Page 46 of Cherry on Top

“Oh, that’s a good one. Really nice drinkable wine. One of Oliver’s favorites. You guys gonna share it?”

“Yep, two glasses. And some of those parmesan cheese straws, alright?” He glanced over at Will. “You good with that?”

“Sounds great. Those are the best.”

Rocco leaned in. “You do know they buy those from Oliver’s bakery, right?”

Enzo chuckled, and Will felt the sound resonating through Enzo’s body, echoing into his own. “I didn’t, but I guess I’m not surprised.”

Rocco nudged Will. “You’re the only one in town who isn’t secretly—or not so secretly—buying baked goods from Oliver.”

“That’s because Will’s amazing,” Enzo answered. He draped an arm around Will’s shoulders. It couldn’t have been that comfortable because Enzo was shorter and smaller, but he didn’t hesitate. “Such an incredible baker. Even more incredible than Oliver.”

Rocco looked skeptical, and Will couldn’t blame him, because he was not a better baker than Oliver. “Sure,” Rocco said. “I’ll go grab your wine.”

When Rocco left, Enzo dropped his arm, but didn’t let go of Will completely. Instead one of those beautiful artist’s hands wrapped right around his bicep and squeezed. “Now, what about these nicknames?” Enzo said persuasively.

“We can’t just call each other Enzo and Will?”

“Oh, we can. But not in public! We need to convince everyone we’re falling madly in love.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “And if you were falling madly in love with me you wouldn’t call me Will?”

“Oh, I would. But my mom doesn’t know that. The sappier I am, the more convinced she’ll be.”

“Okay then. What about baby?”

Enzo shot him an incredulous look. “Really? That’s the best you can come up with?”

“Pookie?” Will suggested, scraping the bottom of his brain. “Dumpling? Sweetums?”

Enzo laughed. “Cutie Patootie? Peanut? Boo-Boo?”

And now Will couldn’t help but join in. “Where did you even come up with these?”

“My endless imagination,” Enzo said, waggling his eyebrows.

Well, Will could at least equal him. “How about Pumpkin?” he suggested.

“Do I look orange to you?” Enzo asked.

Will looked him up and down, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen all of you, yet. Maybe there’s a big lumpy orange part.”

“Oh, Stud Muffin, I promise you, all of me looks this good.” The exaggerated leer Enzo gave him made it clear he wasn’t serious, but Will had a feeling that while he was kidding, what he said was actually the truth.

Enzo would look so good without a stitch on. Not just good. Fantastic. Amazing. Tasty enough you wouldn’t be able to resist taking a little bite.

“What about Honey Butt?” Will suggested.

Enzo shifted, and something flashed across his face—so quick Will almost missed it, but he was looking for it—that reminded Will of his own conflict. The outwardly pretend ridiculousness compared to his own interior longing.

“I do have a very good ass,” Enzo agreed.

It was why Will had suggested it. A ring of truth in the middle of all this ludicrous posturing.

“You do . . .” Will trailed off, realizing he was going to have to say so, in front of the whole of Indigo Bay, including Enzo’s mother. “What about Honey Bunny?”

“Oh, that’s cute,” Enzo said, smiling. Not the over-the-top exaggerated grin of earlier, but something real. “And I’m gonna call you Stud Muffin. If the shoe fits . . .”

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