Page 76 of Bad Pucking Roommate

He huffs out a frustrated breath. “I was. Clearly, we have different definitions of special.”

“How are sex toys special?”

He stops walking, forcing me to stop as well, and candidly says, “Sex is my love language. I’m trying to expand that to include touching since that’s Noah’s, but it’s still a bit foreign to me. So is the kind of sex I have with Noah which isn’t just about orgasms, but kink is my safe place, and he knows it, so to me toys are special.”

“I…” It’s not often that Tripp drops the shock and awe act, and when he does, I know I need to listen. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult your suggestion. It’s just that your safe space is a little foreign to me.”

“No harm done.” He links his arm through mine and leads us to a random gift shop. “But until you have some direction,maybe some actual shopping will help. You know, instead of just doing laps around the mall.”

Once we’re inside, the two of us drift apart, Tripp to the kitchen products—I assume because Noah isn’t a half bad cook—and me to the clothing. Most of it seems to be t-shirts with popular movies and books, and I’m hoping there might be one referencing the books we like. There isn’t, but like fate is smiling at me thereisone with the Godfather movie logo, andWorld’s Bestscribbled above it.

It’s goofy, bordering on obnoxious, and obviously cheap. Everything Luca’s not. It’s perfect!

Next, I find a display with all sorts of gift baskets. There are things for chocolate lovers, wine enthusiasts, guys with beards, and other hygiene preferences, but the ones that catch my eye are for baths. Mostly they’re full of flowery, feminine scents, but one looks more manly, with scents like bergamot, cedarwood and pine. I scoop it up.

Bypassing the kitchen section, I end up in what can only be described as the naughty section, which has suggestive magnets, books with dirty cocktail recipes, and a few silly games. Shockingly, Tripp isn’t here oohing and aahing over it, though I bet it’s not long before he finds it, so I have a few minutes to peruse without commentary.

Cards of Humanity, Ransom Notes, even Pictionary—a sexualized version—are stacked on the shelves, but it’s a pair of dice that catch my eye. Instead of numbers it has words; verbs on one and body parts on the other, so you could roll‘lick pussy’or‘suck nipple.’After sifting through a few I find one for men, and add that to my loot.

“There you are.” Tripp bounces on the balls of his feet when he finds me. “You grew up on a farm, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Why?”

“Look!” He holds up a cow figurine that has its udders pointing straight out like it’s got a boner. Half a dozen of them. “This is perfect for you.”

“What is it?”

“It jizzes cream in your coffee.” His eyes twinkle with mirth.

Thinking back to our visit to the milking barn, I crack a tiny smile. “You’re right, Tripp. Good find.”

On the way to the register, I pass a table full of books, and grab one about dragons and witches to round out my purchases. The saleslady rings me a grand total of ninety-three dollars, and even offers to gift wrap each and every item, which I immediately take her up on since that’s not a skill I possess.

“I think it’s pretty safe to say those are gonna be the cheapest gifts Luca’s ever received,” Tripp laughs as we leave the store. “I bet they’ll be some of his favorites.”

“I think so too.”

***

Luca gets home just as I’m cracking open a bottle of wine to go with our candlelit dinner, which I technically reheated instead of made, since I don’t cook. And we’re on special diets.

“What is this?” He pauses at the entry to the dining room, a space we’ve never used before, taking in the plates, candles, and a stack of presents.

“Your birthday dinner.” I pour us each a glass of the expensive red I snatched from the wine cellar that may or may not pair well with what we’re eating.

“My birthday isn’t until Friday.”

“We’ll be in New York Friday, so I decided to celebrate early.”

Luca closes the distance between us and takes the bottle from my hand, setting it softly on the table, before cupping my face in his hands. “No one’s ever surprised me for my birthday before.”

My eyes bug out. “No one?”

His head swivels back and forth almost imperceptibly before he brushes his lips over mine. “I didn’t have anyone. Outside the guys, I mean, and usually they’d just buy me a drink or something. I never got presents.”

“Never? Not even from your parents?”

“As a kid, yeah. But recently, no. Just a phone call.” His lips tease along my chin, down my neck.

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