Page 81 of State of Mind

‘I don’t care,’ Wilder replied.

Luca blinked. ‘I know insurance will…’

‘I don’t care,’ Wilder repeated. ‘You’re home, so I don’t care.’ He stepped in close, cramping his signing space, but it didn’t matter. ‘I found your note.’

Luca’s brows dipped in a heavy frown. ‘What? What note?’

Digging into his pocket, Wilder drew it out and unrolled it, letting Luca take it and hold it up against the light from the window. After a beat, his frown melted, and he looked embarrassed. “Oh my god,” he said aloud. ‘This was so dumb.’

Wilder laughed and curled one hand around his wrist. ‘It’s beautiful.’

Luca set it aside on their little table by the door, then cupped Wilder’s face with both hands. He didn’t answer him, instead drawing him in for a kiss as he walked him backward until his legs hit the sofa. They collapsed, a tangle of limbs, shared breath, lips parted and tongues soft and hot as he was pressed into the cushions and possessed and consumed and loved with every physical piece Luca had to offer.

When he pulled back, he straddled Wilder’s thighs and looked down at him. ‘I meant every word.’

Wilder grinned. ‘I know.’

‘I still do.’

Wilder curled one hand around Luca’s shirt, not caring that he was sopping wet, or leeching cold into his bath-warmed body, or that they would probably ruin the slipcover. He only cared that he was kissing him again, messy and perfect.

“I know,” he said aloud, his voice rumbling along their pressed lips.

Luca closed his eyes and smiled.

---