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Luke sank back in his seat. “Thought you were . . .”
“Calling you a girl?” Nico snorted. “Yeah, no. At least not on the first date.”
His joke landed like an anvil, and Luke stiffened.
“That’s a joke.” Nico swallowed a sigh. “The more nervous I am, the worse they get.”
Awkward tension tugged at Nico’s stomach. They’d chatted so easily online; he’d expected—hoped for—smooth sailing.
Luke rubbed his nape, looking like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t for the life of him find words.
Nico tapped his fingers over the tabletop and addressed the elephant in the room. “About the other day. I’d been freshly dumped. It was a shitty day. Sorry about the face punching.”
A smile smoothed the lines on Luke’s brow. The first smile Nico had ever seen on the guy. The corners of Luke’s lips twitched, and his brown eyes sparkled warmly. The intensity of it was enough to make Nico shiver.
“Not to sound all competitive,” Luke said, voice creamy and deep, “but that was the day my ex dumped me . . . in an email.”
“An email?”
“I was taking a walk after reading it. A grumpy stomp, if we’re being accurate.”
Nico raised his hands. “You win the shittiest day contest.”
“An award I could’ve lived without.”
“Don’t try to pawn it off on me. I win it often enough.”
They laughed, and some of the awkwardness dissipated. Not enough that Nico forgot the look Luke had given him when they first met, but enough to settle into the conversation.
Luke regarded Nico, eyes roaming his face. Nico shivered under it, battling the wave of inferiority that rushed up his chest. So what if Luke didn’t like what he saw?
They were there about a room, not anything else.
Luke’s gaze narrowed on Nico’s lips, and Nico wished he could rewind that afternoon on the phone with Elisa. Wished he hadn’t been quite so dramatic. Wished he’d said something that Luke might have grinned at . . .
Nico glanced away from him, struggling to keep the emotion off his face. The disappointment.
“Can we start this over?” Luke held out his hand. “Lucas DeRosa. Luke.”
Nico swallowed. “Nico Amato . . . Nicodemo really, but please, do not call me that. My mother uses it when she’s mad.”
Another smile.
Fuck, those were going to be problematic.
“Sure. I’ll stick with Nico.” Luke removed the Harrison Baseball cap and ran his hand up and down the back of his head. “So this roommate thing . . .”
“Yeah . . .”
“Here’s the thing, I really need a roommate this summer and you were . . . are the only one who responded that could possibly work. Do you want to talk or do we pick up our bat and ball and go home?”
Instinct told Nico to take the opening Luke gave him and leave. They’d gone from sure they were compatible to “might possibly work” in three minutes. If he signed the lease, they’d be stuck together all summer.
Could he really blame their rocky in-person start on them both having craptastic days right before they met?
Nico wanted to, but was that his dick talking?
A pulsation from his watch reminded him he needed to answer Elisa. He gnawed his lip and threw himself in the fire. “Yeah, okay. Let’s give this a shot.”
Chapter Four
Nico
Nico stared at the lit-up Pi Zeta Eta house. Music and the booming chant of a couple dozen jocks made the path vibrate. Isaiah squished his nose in distaste, and Nico was almost sorry he’d dragged him here. Almost.
Nico had insisted Isaiah come along, laughing that it’d be shits and giggles. Just a quick mission in and out to retrieve his portable charger. Tomas knew he was coming for it.
Really, Nico had towed him there for moral support, because looking at the monster frat house reminded Nico of his place. Or better said, reminded him where his place wasn’t.
Jocks didn’t like him. Didn’t get him. Never would.
“You sure this is a good idea?” Isaiah asked warily.
“If I don’t get it back today, he’ll need to send it to me. Which I know he’d never do. So.”
“Yeah, but it’s just a portable charger.”
“I paid over a hundred dollars for it.”
“Right, but you barely used it before you loaned it to Tomas. Why the burning need to get it back now?”
“I loaned it to him when we were together. Me and my stuff are a package deal. You don’t get to keep my things if you break up with me.”
“So, it’s the principle.”
That sounded better than because he’d seen Tomas laughing with his mates at the cafeteria and had the petty urge to wipe at least half the smirk off his face. Seriously, why did Nico have to be the only one who felt like shit? “Exactly.”
“Are you sure about this?”
Was he? Probably not, but . . . “He didn’t want me, ’Saiah.”
