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“You betcha. But I won’t.”

Nico shoulder-bumped him, their arms settling together—

The back door opened, and they jerked apart.

“Hey, guys,” Elisa said, face rosy from wine. “Dessert is ready.”

“Thanks, E. We’re coming in.” Nico grabbed his wineglass.

He couldn’t tell for sure, but Nico appeared to adjust himself before moving from the bench. That he kept his back to Luke was good: it gave Luke time to do the same.

After another glass of the “full-bodied” zinfandel and dessert, Luke sat in an armchair and basked in the merry buzz thrumming through his veins.

Dinner had been nice. Nicer was how Nico watched out for him, stopping his father from serving Luke a second glass of port. “He’s not used to this much wine, Papà,” he’d said. “Too much of this might make him sick.”

Someone clomped down the stairs. Had to be Nico. Everyone else said they were going to sleep. Bakers’ hours, Nico’s father said as he shook Luke’s hand.

Luke felt Nico’s presence prickle at his side and opened his eyes.

“Hey.” Nico grinned and set a glass of water on the table beside him. “Helps prevent hangovers.”

“I didn’t drink that much.”

“Port is notorious for giving hangovers.” Nico drained a third of his own glass.

Luke followed the example. “I have a question. A couple, actually.”

“Hopefully, I have good answers.”

He tried to give Nico what Nonna called the stink eye. “Right, because any old answer wouldn’t do.”

“I’m not the one who prefaced things with, ‘I have a question.’ Did you think I wouldn’t realize you were asking me something?”

“Remind me again why I came here?”

Nico snorted and perched on the arm of Luke’s chair. “Because you are one of the nicest guys on the planet and you didn’t want to see me suffer.”

Maybe it was the buzz playing tricks on him, but it didn’t sound like Nico was being sarcastic. “Right, not like I owed you or nothing.”

“If you really felt obligated, you’d have said no when I asked.” He toasted Luke with his water. Their glasses dinged. “You’re a good friend.”

Luke sucked in a deep breath. Friend. Yeah. Yeah, he liked the label.

So what if they’d only known each other a couple of weeks? Luke had never been so in tune with someone before. So comfortable.

Friend.

Friend.

Nico licked a drop of water from his finger, and Luke dropped his gaze resolutely to his glass. “What’s your first question, Luke?”

Luke rubbed the rim of his glass with his thumb and looked over at Nico’s pink shirt and tight—Christ, so tight—jeans. “You dressed different today.” Better.

A moment of silence stretched the air between them. “Was that supposed to be a question? Perhaps you need to revisit first grade English?”

“I mean, you’re dressed like the first couple of times I saw you.”

“Still not a question.”

“Why?”

Nico shrugged, and for one awful second Luke thought he’d get off the arm of the chair and force more distance between them. A tight laugh left Nico. One Luke didn’t trust a bit. “Nonna thinks I should dress nicer when we have company for dinner.”

Luke didn’t believe Nico for a second, but he also felt Nico’s resistance to talk about it. “Gotcha.”

He’d piece together the mystery another time.

“What’s your other question?” Nico asked.

Luke took another gulp of water. “What was up with all that tapping the glasses with knives?”

Nico squirmed on the arm of the chair. “Ah, that. Practice.”

“Practice? Does your family do the carol of the wine glasses instead of bells at Christmas?”

“You’re so not a real Italian.” Nico twisted so he faced Luke. “At Italian weddings—and major milestone anniversary parties, too—when someone wants the bride and groom to kiss, they tap their knife to the wineglass. If everyone joins in, the couple of the day has to oblige. Once they kiss, all the happy couples are supposed to join in.”

“And if a couple doesn’t kiss?”

“The rest of the family gossips about how they’re on the rocks.” Nico fanned his hands on his chest, mimicking the drama. “Did you see so-and-so? They didn’t kiss after the bride and groom. I bet there’s infidelity going on. Do you think she’s schtupping the bakery guy?”

“Schtupping? You made that up.”

Nico stared at him blankly. Finally, he shook his head, lips twitching. “No, I didn’t, but clearly civilization stops at the Mississippi river. It’s another word for shagging, bumping uglies, the mattress mambo, or if none of those ring a bell, fucking.”

Luke reached over Nico and set his glass on the table. The proximity of Luke’s arm over Nico’s warm lap had Nico tensing and Luke hurriedly pulled back. “So if a couple doesn’t kiss, your family will think there’s trouble in paradise?”

“It’s all talk. The older generation needs something scandalous to keep their blood moving.” He shrugged. “Nonno thinks it’s funny to make E and Elliott practice whenever they’re over for dinner.”

“And your parents and grandparents followed their lead.”

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