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“No, it’s free. They don’t make us pay for anything. They have a luxury box they’re using.”
“Nice. I got invited to one at Citi Field for a Mets game. Swanky.” He speared more pasta and continued to eat.
“It’s a plus one event.”
“Really? They’re making you bring someone?”
“Not making us, but they made it clear this event welcomed significant others.” Why was he dancing around the issue? Nico wasn’t stupid, he’d figure it out. He needed to man up. “I wanted to know . . . would you be interested? In going with me?”
Nico’s gaze shot to his, something glistening in his eyes, but he blinked before Luke got a read. Nico dragged his fork through his dinner, head cocked to the side in thought. “Calling in your fake-boyfriend favor?”
Luke’s stomach flipped. “Sorta. I mean, if you don’t want to go, I understand.”
Nico didn’t answer immediately, which should have been enough for Luke to tell Nico it wasn’t important. Forget it.
Problem was, Luke didn’t want to tell Nico that.
“I have a question before I agree.”
Luke shifted nervously on his chair. “Shoot.”
“It doesn’t sound like you have to take someone, and it’s not like I’m a huge baseball fan.” Nico raised an eyebrow. “What’s the real reason you’re asking?”
Luke pushed his food away. Part of the reason made him look petty. What did it matter what Kent thought? Even if Nico didn’t go, Luke could still pretend he had an adoring boyfriend who didn’t think he was boring in the slightest.
He didn’t need Nico to come. He wanted him there. Really wanted him there. “I’d rather not go alone.”
“Because of Kent.” Nico cut through the bullshit, but his expression was unreadable.
Luke hated the stodgy feeling in his gut. Like maybe he was disappointing Nico.
“Not just to pretend I found someone new,” he rushed out. “He’s the only person I know. If I go by myself, I have to choose between talking to him and his new boyfriend, or being alone most of the time. And,” Luke looked over the table at him, “I like hanging out with you.”
Nico held his gaze for a moment before refocusing on his pasta. “You don’t care that I’m a baseball dunce?”
“Nope. I’ll gladly explain anything you don’t understand.”
“Even if I ask why there isn’t a coin flip before overtime?”
There it was again. Enough confidence in himself to poke fun at his past mistakes. Admirable. “Especially then.”
“Okay, I’m in.”
“Really? That’s awesome. I totally owe you.”
“Yep, you totally do.” Nico’s smirk didn’t bode well. “And with that, I have something to tell you.”
Was he serious? They hadn’t even gone to the game, and he was calling in the favor? “Why am I scared?” Why was his pulse beating so hard and his palms sweating?
“Because you think I’ll tell you what I demand in return for attending a baseball game. Nico exaggerated a shudder. “But you’re wrong.” He snapped a finger at Luke and returned to his dinner.
Luke waited, but Nico didn’t continue. After a couple of seconds, he pulled his plate closer. “And?”
Nico peered over the fork. “Not scared anymore?”
“Petrified.” The aroma of the madanad called back his appetite. He took another delicious bite.
“I have a part-time job.”
Luke jerked his head up to Nico, grinning. “What?
“A part-time job.” Nico preened liked he’d been elected king of the prom. “I told you I didn’t have enough to keep me busy.”
“Right, but you said no one would hire you for just a few weeks.”
“I was wrong. Someone did.”
Nico was skimping on the details on purpose. Two could play that game. “That’s great. I hope it works out for you.” Luke bit into his bread.
Nico glared at him. “You’re such a brat.”
“Me?” He sprayed bits of food onto the table. Putting his hand in front of his mouth, he added, “You were the one being coy.”
“Only because you thought the worst of me.”
Luke laughed. “You have to admit, the timing was really suggestive.”
“I admit to nothing, Mr. DeRosa.” Nico took a dramatic bite from his bread.
“Then continue to be delusional and dramatic, Mr. Amato.” Luke stuffed his fork into the pasta and chomped on the contents.
Nico’s mood flattened. He plastered on a smile, and Luke knew he’d fucked up. Said something wrong. Did he take offense to Luke’s joke?
Luke leaned back in his chair and studied Nico. Since their trip to New York, he’d returned to dressing in plain clothes. Cargo shorts and T-shirts mainly. Tonight was no exception.
The mystery was slowly solving itself, and the truth of it made Luke ache. He rubbed his jaw, unsure what to say. Whether he should say anything at all.
“I’m working at Esposito’s,” Nico said, and Luke put away his revelation to study later.
He flashed a grin at Nico. “You are working for the enemy?”
Nico rolled his eyes and raised his hand as if to gesture but dropped it quickly into his lap.
