Page 87 of Resisting You

“We did,” Renato agreed. “But that doesn’t mean things can’t change. I want you. I want this. I don’t tell just anyone I’m in love with them. I’ve said that to only one other person in my entire life.”

Frey closed his eyes. “What would he think? Of me, I mean?”

“He would love you,” Renato said honestly. “He would have loved how hard you made me work for you and that you never let me get away with anything. That you want me to be a better man.” He touched the side of Frey’s jaw and waited until his eyes opened. “If he’d had the chance to choose someone for me, he would have picked you.”

“And you’re not just saying that?” Frey pressed.

Renato laughed. “I might be. He’s gone. He’s been gone many years, and we never did talk about what we wanted if one of us were to pass. I can only go based on the man he was. He would have liked you. One day, you’ll meet his brother, and he’ll like you too.”

“He won’t hate me for taking his place?”

Renato shook his head and kissed him again. “No. Because you aren’t taking his place. You’re filling a space that’s all yours. And I can’t promise I won’t be a complete bastard some of the time, but I promise I will work on being better.”

“For me?”

“For me,” Renato said. “I never wanted to be the kind of person you wrote about in your book.”

Frey groaned and tugged him close until he could burrow against him. “I’m going to burn that fucking thing tomorrow.”

Renato had a wild, irrational thought: a part of him wanted Frey to keep it so they’d never forget the kind of man he had been. But maybe he wanted to start fresh. He wasn’t sure he deserved it, but he felt like asking the universe for a chance anyway.

“I’ll bring the matches,” he finally said.

Frey laughed, then turned his face up. “Can we just hold each other tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Say it in Italian,” Frey whispered.

Renato buried his nose in the top of Frey’s hair as he tightened his arms around him. “Sì. Oui. Ja. That’s all the foreign words for yes that I know.”

“That’s three more than me,” Frey said with a grin. He rested his cheek against Renato’s chest, and their breathing evened out, matching inhale and exhale. Their fingers touched, then linked, and Renato felt something in his chest that had no name, but he never wanted to stop feeling it.

Maybe this was love—a new sort. A kind he never would have experienced in his life before. That didn’t make his past worse or his future better. It simply…was.

“I am going to ask you to marry me one day,” Renato murmured.

He could feel the curve of Frey’s grin against him. “Cool. And I’m going to say yes.”

Epilogue

Frey closed the door behind him, then grinned as he sauntered toward Renato’s desk. His hands were full, but he leaned forward and set everything down.

“Coffee?” Renato asked.

“Cappuccino,” he said, exaggerating his accent and using a gesture he saw Renato doing from time to time.

His lover rolled his eyes, then beckoned Frey close, and he couldn’t resist. He was pulled into Renato’s lap and kissed very thoroughly. “Is it from that little café I like?”

“The one with actual Italian espresso?” Frey asked. “Yes it is. And a cinnamon bun.”

Renato’s eyes shone. “Are you trying to make up for what you got me at the hospital?”

Frey shrugged and settled more firmly against Renato’s chest. “Maybe. The flowers were more romantic.”

“Mm. Well-done cappuccino is always more romantic to me.” He kissed along Frey’s neck for long, languid moments. “Is the door locked?”

“No.”

---