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But Adam knowing changed nothing. It meant Adam had more time to prep, to go through the apartment and take the things he wanted and the things he needed. He’d be around to help Noah strip the place down to bare bones when it was time.
That was months away, but it felt like he could blink, and it would all be over.
More than anything, he wanted to finish up this night and get back to Adriano’s. He wanted to lose all sense of self, all sense of awareness, except the places where Adriano dragged pleasure from him. He just wanted to notthink.
Noah startled when the door opened, and he looked up at Adriano. His hands froze where they were kneading the dough. Adriano looked shaken. His face was a little pallid, his eyes half-lidded, mouth in a deeper frown than usual.
His gaze locked on Noah, then he set the beer down hard and crossed the room, sweeping Noah into his arms, floured apron and all.
“Hey,” Noah soothed, pulling back.
Adriano’s palm cupped Noah’s cheek, and his thumb trailed a path under Noah’s left eye. ‘Crying?’
Noah let out a small sigh, and he knew there was no point in lying. ‘Yes. This morning. Adam was here.’
Adriano scowled. ‘He hurt you?’
Noah took a step back and tried for a smile he hoped was soothing. ‘No. I told him the truth about my grandmother leaving me the bakery while it was in massive debt and about it going under. I told him I was selling the building and the apartment.’
‘He was angry?’
Noah shook his head. ‘Sad. He was frustrated I didn’t tell him before. We don’t communicate well.’
Adriano snorted in amusement and gathered Noah close again, kissing him, though it lacked the passion of the last few days. When he pulled back, he didn’t step far away, just enough so he could drop his head down to rest against Noah’s.
They stayed that way for what felt like forever, then Adriano stepped back and let Noah get to the dough. ‘How can I help?’
Noah raised a brow at him. ‘You can tell me what’s wrong.’
Adriano looked a little put-out, then glanced back at the door he’d shut when he’d come in. ‘Personal stuff.’ Noah winced, and Adriano looked immediately apologetic. ‘My ex is getting married.’
Noah’s eyes went wide, and he pushed the dough aside to let it rest for a minute. ‘Eric?’
Adriano’s eyes darkened. ‘Yes. To Xander.’
‘Your agent?’ Noah clarified.
‘E X,’ Adriano spelled, his fingers sharp. He pulled out his phone and opened his Twitter app. It was already loaded to Eric’s Twitter. Noah had followed it once. Eric was a funny guy, witty and sharp. Adriano had more followers, but Eric had enough for a verification check, and he was always responsive.
Noah had been jealous, but he’d also liked the guy before he knew what he was capable of doing to someone Noah cared about.
@ChaddicusRex: sometimes when life closes one door, three more open. Can’t wait to make @XanderBlessingame an honest man, though neither of us are innocent enough for that. I wish I could invite you all to the wedding, but you’ll be there in spirit.
Noah read it, then reread it, then looked up at Adriano and searched his face. He was angry—that much was obvious—and maybe a little hurt. Noah didn’t blame him for that. He felt some measure of relief, though, when he didn’t find heartbreak, but he wondered if that was cruelly selfish, considering how long Eric and Adriano had been together.
‘What can I do?’ Noah asked.
Adriano made a soft noise and brushed his thumb over Noah’s lips, then leaned in to kiss him before stepping back. ‘Teach me how to bake something. Give me something I can beat up.’
Noah laughed, then gestured to the mixing bowl, which was full of dough for his second batch of sufganiyot. ‘Flour and knead that. Do you know how to knead dough?’
‘I’ve done it before,’ Adriano said. He washed up, dried his hands, then gathered the dough onto the floured table and began to work it.
Noah watched him for a moment, briefly worried that Adriano’s mood was going to ruin the dough. But Noah had probably thrown out a mortgage payment’s worth of ingredients in his lifetime, taking his aggression out on what would have been sweets and breads, so he couldn’t judge.
Only Adriano didn’t ruin it. He was careful and methodical with precise hands that were strong but delicate. Noah felt his cock harden, and his mouth watered, and he wondered if the door had locked when Adriano closed it.
Breathing out, he turned toward his own task again and began to roll everything out into a neat square. The sharp-edged sufganiyot stamp—just a biscuit cutter—slipped through the dough to make perfect rounds, and he carefully placed each circle onto the tray for the second prove. By the time he was done, Adriano was leaning against the counter, staring with dark eyes.
