Page 60 of State of Mind

“I don’t miss home,” he said instead.

Raphael turned his head and squeezed Luca’s hand a little tighter. “I didn’t think you did.”

“I thought I would. I feel like I’m supposed to. It’s nothing like this.” Luca closed his eyes and felt a sigh lodged in his chest, burning behind his ribs.

“You came here looking for something different. Are you glad you found it?”

“I don’t know.” It was the most honest answer he could give in that moment, but for the first time in a long time, he didn’t hate the unknown. It was strangely comforting, the more he thought about it, but it made sense. There were no expectations here, other than to exist, other than to be kind and be good—and good here didn’t mean philanthropic events bleeding him and his bank account dry.

Savannah was simpler, quieter, and maybe that’s what he’d been looking for his entire life.

* * *

Luca dropped Raphael off, seeing him inside and promising to visit the salon in the morning.

He still didn’t have a text from Wilder, so he jumped half a foot when he ascended the stairs and found him sitting on the floor with his eyes closed, head lolled to the side.

“Shit,” he said, but when Wilder didn’t stir, he realized it was because he didn’t have his hearing aids on. Luca bit his lip, then crouched down next to him and touched his shoulder. Wilder shifted, then his eyes flew open, and he stared at Luca, a little wild and unseeing.

“How long was I out?”

Luca stood up and offered a hand to him, steadying him on his feet before he took space to sign. ‘I don’t know. I just got home. Why didn’t you text?’

Wilder dragged both hands down his face. ‘My phone died. My dad’s in the hospital.’

Luca’s eyes widened, and he fumbled for his keys, getting them both inside before easing Wilder down to the sofa cushion. ‘What happened?’

‘Heart attack,’ he spelled. He was gaunt, his fingers trembling a little, and his mouth was drawn in a tight line. ‘He’s not conscious.’

‘You need to go. Right?’ Luca pressed. ‘You need to be there.’

Wilder’s hesitation played out on his face, and he shifted on the cushion before shrugging. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. My sister spent all day FaceTiming me, trying to get me to drop everything and get a flight out.’

‘Why don’t you?’ Luca ached for him, wrenched by a sudden helplessness, because regardless of how much progress he had made with himself, this wasn’t something he could fix.

Wilder’s look was hopeless, lost, and instead of answering him, he grabbed Luca by the waist and buried his face in his chest. Luca’s arms came around him, holding him tight like they belonged there always. Wilder’s body shook a little, not like he was crying, but maybe a little bit like he wanted to.

“Take me to bed,” Wilder murmured against the fabric of his shirt.

Luca didn’t hesitate. He led the way to the bedroom, leaving all the lights off save for the dimmed lamp perched at the edge of the dresser. He stood Wilder at the foot of the bed, then methodically stripped him of his clothes. Laying everything in a neat pile, he took Wilder by the hand and tugged him across the hall to the bathroom and started the shower, letting it warm before he peeled out of his t-shirt and jeans.

‘Let me take care of you,’ he said. He couldn’t fix what was wrong, but he could do this. His heart sped up a little when Wilder nodded—not smiling with his mouth, but there was a sort of ease in his eyes that hadn’t been there when Luca first got home.

He swung the shower door wide, then stepped over the low hump, taking Wilder by the hand, and he stood him under the spray as he grabbed the washcloth he’d left hanging on a hook. His soap was from home, a luxury indulgence that felt suddenly right for the first time as he lathered it and smoothed the cloth over Wilder’s outstretched arms.

If anyone deserved to be bathed in decadence, it was the man there with him. He watched as Wilder’s head bowed, the way his hair curled slightly under the rivulets of water as it cascaded from the back of his head, running in rivers down his face. He was pliant under Luca’s ministrations, moving only when manipulated, his breathing even with the occasional hitch as his emotions overtook him.

Luca wanted to rage at the unfairness of it—at how he’d been given this gift, and how his life was still fine while Wilder was being forced to suffer more. Luca didn’t want to lose his parents—he wasn’t ready for that. But if anyone deserved to shoulder pain and loss, it was him.

He dragged his soapy fingers through Wilder’s hair, then tipped his head back and rinsed him with gentle strokes. When he was clean, he added conditioner, then backed him into the wall and cupped his face.

They had been in there only a handful of minutes, but it felt like an eternity since words had been spoken between them. Wilder’s eyes fluttered open when his back hit the cool tiles, and he looked at Luca like he was seeing him for the first time.

“I need you to kiss me,” he said aloud as his fingers dug into Luca’s elbows like he was trying to pin him in place. “Please.”

Luca wouldn’t make him beg. He hated that he even had to ask. He stepped forward, his chest warmed from the steam pressing against Wilder before he lowered his head and captured his mouth. He felt Wilder part his lips, felt his breath come out in a shudder. He opened his mouth wide, his tongue brushing against Wilder’s—letting that one kiss show him just how hard he was falling, just how much he needed him.

Wilder moaned, his cock going hard, and Luca hesitated. He wanted to make him feel good, wanted to make him feel possessed and treasured and adored, but they hadn’t talked yet, and he was unsure where the boundary lines were. Wilder seemed to sense his reluctance, because he pulled out of the kiss and locked gazes with Luca before taking him by the wrist, then putting his hand to where he was thick and throbbing between his legs.

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