14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
"You're not too worried about the walk of shame?" Will asked as Enzo returned from the bathroom a few minutes later and stretched out next to him.
"I did it this morning, didn't I?" Enzo shot him a smoldering look from under thick dark lashes. "Besides, walk of shame implies shame , and I don't have an ounce of shame. I'd do that again."
"Right now? Already?" Will squawked. And okay, so he felt a pulse of arousal at Enzo's words, surprising considering how little time had passed since he'd come his brains out.
Enzo laughed. "Oh, baby, to be twenty again."
"How old are you?" Will wondered.
Enzo turned to him, mischief twinkling in his eyes. "How old do you think I am?"
"I . . .uh . . ." Will hesitated awkwardly.
Reaching out, Enzo stroked his arm. "It's alright," he said, letting him off the hook. "I'm twenty-seven."
"Twenty-nine."
"Oh, I do like an older man," Enzo said. "But seriously, you're twenty-nine, and your parents still think you're at their beck and call?"
Will sighed. Flopped onto his back. "I know. Why do you think I came here? It wasn't just working for them or for their business. It was kinda what you had with your mom. They think they get to call the shots in my life, and they're annoyed when they can't. It's unfair."
"Well, I wish I could give you advice, but I only have two tactics: avoidance and apparently faking orgasms loudly in front of the town."
Will knew that Enzo had been trying to make him smile, and it had worked. "So you stay away from Indigo Bay and when you do come here . . ."
"I convince a very good-looking man to fake orgasms with me in an attempt to distract Giana enough that she'll forget all the ways I've disappointed her?" Enzo's voice was wry.
"Hey, the faking orgasms idea was mine," Will said, nudging.
"Not your most brilliant work." Enzo slipped closer and then he was only a breath away. Will felt the buzz building under his skin again. The wanting overwhelming everything else. "'Cause we could've been doing this for real ."
Enzo kissed him sweetly. But it didn't matter how soft it was, it still fired him up. He told himself it was just that he was finally getting a taste of him, but deep down, he knew it was more than that.
It started sweet, but it didn't stay sweet. Enzo made a little groaning noise in the back of his throat, and it flamed the rest of Will's desire to life, and he tugged Enzo over, until he was draped across him.
"Maybe we are twenty again," Enzo mused, panting a little as he pulled his mouth from Will's, leaning against him, forehead to forehead.
"I feel twenty again." It was probably too much to say, but Will added, " You make me feel twenty again."
"I didn't feel like this even when I was twenty. Back then I thought I was in love with Oliver. And it sure wasn't like this."
Will felt a pulse of jealousy, but how could it last when Enzo was the one here with him now, the one who'd run to Cherry's, just so he could kiss him for real?
And Enzo had said it himself. It hadn't been like this.
As for Will, he didn't think he'd ever felt like this, not in all his twenty-nine years.
They were in new, uncharted territory. Both of them.
But it was easier to pull Enzo even closer and kiss him harder, lose himself and all his nagging worries about how was this going to work , to the passion that flared between them.
Less than five minutes later, Enzo was naked and on top of him, one beautiful hand wrapped around their hard cocks, arching as Will dug his fingertips into his ass, encouraging him.
"Fuck," Enzo groaned as he leaned in, sucking Will's bottom lip into his mouth, and Will was lost to little burst of pleasure-pain, to intoxicating slide of his cock through Enzo's fist, bumping up against his toned stomach.
Entranced by the vision of his precome smeared across Enzo's skin. Like he could mark him and keep him.
Enzo squeezed harder, flicking his wrist, and pleasure spiked.
"Oh yeah, that's good," Will panted. "Give me more, baby."
Will thought he might protest, draw it out longer, make it even hotter, even as Will's skin slicked with sweat. But he didn't, just as lost to it as Will was. Especially when Will tucked a finger between his ass cheeks, sliding it and pressing right into his hole, still a bit loose from earlier.
Enzo moaned and exploded, stripes of come painting Will's chest.
"Next time," he said, still panting as he came down from his orgasm, "I'm riding you."
And that was all it took for Will to tip over the edge, his own orgasm painting up Enzo's chest.
Enzo didn't seem particularly concerned about the mess though, because he collapsed onto Will, breathing heavily. "I think," he slurred, "that we're gonna wish we were twenty again."
Will shook his head. He didn't want to be any other age than the one he was right now. "I'm happy right here. Never been happier."
"Me neither," Enzo murmured, fingers digging into Will's shoulder. Like he'd fight to hang on to him. To never let him go.
Maybe that was the answer to the question Will didn't know how to ask.
They'd just have to hold on to each other.
Enzo knew he should be exhausted after last night's sex marathon, but instead he was the opposite. He was not only full of energy but wired, like he'd been plugged into the nearest electrical socket. Lit up from within with a hundred ideas, a thousand . He was painting as fast as he felt comfortable with, sloppier than he'd normally go, and his teachers back in San Francisco would have cautioned him, but Enzo thought they'd understand. Sometimes you were gripped by inspiration and you had to indulge it, not push it away.
He'd gone to work the same way he always did, but the moment he'd turned the corner, lugging the day's supplies, and seen his work in progress, it had started, and it hadn't let up in hours.
He set his brush down and stretched his hand, trying to keep it from cramping. Picked up the water bottle he'd brought up the scaffolding with him and sucked half it down, realizing as the water hit his tongue that it was lukewarm and no longer cold
Turning, Enzo glanced at the sun and from its position, he knew he'd been at this hours, with no break. He really should take one. At that thought, his stomach grumbled, and so, reluctantly, he headed down the ladder next to the scaffolding he'd set up.
On the ground he found more water and a little sticky note with a heart drawn on it and a "W."
His heartbeat accelerated, and for a minute, he seriously considered going into Cherry's and finding Will.
But no. You're gonna take a real break. Get cool somewhere. Get something to eat. Drink a lot of water.
If he sought out Will, he'd probably hit a few of those, but not all of them.
Besides, he'd made himself a promise that he wouldn't bother Will when he was working, just like Will had promised that he wouldn't bother Enzo when he was working.
Normally Enzo would've liked the bothering. Not today, probably, but any other day.
He craned his neck back and took in his work from the morning—well, it was clearly past morning, but his work of the last few hours. There was the cliff, perhaps bigger and with a hair more dramatic flair than real life, and Eliza's figure on top of it, her hair swirling around her.
But it was her face that caught him and held him. Her expression.
The naked yearning and the undeniable love written across it. It was more than just hope, because Eliza hadn't just hoped that Nathaniel would return to her. She'd believed.
He'd intended to capture as much as he could in her look as she stared out across the water.
Taking another swallow of warm water, Enzo decided he'd accomplished what he'd set out to do. But he couldn't deny, either, that this growing thing with Will and all his growing feelings had given him new perspective. He'd poured those into every brushstroke, wanting it to be good not only for him and for the town, but for Will. This was Will's building, his own legacy that he was creating, one delicious sundae and milkshake at a time, and Enzo wanted to do it justice.
Give him something concrete, when Enzo wasn't here. A reminder that he was more than just his parents' lackey.
Evidence that he was Will , and someone out there cared about him very much. The kind of way Eliza had cared about Nathaniel.
Except she was in love with him.
Enzo's fingers slipped on the bottle's condensation and he nearly dropped it.
He told himself it was just a figure of speech. It was just a way he'd used to connect to the story he was telling.
But the thought followed him anyway, down the street, to the deli.
Rocco was leaning against the front counter, a small laptop in front of him. He glanced up when the bell on the front door rang and Enzo walked in.
Above him was the menu board Enzo had painted when he was only nineteen. An art collector had come in last year and offered Giana and Luca twenty thousand dollars for it, and his mom had just laughed at him.
He'd felt a puff of undeniable pride at that. Both at the offer, and the rejection.
"Hey," Rocco said as he approached. "You look . . ." His gaze swept up and down Enzo's form. "You been working all day?"
Enzo glanced down at himself. Not just his tank, but his skin was generously flecked with paint and now that he was in the air-conditioning, he could feel just how damp with sweat he was. Well, there was something to be said for the fact this was his family's deli. They weren't exactly going to refuse him service. Maybe it was good he'd avoided Cherry's. Of course, it wasn't like Will had seemed particularly averse to the way he got when he was working.
"Yeah," he said. "And I'm starving."
"Whatcha want?" Rocco asked.
Enzo ordered. A big Italian chopped salad and a meatball sandwich.
"I've got one of Luca's Gatorades in the walk-in in the back," Rocco said. "You want me to steal it for you?"
"You think he'd mind?"
Rocco shot him a frank look. "No. Not if he saw you like this."
"Like what?" Enzo frowned.
But instead of answering, Rocco just stepped through the doorway to the back and a few moments later, he returned, carrying a neon green bottle of Gatorade. He handed it over and gave Enzo another one of those frank looks, along with a wave that indicated he should go to the dining room.
"Go wash up and sit down. I'll bring it out to you."
Enzo sighed. "Fine."
And okay, yes, now that he'd stopped painting and wasn't under the burning hot sun, the exhaustion was hitting him—along with a bit of shakiness that he had a feeling was low blood sugar.
He'd only grabbed a coffee and a danish on his way out of the Inn this morning and that really wasn't enough for the kind of work he'd put in today.
Of course when he'd headed to the mural this morning, he hadn't known that he'd do this much work. He'd had a loose plan to work on Eliza, but he hadn't really anticipated nearly finishing with her. There'd be some final details, but that would be at the end, when he'd go over the entire mural.
His face was more drawn than he'd realized, a white cast under his tan, and he knew he'd need to thank Rocco when he brought out his food out.
After washing up, he sat in the corner, his favorite table since forever, and a few minutes later, Rocco brought the food over, setting it front of him, along with another bottle of water.
"There's more where that came from, too," Rocco said. "Though you're already looking better. You were white as a sheet before, all clammy looking."
"Oh. Well. I guess I overdid it, a little," Enzo admitted. "Didn't realize it, until I looked in the mirror."
"Good. At the risk of sounding just like Giana, you gotta take better care of yourself when you're out there in the heat, painting."
"I will," Enzo promised, digging into the chopped salad. It was cool against his tongue, spicy and bursting with herbaceous flavor.
"I got an email today," Rocco said casually as Enzo continued to shovel salad into his face.
"Yeah?" he asked between bites.
"You know I'd been putting out feelers to buy a place. In a small town. Not this small town." Rocco shot him one of the patented Moretti smiles. "I love our cousin but I couldn't live with him looking over my shoulder the rest of my life."
Enzo considered telling Rocco that it wouldn't be so bad, but then he reconsidered. For Rocco it probably would be tougher, because he wanted to run a coffee shop. First, it was way too similar to Oliver's concept, and second, because it was food related, Luca would be unable to help himself.
He'd just want to help, and then he'd help Rocco right along into insanity.
"I get that," Enzo said.
"Well, yeah, there's a reason you don't live here, though . . ." Rocco gave him a sly look. "Maybe you'll be spending more time here in the future. Because of a certain ice cream guy . . ."
"Yeah," Enzo said. Because Rocco's insinuation wasn't untrue now. Not now, anyway.
"Anyway, I've been talking to some people. Hoping to find something close-ish. That's like here, but not here, you know? And I got an email today. Some ladies want to sell their coffee shop."
"Where's it at?" Enzo asked.
"Town in Illinois, outside Chicago. Get this," Rocco said, leaning forward, excitement gleaming in his dark eyes that felt so much like a mirror of Enzo's own, "it's a Christmas themed town. It's even named Christmas Falls. They do a big ass festival celebration there every year."
"Do you even like the holidays?" Enzo asked, a little skeptical. That seemed like a lot of Christmas.
"Well, yeah. Who doesn't?" Rocco waved his hand, dismissing Enzo's concern. "Anyway, I figure I'm familiar with that whole festival vibe, since I've been here for the Sweethearts Festival the last two years."
"And they want to sell it to you?"
"Yep. They told me to make an offer." Rocco looked so excited, and Enzo was genuinely thrilled for him. The guy worked his ass off, at what felt like a hundred part-time jobs, to save money and to get as much experience as possible. He knew Oliver spent hours with him every week, teaching him every baking secret he knew.
"That's so great, man. I'm happy for you." Enzo finished his salad and moved onto the meatball sub, using the knife Rocco had provided to cut it in half, picking up one side. A glob of marinara dropped on his hand and he licked it up.
"They say they want someone with an affinity for the business. They said they heard of the Morettis all the way out there. Isn't that cool?"
"So cool." It wasn't that Enzo wasn't thrilled for his cousin. It was the reminder that he wasn't part of that Moretti tradition. He was different. Just different enough that he'd never felt like he belonged.
Everyone was nice enough about it, but that didn't mean it didn't still suck.
"Luca said he'd look at the offer. Let me know his thoughts, but I'm gonna be honest. I want this." Rocco leaned over, dark eyes gleaming. "They got a little kitchen in the back—not as big as Oliver's of course, because they're more of a coffee shop than a bakery, and not nearly the size of Will's—but I'll be able to do a bit of baking. Maybe expand, in a few seasons. Make all the pastries in-house. Maybe add paninis and hot sandwiches. Soup. Salads."
"It sounds like the perfect spot for you. And the town's chill, yeah?"
Enzo would be remiss if he didn't ask. Some small towns, especially in the South and the Midwest, weren't. And he knew Rocco had been out of the closet, out-and-proud, since early high school.
He wouldn't want to go back in, just to own a business.
"Nah," Rocco said. "I did some research. It's friendly. Won't be a problem. Besides, the couple I'm buying it from? Two lesbian ladies."
"There you go." Enzo finished the first half of his sandwich, but before he picked up the other half, he swallowed down half the water. "It sounds like a perfect fit."
"Yeah." Rocco leaned back. "Kinda like you and Will."
Enzo rolled his eyes—even though it wasn't like he hadn't had that thought cross his mind more than once. "I'm only surprised it took you so long to drag the subject back around to him."
Rocco grinned. "That's 'cause I was so excited about the coffee shop I had to lead with that first."
"Of course."
"It's going good, then?" Rocco paused. "The other day, at the coffee shop, when he kissed you, you looked floored , then you ran out of there and forgot your muffin. And you know Oliver's muffins aren't very forgettable."
"They're . . .uh not. I just remembered something I had to do then," Enzo mumbled. He didn't think he'd even spat out an excuse before he'd gone running after Will.
"Your mom was a little worried you were upset with him."
Enzo knew a leading question when he heard it. He hummed under his breath as he finished the second half of his sandwich.
"I told her she was being paranoid," Rocco continued. "But I wondered."
"It's . . .it's fine. Everything's fine."
"So that wasn't your first kiss with him, then?"
Enzo didn't want to lie, but then he'd done it before, hadn't he? Out of necessity, not necessarily out of choice but . . .
"You were there, at our first date. What do you think?" It wasn't a lie. Of course it wasn't exactly the truth, either.
Rocco shot him a knowing look. "I think that was a farce. A total freaking farce. You weren't dating. But now . . . now I think you are."
"It's complicated." It wasn't, though. Not nearly as he'd convinced himself that it was, back then.
Of course that didn't mean it was simple, either. How could it be, when for the first time since coming back to Indigo Bay, he'd experienced that same ache that had always driven him away before?
He didn't want it to drive him away now. He wasn't going to let it. But that meant learning to live with it, too. If he'd been able to do that before, he'd have just done it.
But you're older. Wiser. You grew the fuck up. You can do this. If it means keeping Will.
"It would be," Rocco said calmly. "He lives here. You don't."
"I don't really live anywhere ." It was true. He had some stuff in a storage unit in San Francisco, but otherwise, he traveled around from city to city, painting murals and building his reputation.
"True." Rocco gave him a speculative look. "So you're gonna change how you do things, huh? For him?"
He was booked a year out. There were breaks, of course, and during those he'd explored new places, visit Chiara and Ilaria, or even head down to LA and stay with Gabe and Ren for a few days. Occasionally, he'd even let his mother guilt him into coming here.
But now . . .well, what was stopping him from using Indigo Bay as his home base?
Nothing.
Except your own freaking sanity.
But how sane would he be if he didn't see Will again? If he came back to town and saw him sad and alone? Or even worse, if he saw him happy with someone else?
That was so much worse.
"For him. And . . ." Enzo trailed off. Realizing he was about to say, for me, too . Realized that it was actually true.
Rocco smiled, so knowingly, and patted him on the arm as he stood. "Told you he was hot."
Enzo scoffed at Rocco's back as he walked away.
Yeah, Will was hot. So hot it was a freaking miracle he hadn't kissed him on that first date. But it was so much more than Will being hot. That was what told him that no matter how tough it was to figure out how they were going to do this, he was worth it.
After finishing his lunch, Enzo took his time getting back to work.
Really, he'd already accomplished more than he'd intended to today, and he could admit the only reason he was headed back was to clean up a bit and to pop into Cherry's and see Will.
He skirted the edges of the sidewalks, keeping to the shade. When he made it to Cherry's, he ran a hand through his hair, gave it up for a lost cause, and stepped inside.
Will was at the counter helping someone—a mother with two young kids—but he glanced up and their eyes met. He tipped his head, indicating that Enzo could take a seat.
He did, sprawling out in the corner on the bench in one of the booths.
A few minutes and two ice cream cones and a confection that was coffee and ice cream blended up together that made the mother perk right up, Will made his way over to where Enzo sat.
"Hey," he said, reaching out and resting a hand on Enzo's shoulder.
There was a smear of chocolate on his arm, mirroring the paint streaking Enzo's, and not for the first time he thought, in so many ways, we're so alike.
"Hey." Enzo thought he could just sit here, basking in Will's gaze, in his touch, forever. They didn't even need to talk. He didn't need to say, I worked my ass off today, but what kind of work it was— because Will understood.
Every morning when he unlocked the door to Cherry's was like when Enzo picked up a brush.
"Thanks for the water," Enzo added. Because he had been out to see him, and Enzo had clearly been in too deep to even notice. He hoped Will wouldn't be pissed. He wouldn't be the first one to resent that sometimes Enzo lost himself in his art.
The warm look in his blue eyes told the whole story. He not only wasn't mad, he understood .
"You looked completely absorbed so I left you alone. But it was so hot I didn't want you to give yourself heat stroke . . ." Will trailed off.
"I was in a zone, for sure," Enzo agreed. "I got so much more done of Eliza than I anticipated. Sometimes you just understand , and it's a struggle to get the paint on the surface as fast as the ideas come."
Will smiled. "Well, she turned out incredible. Her face . . .I didn't think there'd be so much detail, so much emotion , in her, but you captured it, and well . . ." He flushed. "You know just how good you are."
"Yeah, but you're always free to tell me, baby," Enzo joked, nudging him with his shoulder. "It is a hot one, today. I'm probably done, except for some clean-up. But I stopped by to ask if you want to cool down with me later."
Will raised an eyebrow. "Is that what we're doing?"
It wasn't how Enzo would've described it either. But he'd been talking about something else. Well, sort of something else. "Skinny dipping. In the ocean. After you're off." He grinned. "Get your mind out of the gutter."
Will leaned down. "I can't," he admitted quietly, with a fire in his gaze. "Not after last night."
"Then come with me," Enzo said. But it was more, wasn't it? He was pleading. Nearly begging.
When was the last time he'd ever needed a man so much?
Never. That was when.
But he could sense Will hesitating. "It'll be late . . .I want to, but yeah it'll be late. It won't be a dusk swim, but a full night swim."
Sure, Enzo knew why he was saying it. Was it safe? Not exactly.
But taking the physical risk felt like nothing when he thought about the way he was risking his heart.
"But I'll have my big strong man there to protect me," Enzo teased. "My very own Stud Muffin."
Will smiled, the brightness breaking over his face like he couldn't even restrain it anymore. "You're ridiculous," he said, squeezing his shoulder again. It sounded exactly like You're amazing. Or maybe, You're unbelievable.
Or maybe even, You're so sexy, I can't wait to have my way with you.
"In the best kind of ways," Enzo said, grinning right back.
Will ducked his head, so much fondness in his eyes Enzo thought he was going to have to switch his name for the heart eyes emoji in his phone.
"Okay," he said. "If you want to do this crazy thing, the least I can do is participate."
Enzo raised an eyebrow. "That all you're gonna do?"
He was already imagining Will's bare skin, slick with the ocean, glowing under the moonlight. Could taste the salt on his lips as they kissed.
"Guess you're gonna have to wait and see. I gotta go help Kate, but I'll meet you at the Inn?"
Enzo nodded, Will tossed him one last hot look, and then walked away.
"Phew," Enzo said to nobody in particular. He waited a minute—for his erection to be less obvious—and then slipped out, feeling Will's eyes on him the whole way to the door.