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They kissed again, longer this time, Renzo’s dick thickening hard and on the edge of painful. He dropped his hips, ready to thrust against Emil’s abs, when he heard a soft gasp, then the sound of feet running away.
It was like a bucket of cold water being dropped over their heads. They flew apart, and Emil covered his face with both hands as Renzo leapt up to stand.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
It wasn’t that Matty didn’t understand the concept of sex. He’d had a couple of girlfriends at camp in the past, and from the way he blushed, Renzo was damn sure they’d gotten physical. But he also knew that Matty would be hurt Renzo hadn’t said anything first. Especially after insisting all weekend that they weren’t more than friends.
“I should go talk to him.”
Emil swallowed heavily. “Maybe I should…”
Go, Renzo assumed. He wanted to tell him no. To beg him to stay, but he had no idea how upset Matty was going to be, so he just hung his head. “Yeah. That’s probably a good idea for now. I’ll call you later?”
Emil nodded, and while he was putting on a brave face, Renzo didn’t miss the way his hands were shaking as he stood up, arms limp at his sides. Renzo wanted to pull him close, to make promises that it was going to be fine, but he couldn’t. Everything felt surrounded by chaos, and this was only proof that Renzo could never have anything easy or simple.
He could fall in love. That wasn’t the problem. It was everything else in his life that made being with him not worth the work. And when Emil didn’t spare him a glance backward, and when he left his gifts on the coffee table when he gathered his things to go, Renzo couldn’t blame him.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
“…and?”
Renzo rubbed a hand down his face and sighed, staring up at the ceiling instead of at his friend’s face. “And then he left. We’ve texted once, but that’s it.”
Oliver drummed his fingers on the table, and Renzo tried not to flinch. That sound always drove him up the wall, but the fact that Oliver was in the middle of vicious jet lag but still agreed to meet him for coffee was enough for Renzo to forgive him almost anything.
It also helped a little knowing that Victor was with Emil right then, probably talking about the same thing. He just didn’t know what narrative Emil was using. Was he talking about how much he liked Renzo, but their situation was too complicated? Had Emil just used him for a good time over the lonely holiday, and now that things were getting real, he was trying to find a way to bail and…
“I can see you spiraling,” Oliver said.
Renzo blinked back to reality and grabbed his latte, taking a sip before grimacing at how quickly it had gone tepid. “I feel bad talking to you about this, considering your history with him.”
Oliver scoffed. “It’s not my history. And Victor forgave him, like, a million years ago. I think he gets it better than we can.”
Renzo frowned. “Gets it?”
“Yeah, like…” Oliver shrugged, his brow furrowed in thought. “I don’t…” Then Oliver started to look a little nervous, and Renzo’s heart sped up a bit.
“Hey. What’s wrong?”
Oliver laughed and dragged a hand down his face. “You know how sometimes I joke about how I used to be a hooker in my past life?”
Renzo almost laughed because it was now obvious that Oliver thought Renzo hadn’t believed he was telling the truth. “Oliver,” he said carefully and as kindly as he could, “I took you seriously when you told me that.”
Oliver looked a little stunned. “Oh. Um…”
“And don’t worry. I haven’t told anyone. The assholes in both our departments have such big pearls they like to clutch over crap like that. But it’s fine.” Renzo leaned over briefly and brushed his hand over Oliver’s. “We’re fine. You’re fine. It’s all…you know…”
“Oh my God, okay,” Oliver said, laughing. “I get it. It’s all fine.” He stopped and cleared his throat. “So, I guess my point is that real love and real friendships are precious to me, but I’m also a lot more selective than Victor sometimes. He’s seen how bad people can be, but I’ve seen it intimately. If Emil had been my friend and hidden something like my fiancée having an affair, I would have thrown our friendship off a fucking iceberg.”
Renzo’s lips twitched into something like a smile, but he felt his cheeks burn. He knew all about Emil and Victor’s past friendship and what Emil had kept from him. Emil had never been shy about the fact that he’d been a bad person, but the person he used to be was not the one Renzo had fallen for.
Still, a curl of humiliation crept up his spine when he realized Oliver was probably judging him for what he’d done and how he felt.
“It’s, um,” he said, then cleared his throat. “I feel like he really has learned to be a better person, and…”
“Fuck! No,” Oliver said. He moved like he was going to lunge forward and grab Renzo by the front of his shirt, then froze because the table wobbled, and their coffees threatened to spill. He sank back into his chair. “Stop being a weird martyr or whatever. I’m saying that because of my past, I really suck at second chances, but you and Victor are the kind of people Emil needs in his life. And I was going to say that Emil and Victor are a lot alike.”
“Okay,” Renzo said very slowly, his blush fading. “How so?”
