Page 17 of State of Mind

“Kindness? Have you heard of it?” When Luca didn’t move, Raphael walked all the way back, let go of a crutch, and clawed fingers into his shirt. He tugged Luca all the way in, then slammed the door, locked it, and reached for the little button on the open sign.

“Happy?”

Luca dragged a hand down his face. “Fine.”

Raphael seemed satisfied enough, and he started back to a small room with two pedicure chairs and two short rolling chairs. He pushed his crutches against the wall, then straddled the lower chair and attached the liner and the magnetic drain before turning the water on. “Saddle up, cowboy.”

“God, please don’t,” Luca begged, but he finally walked into the room and eased up onto the chair before leaning over to roll up the cuffs of his jeans. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what? Sweet, adorable, kind?” Raphael asked with a grin. He scooted over with his legs to a little cupboard and began to take out white packets of pedicure tools. “Or do you mean massive pain in the ass?”

“The second one. But…also the first?” Luca eased his feet into the water, hissing at the temperature, but after a moment, he felt knots in his calves start to ease.

When he dared to look back up, Raphael was back at his feet again, looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face. His eyes, a sort of soft blue, were narrowed. “People really aren’t nice to you?”

“People are nice when they want something from me,” he said with a shrug. “They’re nice when I have influence. That’s just how life works.”

“Not always,” Raphael said quietly. He turned the bubbles on, then pushed his hands into the water and grabbed both of Luca’s feet, digging his fingertips into the arches. It hurt, and he gasped, but suddenly his muscles went lax, and he sagged back against the massager that wasn’t moving. “Good?”

“Very,” Luca breathed out.

“I don’t normally do this. The owner, Jayden, he has me do his toes sometimes, but I don’t have fine motor skills with my fingers, so I could never get the polish right. But I’m great at the massage.”

“I can live with that,” Luca groaned when Raphael pushed his fingers in again. “He should let you do this always. Why don’t you?”

“Because touching most people’s feet is disgusting. But you seem like a clean man.”

“I’m glad you think so highly of me,” Luca deadpanned, but even as he said it, at the sight of Raphael’s little smile, he almost gave one back. He sank back a little more when Raphael pulled his left foot out, and he opened one of the packages to begin on his cuticles.

“You have good feet. You get pedicures a lot, don’t you?”

“Every four weeks. I don’t usually do polish.” He groaned as Raphael set the tools aside and poured oil into his hands, digging in deeper than he had in the water.

“Shit. Remind me to tip you a hundred percent.”

“Of zero?” Raphael asked with a small laugh.

Luca opened his eyes. “What?”

“I don’t charge for this. This is not my job. I answer phones, and I deal with the bullshit that Jayden doesn’t have the patience to deal with. I like that job. This is for friends only.”

“We just met. And I was a massive asshole.”

“Yes,” Raphael said, dragging fingertips from his ankles to his knee, then back down again. “You were. I don’t think it was on purpose.”

“Everyone else did,” Luca said softly as Raphael lowered his foot into the water and began on the second. “I don’t handle fear well.”

“What were you afraid of?”

Luca swallowed thickly. “There weren’t pine nuts listed on the menu.”

“So you said. Loudly. To Sonia and then to the chef,” Raphael said with a small smirk. He dug into the edges of Luca’s nails, then reached for the oil again.

“I’m allergic,” he said after a beat. “Really allergic. I have an epi-pen, but I realized it was here—in my fucking shaving kit, and I was starving, and I panicked because I knew I couldn’t order anything else in case the kitchen was contaminated.”

Raphael’s hands stopped for a beat, then resumed the massage before easing his foot back into the water. He leaned on the bowl, then grabbed Luca around the back of his calves and held tight. “You should have just said.”

“I was humiliated. Again. And panicking…and I don’t—” Luca heard his voice break, and he wanted to punch something—or maybe just give in and cry. He did neither, even though his throat ached like it was on fire. “I don’t belong here. I tried to leave, but that baker—Wilder—he stopped me.”

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