Page 23 of Cherry on Top

First because he’d been a kid, and love was gross. Then because he’d been unlucky in love himself, pining after a man who not only didn’t want him, but who he wasn’t really suited to, at all.

Then he’d left town and mercifully had been saved any further retellings.

“It’s a stupid question, I know. I know she tells it every year at the Festival,” Will continued, a sheepish expression on his face. “I just thought, maybe if she told it, and you really listened to it, you’d . . .I don’t know . . .hear what I hear, every time. But that’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Enzo said firmly, even though maybe he might’ve believed that, before. He didn’t know Will, but he’d already learned he didn’t like to see that shadow of disappointment in his light blue eyes. They should always be happy.

Enzo knew that was kind of an impossibility. It wasn’t even his responsibility to make Will happy. But he wanted to make sure, anyway.

“So you’ll consider it?” Will said, and there it was, the joy lighting him up like he’d just been plugged in, and Enzo was only a man. That look was difficult to ignore.

Even harder to reject.

He nodded. “I’ll consider it.”

“You have to listen to Joy tell it,” Will insisted. “I’ll text her, ask her to come around to Cherry’s tonight. Do you have plans?”

“It’s Indigo Bay.” Enzo rolled his eyes. “You live here. You know I don’t have any plans.”

“Well, come to Cherry’s tonight. Listen to Joy.”

“You gonna bribe me with some more of your delicious ice cream?”

Will looked disappointed, then, which was confusing. Enzo had said it was delicious.

“I didn’t realize you’d tried it already. Oh—of course. Luca took those samples back to his house. You must’ve been over.”

“Whatever the new thing is you were trying, keep doing it,” Enzo said.

“Yeah?” There was that glow again.

“Oh, yeah. And if you bribe me with more, I’ll be there tonight, no matter who’s gonna talk to me.”

“Okay.” Will smiled and stood. “I’ll see you then, tonight? About seven thirty?”

“Don’t you close at eight?”

“Yeah, but that way maybe the crowd will have cleared out some.” Will looked sheepish. “Then maybe I can crash and listen in, too.”

“You really do love the story,” Enzo said. Which, of course he did. He’d just said so, hadn’t he? Enzo felt like he must be losing his touch.

But Will was still smiling. “Yep.”

After Will left, Enzo opened his sketchbook. He’d intended to work on the next mural he was scheduled for—something in the upper half of Maine, in an old fishing village that was trying to rebrand as a tourist destination.

But instead of whales and fish and sailing ships, he found himself drawing something else, the pencil flying over the page. Enzo told himself it meant nothing, that it was just something he needed to work out, but instead of stopping at the bare lines, he began to fill in the shading, wanting to make it as perfect as he could.

“Well, I guess you don’t need to tell me after all that you think Will’s hot.”

Enzo looked up in surprise, glad it was only Rocco who’d caught him sketching Will’s face, and not Will himself.

That would be difficult to explain.

Rocco set a cappuccino down next to Enzo’s sketchpad and slumped down in the opposite chair. “Thought you might want some more coffee,” he said, taking a long drink of his own iced mocha.

“You better be careful. You know Oliver keeps me and Luca on a three-cappuccino limit.”

“For a good reason,” Rocco said with a grin. “We’re already intense enough.”

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