Page 32 of Cherry on Top

Nope, it was just hot. He was just hot.

After months of working on the relatively mild west coast, moving up and down from Seattle to Portland and then back to Seattle again, he wasn’t used to this heat or the South’s oven-like humidity. And that didn’t even count for the fact that he’d been schlepping and assembling the scaffolding that went up the side of Will’s building.

His supplier had been able to deliver quicker than he’d expected, dropping off what he’d ordered just past noon, but he hadn’t been able to spare anyone to assemble it.

Enzo, who’d watched and helped enough times, had waved him off, saying he’d take care of it himself.

What he hadn’t anticipated was the temperature climbing up even higher, leaving him damp and cranky.

He picked up an iron pipe and screwed it into the main assembly he was working on, creating a platform for him to work on. At least with a smaller wall, the scaffolding could be smaller.

Wiping his forehead with the hem of his shirt, he finally gave up and tugged it off, rubbing his face dry—at least for the next ten seconds.

“Hey.”

Enzo turned and there was Will standing there, an uncertain expression on his face and two bottles of water in his hands.

“Oh, hey,” Enzo said and took the water Will handed him gratefully. “This is much appreciated.”

Will craned his head back, staring up at the sky. “It’s a hot one today. Summer on the coast’s always warm, but it feels like it hits a new gear in early June.”

“Yeah. And I’m not used to it,” Enzo admitted, drowning half the water. He was in the middle of wiping his face yet again when he realized what he was doing.

That he was shirtless, in front of Will, who, even fully dressed, looked like he made being naked a freaking art form.

“Glad I brought you some water, then,” Will said. He glanced over at the wall. So far it didn’t look like much, Enzo could admit that.

“I did bring my own,” Enzo admitted. “Just didn’t expect to go through it so quickly.”

“Yeah, it’s hot today.” Will flushed when he said it, looking everywhere but at Enzo.

“You don’t look even the tiniest bit bothered,” Enzo complained. It was true; Will looked cool and gorgeous and perfect.

Enzo felt like a sweaty, desperate mess, still embarrassingly sucking in his stomach, even though after how much his mother had freaking intervened, there was very little chance Will was ever going to be interested.

Will shrugged. “I’ve lived in the South my whole life. It’s hot here, sure, but Florida’s worse.”

“And I’ve been in the Pacific Northwest for six months,” Enzo admitted.

“There is that.” The corner of Will’s mouth quirked up. “You want another bottle of water?”

“Uh, no, I should probably grab something to eat. This is taking me a bit longer to do than I thought it might. Guess it’s easier to watch someone else do it than do it yourself.” He was just trying to decide if he should ask if Will wanted anything when he walked down to deli, when he heard a sound that he’d probably be hearing in his nightmares.

“Enzo!” his mother called out. “Oh, and Will. Just who I was hoping to catch! What a coincidence!”

“Coincidence my ass,” Enzo muttered under his breath. “Quick,” he said, eyeing his mom as she walked around the corner, “you may want to run. Or else she’s gonna find a way to shove us together.”

Will gave half a shrug. Like he wouldn’t mind it. “It’s all good,” he said. Then turned to his mother, giving her the exact same smile he’d bestowed on Enzo. “Hey, Giana.”

Enzo tried not to be jealous. Mostly failed. Even as he reminded himself that he didn’t want Will to be charmed by him, especially.

It was bad enough Giana was here, looking between them like she’d just won the lottery. It was bad enough they’d been flirting last night in front of Joy.

If she got enough encouragement, Enzo had a feeling she wouldn’t be willing to drop the idea of him and Will together. She was a Moretti after all, and once they were convinced something might be true, they didn’t ever want to let go of it. It was one of their best traits, and also one of their worst.

“It’s like you were practically reading my mind. I’d hoped you’d be together and here you are,” she said, positively glowing—and not from the heat, either—as she gestured to the basket on her arm. “I made some extra food, when I was putting together a little picnic for Enzo here. You could always share it with him.” She shot him her most winning smile. Much tougher men had fallen victim to that particular smile.

Enzo, himself, for one.

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