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“Um, hello. A year in Italy.” I smile when he does.
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“Luca took me to some amazing vineyards while we were there and I really got a taste for the stuff.”
“Luca?” His shoulders stiffen.
“He’s a friend of mine that was in the same program as me. His family’s from Italy, but he was born here in the States. He was just as eager to explore as I was.”
“I see.” His eyes are on me as I make my way into the kitchen.
Pulling two glasses down from the cabinet, I grab a bottle of Moscato from the refrigerator before pouring us both half a glass.
“I tried so many wines while I was there, but this one is hands down my favorite.” I turn, finding him standing a couple of feet behind me. Clearing my throat, I extend his glass to him.
“What else did you and Luca do?” His voice changes when he says Luca’s name.
“Everything.”
“Everything?”
“Yeah, we took classes together, we went sightseeing together.”
“So you two have a lot in common?” He looks down at the glass in his hand.
“We do.” I can’t help but smile, realizing where his mind is going and knowing he couldn’t be further from the truth. “Including our taste in men.” His eyes dart up to mine and he couldn’t cover the relief that washes over his face if he tried.
“He’s gay?”
“Oh yeah.” I giggle, tipping the wine glass to my lips.
He follows suit, taking a small drink of his wine.
“Good, right?” I ask as he lowers his glass.
“Sweeter than I expected.”
“The sweet wines are my favorite. I tried liking dry wine, but I couldn’t get there.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever tried it.”
“You aren’t missing anything.” I jerk my head toward the couch. “You wanna sit?”
“Sure.”
He follows me through the open space, taking the spot on the couch opposite me. Instead of sitting back, he leans forward, resting his elbows just above his knees.
“I had this whole speech planned.” He keeps his gaze trained on his wine glass as he begins to speak. “I knew exactly what I needed to say. But when I saw you...” His words trail off.
“I read your serial. You wrote about me.” My voice is riddled with uncertainty.
“Of course I did. I’ve been writing about you for years.” His eyes swing to mine.
“Did you mean what you said? Was all of it true?”
“Every single word,” he answers without hesitation. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Just like you said you would be.” He’d written about showing up and declaring his love for me, but I never expected him to do it.
