Page 63 of Cherry on Top

But his stuttering surprise at Luca’s painfully pinpoint accuracy had probably ruined his denial.

Luca glanced over at him as he grabbed a metal ice cream scoop and began portioning out the meatballs onto a tray. “So you like him and all this is for real? You know he’s—”

“I know he’s staying, yeah. He has a business here. It would be hard not to know that,” Enzo interrupted. “You did it with Oliver. Started something even though you didn’t think it was going to be forever.”

“I was lying to myself,” Luca said steadily. “I don’t think you’re lying to yourself. You don’t love it here.”

It was true. He didn’t. He never had.

He could admit that this visit was leaps and bounds better than every other one he’d had. It helped, of course, to have a purpose and a job to do—and one he was very good at, that he loved. But he had a feeling it was more than that, too.

It was Will.

But it wasn’t just him. It was that Enzo had grown up, finally, and he could see this place more accurately, now that he’d been in so many other places.

His travels had given him perspective.

Maybe not that much perspective, but he could admit that he didn’t think he’d ever returned to Indigo Bay, spent at least a week, or even a few days, and hadn’t already wanted to leave again.

But he hadn’t felt that way this time around. Not once.

“No, I don’t want to stay, but . . .” Enzo hesitated. “I don’t hate it the way I used to.”

Luca rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me the power of love has changed your mind.”

“Why not? Didn’t it change yours?”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to stay. I didn’t think I could stay,” Luca said. “Will’s a good guy. A solid guy. A friend. And I wouldn’t be proud to call him that unless I warned you not to fuck with him.”

“Trust me, I’m not.”

But aren’t you? Aren’t you fucking with yourself?

“It kind of feels like you’re doing something,” Luca said. “Rocco said you guys were calling each other ridiculous nicknames. Stud Muffin.” He frowned. “I know you, Enzo, and this isn’t you.”

“Maybe it’s me, now,” Enzo claimed. But he knew how weak his argument was.

Luca shook his head. “No, it’s not. If this is some kind of elaborate scheme to get Giana off your back, I applaud it, but she’s going to be pissed when the truth comes out.”

“Maybe.”

“Disappointed and pissed.”

Enzo swallowed hard. “Okay, that’s probably accurate.” But he couldn’t quit the charade now. Not when he enjoyed it so much. Not when the thought of stopping made him desolate in a way he didn’t want to examine too closely.

“You know it is,” Luca said pointedly.

“Okay, fine. The truth? Maybe I went out with him because I was curious, and to get Mom off my back. I’ll admit that. But now . . .” Enzo took a deep breath. “I really like him. I do. There’s nothing fake about that.”

“And you want to keep this up?”

If Will didn’t think they were faking it for the town’s gossip mill, Enzo wasn’t sure he’d want to keep hanging out. If he’d let Enzo continue to call him his Stud Muffin. And letting him touch him.

“We’re in this, now,” Enzo said.

“You know.” Luca turned to him and put a hand on his shoulder, gaze sympathetic. Or maybe even empathetic. Because yes, while his situation with Oliver had been slightly different, there were similarities. “You can like him. You’re allowed. But you know if you do, if you really let yourself go there, leaving is going to be wretched. For both of you.”

Enzo swallowed hard. “Yeah. Probably.”

---