Page 50 of State of Mind

Jayden clutched them to his nose and breathed in. “God, these are the best. What else do you have?”

“Oh. Some Epsom salt and honey cubes for Raphael. Is he off today?”

Jayden’s eyes darkened. “Yes. Sick day.”

“Is everything okay?”

Jayden shook his head. “Sometimes he just has bad days. If you want, you can leave them on his desk. He’ll be back by Thursday.”

Luca felt a spike of worry for his friend, but Jayden seemed more protective than concerned, so Luca nodded and headed back out to the front. He left the cubes by the keyboard and scratched out a little note, then went upstairs so he could shower off and wait for Wilder to text him.

He’d been so busy, he hadn’t noticed the lack of activity on his phone—except to note that it had been nearly a week now that he’d been in Savannah and not even his siblings had checked up on him. But it didn’t feel as empty or hollow when he didn’t find messages from Wilder, because in spite of his anxiety, he knew that Wilder still wanted him.

He hadn’t changed his mind in the last six hours.

They were fine.

Wilder: I’m about to close up. Did you want to get together?

Luca: Come over?

Wilder: Yes. I’ll bring dinner this time.

Luca held his phone close to his chest, breathed out, then hurried for the shower and didn’t bother to put himself together beyond sweats and a t-shirt. His socks slid across the floor when he heard the soft knocking, and he managed to catch himself just before he opened the apartment and got a good look at Wilder’s grinning face.

“Bad time?”

Luca rolled his eyes as he stepped back to let him in. “Slippery floors.” He shut the door, then grabbed Wilder and crowded him against the wood, kissing him thoroughly. “How was your day?”

“Not as good as this,” Wilder said with a sigh. He curled his hand around the back of Luca’s neck and licked into his mouth before pulling away with a smacking peck to pouting lips. “I brought something from Enzo’s food truck. I wanted to bring something from the Tavern—but I thought you might want to talk to Rose first.”

Luca glanced away. “It’s not that I don’t trust them…”

“I get it,” Wilder said quietly. “I know it isn’t the same, but I know what food restrictions are like. I’ve gotten a concussion because of too much salt. The vertigo was awful, and I fell down the stairs all because someone lied and said something was made without it when they thought I was just being picky.”

Luca lifted the hand not weighted down by the to-go bag and kissed his palm. “I’ll talk to her.”

It was worth it to see Wilder’s smile like that—soft and relieved and hopeful. He pulled him into the living room and onto the stiff sofa cushions that had softened a bit after he’d spent an entire day there nursing his bruised balls. The pain was a lot less, but part of him wondered if it had to do with the fact that everything about him just felt so damn much better.

Either way, he didn’t care.

“TV?” he asked, reaching for the remote.

Wilder shook his head. “Food. Then I thought maybe we’d go out and take a walk or something. Stargaze?”

It was maybe the most romantic thing anyone had ever suggested, and Luca wasn’t quite sure he was ready to say yes—but he knew he wasn’t going to say no. “Whatever you want.”

Wilder looked at him for a long moment, his face unreadable, then he dug the food out and they sat in an oddly comfortable silence as they ate. They played footsie under the table, and bumped each other with their elbows because Wilder was left-handed, and Luca was right. And it felt like the most domestic thing in the world.

He could see it—suddenly and surprisingly—a future ahead of him that made no sense for the man he was, but would make perfect sense for the man he could be. His heart raced a little, but he didn’t want to run from it.

“I made soap today,” he blurted.

Wilder blinked, then turned to face him. “Did you say you made soap?”

“With Will. I…made you one. It’s stupid, but…”

Wilder shoved his plate on the table and took Luca’s from his hands. “Show me.”

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