the bedroom, and changed into his running clothes.
He tucked his right leg under him and began to stretch. A run would do him a world of good.
A bit after six thirty, Nico let his thoroughly sweaty self into the apartment. He’d have been home fifteen minutes sooner if Mrs. R hadn’t stopped to thank him for the pastries. Fifteen minutes to say what he could have said in fifteen seconds. But she was alone, so he listened with a smile. Not like he had big plans for Monday night.
He’d just gotten under the shower spray when Luke announced his return.
“I’m home.”
“How was your first day?” He almost added “dear” at the end but wasn’t sure Luke would get his humor.
“Good, bad, great, interesting, take your pick.” From the sound of his voice, Luke had entered the bathroom. “Hey, would it gross you out if I peed while you’re in there? I really need to go.”
“No, as long as I don’t see it.” He wouldn’t mind seeing it, just not while Luke was peeing.
“Really? And here I got the impression you were into that kind of kink.”
Before Nico could poke his head out of the curtain, he heard the telltale sound that kept him behind the opaque vinyl sheet. “I don’t know where you get your information, Mr. DeRosa, but it is sorely lacking.”
His southern belle voice laced with a New York accent earned him the desired laugh.
“Yes, Ms. Scarlett.” The toilet flushed, and Nico thought he heard Luke leave. The voice from the bedroom confirmed it. “Did you go for a run?”
“Oh, shit,” he whispered. He’d left his sweaty clothes all over the floor. “Sorry, I didn’t expect you back.”
“I figured.” Luke sounded closer. “How was it?”
“It’s a work in progress.” He rinsed the last of the soap from his body. “I need to find a route with fewer lights. And a better time to go. Too many people on the sidewalk.”
“Yeah, I can imagine.”
Nico shut off the water and pulled back the curtain. The door closed as he reached for his towel.
After drying off and combing his hair, Nico wrapped the towel around his waist. When he exited the bathroom, Luke was in the bedroom pulling on a T-shirt.
“Sorry again.” Nico scooped up his sweaty clothes and stuffed them into a laundry bag.
“No worries, really.” Luke carefully put his suit pants through the hanger, his back to Nico. “How’d day one of being a wedding planner go?”
“Pretty good. I don’t like the bakery the last planner chose, and I’m pretty sure my sister won’t like the flowers.”
“That’s a good day?” Luke hung his suit in the closet. “Sounds like the old planner did a crap job.”
“More a matter of taste.” He shucked the towel and stepped into clean boxer briefs. “I know Elisa better. The venue is top-notch, and the band will be fine. They know all the Italian favorites and promise to play the Tarantella. Not that my family has any idea how to actually do the folk dance. They just hold hands and dance around in a circle.”
“That’s more than I’d know to do. I’ve never heard of it.” Luke turned around and paused, bottom lip dropping. After a few seconds, he blinked. “I guess it wasn’t such a bad day.”
