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So he stayed.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
The only wayRenzo survived Emil being in his space was the fact that he allowed Renzo to take a moment without him having to fear that he’d run. He just kissed him and told him to take his time, and he didn’t look upset that Renzo was slipping away into the bathroom to compose himself.
But the earth felt like it was tipping too far on its axis. It felt like the rotation had both sped up and slowed down and that gravity was shifting. Renzo told himself that it was just going to be some fun.
Yes, he had a crush, but those were hardly new.
He’d been wild about Oliver for the short time he’d known the guy before learning about Victor, and he’d even spent six months pining after the new barista at the coffee shop near Matty’s work until the guy up and quit one day without notice. But Emil was different, and Renzo was starting to realize that it was more than just the fact that he wasn’t like anyone Renzo had ever met before.
He wasn’t foolish enough to think that it was fated or tragic enough to think they were star-crossed. But hewaslogical enough to admit that the only real problem was him getting in his own way. Emil could be something to him, but Renzo didn’t know how to knock down that last bit of wall that he was using to protect himself.
Taking several deep breaths, almost to the point he felt like he was going to hyperventilate, he turned on the faucet and splashed water on his face. When he looked up, he grimaced. His hair was a mess from the wind, his lips chapped from the cold, and he had chocolate on the corner of his mouth like he was some kind of toddler playing house with the neighbor.
He scrubbed it away and then stared at himself again, wondering what the hell a man like Emil saw in him.
He’d called Renzo beautiful, which was something Renzo had never heard from his ex. Hell, even when John had bothered to give him compliments, they always came with some sort of backhand.
‘You’re so cute, that’s why I put up with you.’
‘You take such good care of me, that’s why I don’t mind that you’re awful in bed.’
That one had burrowed under his skin and made a home there because John had said it so fucking often Renzo had started to believe him. And it wasn’t like he had a laundry list of past lovers he could fall back on for an ego boost.
Yet, Emil seemed not just into him but hungry for him, and Renzo didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He didn’t want to fuck up. He didn’t want their first night to have been a fluke.
He really wasn’t sure he’d be able to survive it still whole if Emil walked away from today with regret.
“Suck it up,” he murmured to himself, then pawed around in his drawer for the condoms and lube. If he really did turn out to be nothing more than aggressively mediocre in bed, at least he’d have a tender ass to remember Emil by.
The thought almost made him want to cry, and he quickly squared his shoulders and walked out. There would be no better distraction than Emil’s naked body. He’d deal with whatever else came after it was all over.
“So, is it a bad time to tell you that your walls are super thin and you’re kind of loud when you talk to yourself?” Emil asked the moment he saw Renzo.
His mouth dropped open to reply, but he was instantly silenced, caught up in the pale, gorgeous expanse of Emil’s naked chest. He was leaning against the bed with one knee propped up on the mattress, and he had his slacks open in a wide V, his hand down the front of his boxers.
Renzo swallowed heavily, then forced himself to look up. “Sorry. What?”
Emil laughed a gorgeous, rumbling sound in his chest. “Come here, beautiful.”
Renzo moved like he was helpless to do anything except obey Emil’s command, and he didn’t stop until he was in front of his lover, feeling warm hands pushing his T-shirt up, spreading wide, long fingers over his chest.
“Can I take this off you?” Emil asked.
Renzo nodded silently, and he only shifted enough to be helpful as Emil peeled the fabric away from him and tossed it against the dresser. It hit the floor with a soft, dull thud, and Renzo tracked it with his gaze before looking back at Emil.
“Change your mind?” Emil asked.
Renzo shook his head, then forced his tongue to unstick from the roof of his mouth. “Sorry. I think I’m having some attack of self-worth.”
Emil’s brows dipped in a frown, and he used the tips of his fingers to trace lines over Renzo’s collarbones, then around his nipples, and over his abs. “Do you want to talk about it, or do you want me to distract you?”
“Distract me.” It was the easy answer, and probably the wrong one, but Renzo didn’t want to waste any more time. He only had a few hours before he had to hit pause on this and pick up Matty, and he couldn’t let himself be a mess.
It was too near Christmas, and Renzo had promised himself years ago he’d always let this time be magical. There was no room for personal crises or pain. Whatever else he was feeling, it could wait.
He turned his face up just in time for Emil to cradle it between both hands and take a kiss. This one was softer than before, painfully tender and deep. Their tongues moved in a careful dance as Emil eased Renzo back onto the bed, and then his clever, wonderful hands moved to his waistband, popping the button and dragging the zipper down in a slow slide.
