Page 36 of Between the Lines

“They’ll fuck you up, as the poet said.”

“A poet said that?”

“Philip Larkin. You heard of him?”

Luca shook his head. “But he’s not wrong.”

“He’s not. Parents fuck up their kids, those kids fuck uptheirkids, and so on and so onad infinitum.”

“What’s the answer, then?”

“Forgiveness, maybe, even where it’s not deserved?” He glanced at Luca, but his gaze was far away, out to sea. “Larkin’s solution was escaping early and not having any kids of your own.”

That made Luca laugh, a real belly laugh, and he unfurled from where he’d been hunched over his legs. “Fuck, that’s bleak.”

“Well. HewasEnglish.”

Luca’s laugh faded, but he was still smiling. Too dark, now, to make out his expression, Theo could feel his warmth and wasn’t surprised when Luca reached out to touch his knee. “Sorry for being a dick yesterday,” he said. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you. I just—I hate thinking about this shit.”

Theo’s heart swelled with a flood of feeling, warm and tender and inexplicably hopeful given the circumstances. “I’m sorry, too,” he said. “I shouldn’t have pushed. It’s not my business.”And I’ll be gone in a few days and this—whatever this is—will be over.He smiled around the abrupt hollowing in his chest, the deflating of that brief, tenuous hope, and focused on Luca’s hand instead, on his thumb stroking over Theo’s knee. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Six of one, half a dozen of the other, maybe?” Luca looked up. “I want to make it up to you, though.”

Theo could think of several ways and lifted an eyebrow in invitation. “Oh yes?”

“Not like that,” Luca said, although he smiled and his hand ran up from Theo’s knee to his thigh. “Well, notjustlike that.”

“What then?”

Luca dropped his gaze, like he was nervous. “I, uh—I was thinking... Do you want to come to the wedding with me?”

“The wedding?” It took a moment to process. “You mean, Finn Callaghan’s wedding?”

“My invite says I can bring a plus one.” He peeked through his lashes in a way Theo might have described as shy if that hadn’t been an absurd description for a man like Luca Moretti. “You wanna be my date?”

Ridiculous, how hard his heart pounded, how he couldn’t prevent a telling grin from spreading across his face. “I’d love to,” he said, because there was no getting away from how much it felt like a real date—or how much he wished it were—even when he knew it couldn’t be. “I adore weddings.”

Luca smiled, reaching out to tousle Theo’s hair. “I know.”

“Butyoudon’t.”

“I can put up with it for—” He stopped, licked his lips and looked away. “For the chance to see you all dolled up. I bet you rock a tux.”

“Are you joking?” The idea brought him out in hives and he wiggled his fingers helplessly. “Cuff links? Shirt studs? Abowtie? Tuxedos are a bloody nightmare.”

He wasn’t sure how he expected Luca to react, but it wasn’t by capturing his hand and lifting it to his lips, pressing a kiss to his fingers so soft it made the hair on the back of Theo’s arms stand on end. His breath caught and into the airless silence Luca murmured, “So let me help you dress.”

Theo’s pulse roared. He wanted desperately for this to be real, for Luca’s heart to be beating in tandem with his own, for this to be the start of something and not the end. But he knew too well the dangers of wanting and made himself remember the rules that would keep him safe: no mushy feelings, no expectations. They had five more days.

Forcing levity into his straining voice, air into his empty lungs, he smiled. “Only if you help me undress afterward.”

Luca gave him a comically lascivious look. “You can bet the farm on that, buddy.”

Chapter Thirteen

In Luca’s experience, all marriages ended in hurt—and not only for the unhappy couple. Everyone within spitting distance got their share of pain. So the idea of spending an evening watching two deluded guys skip down the aisle together should have been about as appealing as watching lemmings throw themselves off a cliff.

And yet, for some reason, Luca found himself looking forward to Finn Callaghan’s wedding. Maybe it was the general buzz in town, rising like a wave the closer they came to the big day—even the Majestic was full for one night, guests spilling over from Hanworth Hall. Or maybe it was because there was something cool about everyone getting behind a same-sex wedding.

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