Page 58 of Comforting the Grump

I felt that dangerous softness in my chest again. I needed to shut this down and fast. “Look, let someone take care of you for once, all right? It won’t kill you.”

Ennio’s eyes softened, and I saw a flash of something in them that made my heart skip a beat. “Thanks, Marnin. I appreciate it.”

Before I could respond, the doorbell rang. Saved by the bell, literally. I jumped up, perhaps a bit too eagerly, and retrieved our food.

When I returned, arms laden with fragrant Thai dishes, Ennio was sipping his wine. He looked marginally more alive, which was an improvement.

“Dig in.” I set the containers on the table. “I got you Pad Thai.”

His eyes lit up. “Oh, I love Pad Thai.”

“I know.”

We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the only sounds the click of our chopsticks and Ennio’s occasional appreciative hum. I found myself watching him more than I should, noticing the way his long eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks, the curve of his neck as he bent over his food.

“God, that was amazing,” he said, finally pushing his plate back. “I almost feel human again.”

I stood, gathering our empty plates. “How about we move this to the couch? I’ll make us some Irish coffee.”

“Ooh, fancy! I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“It’s literally making coffee, adding a solid splash of whiskey and some sugar, and topping it with cream. Nothing fancy about it.”

“I still appreciate the effort.”

“What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”

“Oh, I know you are,” Ennio teased, his voice laced with innuendo.

I busied myself with the coffee, trying to ignore the way my body reacted to his flirtatious tone. When I returned to the living room, two steaming mugs in hand, Ennio was sprawled across the couch, his feet propped up on the armrest.

“Comfy?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, my feet are killing me.”

I handed him his coffee and put mine on the table, then sat down, lifting his feet onto my lap. “Here, let me.”

My hands moved of their own accord, thumbs digging into the arch of his foot. Ennio let out a moan. “Oh my god…”

He closed his eyes and leaned back as I used both hands to massage his right foot until the tension dissolved. The sinful sounds he made shot straight to my balls, making them tingle.

“This is perfect. Your hands are magic,” Ennio said with a happy sigh.

I swallowed hard, trying to focus on the task at hand and not the way Ennio’s face was flushed with pleasure. “So, uh, any plans for tomorrow night?”

Ennio’s eyes fluttered open. “Not really. Why?”

I cleared my throat. “Well, I thought you might wanna hit up a club again. You know, since you mentioned wanting to meetsomeone. I could come with you if you wanted. To keep you safe and all after that nasty experience last time.”

“You’re still willing to come with me?”

I shrugged, aiming for a nonchalance I wasn’t feeling at all. In fact, the thought of having to watch Ennio flirt and dance or even kiss and make out with another guy was…disturbing. “Sure, if you wanted me to.”

Ennio studied me, his face surprisingly neutral. Usually, I was able to read his emotions with ease, but this time, he’d closed himself off.

“Oh, Marnin, that’s so sweet of you to offer,” he finally said, still not allowing me to see what he was feeling. “But I’m absolutely exhausted after this week. The thought of having to get all dressed up and staying out late… I don’t think I have it in me.”

I felt a rush of relief, followed immediately by guilt. What kind of friend was I, feeling glad that Ennio didn’t want to go out and potentially meet someone?

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