Better Be True Read online

  Better Be True

  Andy Gallo

  Anyta Sunday

  Better Be True

  Copyright © 2020 by Andy Gallo and Anyta Sunday

  P.O. Box 1654 College Park, MD 20741, USA

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Art

  © 2020 Cate Ashwood

  www.cateashwooddesigns.com

  Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

  All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any for or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Andy Gallo, P.O. Box 1654, College Park, MD 20741, USA; visit www.andygallo.com; or send an email to [email protected].

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Better To Believe

  About Andy

  About Anyta

  Also by Anyta Sunday

  From Andy

  For my husband Michael, for encouraging me to write and for allowing me to chase my dreams. And to ’lil q, my daughter, for keeping my life in balance. You both teach me the meaning of love.

  Chapter One

  Nico

  Elisa: Need to speak to you ASAP. Emergency!!!!

  Nico: Way too many exclamations. Give me a few I’m about to meet Tomas.

  Elisa: Serious! Call Me! Huge Prob!!

  Nico Amato shook his head. What was it about getting married that turned his normally rock-solid sister into a bundle of jittery nerves?

  Would he be like that when he got married? One day. Maybe.

  Hopefully?

  He palmed his phone into his pocket and thanked the guy who let him into the Pi Zeta Eta house.

  A string of hollers met Nico’s ears when he rounded into the lounge. He was immediately hit with the scent of Doritos, sweaty feet, and toxic masculinity. On the TV, some uniformed Hercules chased a ball.

  Nico didn’t recognize the team; didn’t much care, either. He wasn’t here for sport. He was here for Tomas.

  His boyfriend.

  His boyfriend of three months.

  A record for Nico.

  His lips curved at the sight of him, sprawled like a hot Italian god over an armchair. Nico had lucked out. Not only was Tomas hot, he was Italian-American and from New York. His nonna had approved when he’d told her he’d met someone.

  She’d tried so hard to get a name out of him, but they were still so fresh, and he couldn’t have Nonna noseying her way into Tomas’s family when Nico hadn’t even met them yet.

  Maybe that was what Tomas wanted to chat about?

  Summer break was practically upon them; maybe he wanted to know if Nico was up for meeting the ’rents.

  His stomach hopped with nerves and hope.

  Before Nico could speak up, Tomas’s buddy nudged him and pointed toward Nico.

  Tomas sprang to his feet so fast, Nico hid a grin.

  “My God, Tomasso Merighi, you make my heart flutter just walking.” He put his right hand on his chest.

  When their eyes met, Tomas’s body sagged.

  So did Nico’s good mood.

  Tomas cuffed his elbow and curtly steered him out of the lounge. “I thought I said to text when you got here?”

  “Your brother recognized me and let me in.” Nico frowned. What the actual fuck was this about? “What’s wrong?”

  Fresh air hit them, and Tomas started pacing the porch before him.

  Nico’s stomach ached as he waited. He knew this awkward silence. He’d experienced it, oh, a hundred times before.

  “We’re . . . this isn’t working.” Tomas rubbed his nape, never meeting Nico’s gaze. “I’m sorry. I think we should . . . you know. See other people.”

  “What happened?” Nico said, throat pinched. “I mean, we were good Thursday night.”

  “No, we weren’t.”

  “So that was someone else I fucked after your frat party?” Tomas had been a bit drunk and insisted they leave early. The sex had been totally hot.

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  Nico’s hands flew to his hips, and he cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

  Tomas glanced up, brows furrowing. “That is what I mean.” He gestured toward Nico’s stance. “Everything is so dramatic with you.”

  “Dramatic?” Nico raised his hands and pointed toward his hips. “You think this is dramatic? You’re breaking up with me. What do you expect? Roses and a sonnet about how wonderful you are?”

  “No. It’s just . . . You wore a shiny purple coat, eyeliner, and tight leather pants to a fraternity party. It was a kegger.”

  The picture came into focus, and its reality stung. “I embarrassed you in front of your bigoted frat brothers.”

  “They’re not bigots, Nico.” Anger flashed in Tomas’s eyes. “They never cared when I told them I’m gay. This is about us. You like big!” Tomas thrust his arms out, wildly. “You like being the center of attention—everyone’s attention—really in their face. I’m not like that.”

  “In their face.” Nico blinked back the burn in his eyes.

  He should be used to this by now.

  It was always the same. Nico was too much. Too touchy-feely. Too colorful.

  Too fucking loud.

  He formed a plastic smile. Never mind that behind it he felt achingly empty and inadequate. He wouldn’t let Tomas know how shattering his words were. How much he’d hoped this time would be different.

  When would Nico learn it was pointless to hope?

  “I’m truly sorry you feel this way,” Nico said. “You don’t need to say anything else. I won’t make a scene. My big boy pants are on.”

  Nico turned his back on Tomas and Pi Zeta-fucking-Eta and stalked off.

  Harrison campus blurred as he cut through it. In the middle of the brightly lit corridor leading to the central library, Nico’s phone vibrated.

  Elisa: C’mon, Nico. Call me! This is a disaster.

  Not the best timing, but maybe her problems would help him forget his own. He hit dial and braced for it.

  “Nico! Thank God. I’m so screwed. The wedding planner quit today. Her mother is sick and she needs to go to Boston to take care of her. I can’t believe this. How can this be happening? The wedding’s in three months and—”

  “I’ll take over, Elisa.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll take over and make sure everything’s perfect.”

  “Oh my God, Nico, you’re the best.”

  Nico raised an eyebrow. Clearly this was what she’d wanted him to say. “It’s what little brothers do
.”

  “Wait, you were supposed to be in New York. With your boyfriend.”

  “Ex-boyfriend.”

  “But . . .”

  “Just happened.”

  “Oh, boo. I’m so sorry to be dumping on you now.”

  Great choice of words. “You’re not. This is perfect. I don’t want to go home, and you need someone in Philly to make sure your wedding is amazing.”

  “Are you sure? I could always look around for someone else . . .”

  He snorted softly. They both knew she’d never find anyone decent at this late date. All the best planners were booked.

  “I got this, E. Just pay for me to stay in Philly and give me some spending money, and I’ll make sure this is everything you dreamed of.” And that Nico wanted, but would never have.

  “Boo, you are the best. I’ll make sure Papà pays you what he was going to give the planner. You’ll be all set up.”

  Nico scoffed. “No way Papà will pay me the same as your planner.”

  “If he doesn’t want to hear me whine every day, he will.”

  A laugh barked from his throat. Their father hadn’t been able to refuse Elisa ever since she learned how to talk. “Whatever you say.”

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best brother ever! Sorry about that douche canoe.”

  “Let it go, E. He’s not worth it.” He really wasn’t, and Nico wanted to bury the hurt that came from his rejection. “I’ll find a place and send you the deets to pass on to Papà so he can cut the check.”

  “I love you to the moon and back.”

  “A hundred million googolplex times.” Nico smiled at their traditional signoff. Something they’d been doing since they were in kindergarten. “I’ll call you tomorrow. And E?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t tell anyone Tomas and I broke up. I’m not in the mood for the barrage of calls.”

  “You got it.”

  He hit end and stared at the phone. Philly was unexpected, but at least it would give him time to rethink his life.

  Luke

  Kent: I’m sorry, Luke, but I’ve met someone who lives closer to me and I want to be with them. It’s better for both of us. Long distance wasn’t working.

  Lucas “Luke” DeRosa stared at the laptop, stunned. An email? Nine months together, and Kent broke up in an email?

  The cowardly, cheating bastard!

  This couldn’t be happening. Luke had bummed rides and taken the bus to spend weekends together. He'd almost failed a midterm because he spent the weekend before nursing Kent when he'd been sick. Hell, Luke had planned his entire summer around Kent. Gave up the job back home to go to Philly and intern at the same accounting firm. They were going to live together.

  Oh, fuck. Their apartment.

  His dorm room door opened, and his roommate sauntered in like he’d never had a bad day in his life. Luke glanced up, and Coury’s smile vanished.

  “Yo, what’s wrong, bro?” He plopped next to Luke on the bed. “You don’t look good. What happened?”

  “Kent broke up with me.”

  “What?” Coury straightened. “Why?”

  That was what Luke wanted to know. “Said the distance thing was too much, and he met someone else.”

  “What a fucker. Seriously?”

  God, he wished it was a joke. “Shiiiiit. I sublet the apartment for us both and he’s staying with his new—with this other guy now.”

  He should have seen the signs. Kent had blamed Luke for their inability to connect. Said Luke’s baseball schedule kept them apart. And being the fool he was, Luke accepted it had been his fault. Made up excuses to believe him when Kent said he couldn’t drive to Harrison.

  “I’m so fucking stupid.”

  Coury put a casual arm around his roommate. “Don’t blame yourself for his assholery.”

  “Assholery?” Luke snorted. “Is that a real word?”

  “Ninety-nine percent sure it is. This isn’t on you.”

  “Yeah, up here I get it.” He tapped his head before moving his hand down to his chest. “But here?”

  “I’m sorry, Luke.” Coury clapped Luke across the back. “Don’t sweat Philly. We’ll figure something out.”

  Luke laughed. “I didn’t know you were coming too. Though help with rent would be ace.”

  “You know what I mean.” Coury got up and pulled his laptop from his backpack. “The campus has a roommate-wanted site. That’s how I found the off-campus place I’m living in this summer. Don’t know if I saw any listings in Philly, but I remember seeing people advertise for other cities.”

  So many problems with that idea. “Did I mention it’s a one-bedroom apartment?”

  “Details.” Coury typed. “First thing is to find you a roommate, then you can worry about who’s sleeping where.”

  “You don’t need to do this. I’ll figure it out.”

  “I’m sure you will, but I know you. You’ll go into a funk and procrastinate. You’ve only got a couple of weeks to sort this out.”

  “Right, because so many people at Harrison are going to Philly for the summer and still need a place to live.”

  “Hey, things happen.” Coury nodded pointedly at Luke. “People get dumped. I’m sure there are more than a few people who’ve had a change of plans.”

  “Sure. Tons.”

  “All you need is one.” He spun the screen around. “Fill out the details.”

  Luke stared blankly. His choices were limited. If he had to pay for the apartment by himself, he’d need to get a part-time job over the summer and during the school year. Both of those would affect his job prospects after he graduated.

  Asking his family was a no-go, too.

  “Right.” Luke took the laptop and started typing. “All I need is one.”

  Chapter Two

  Nico

  Nico glared at his phone screen as he hurried toward his sociology lecture. Elisa smiled sheepishly, her cheeks ruddy, her hair a mass of almost black curls around her shoulders.

  “Seriously, E. Papà’s paying me half what he was paying the wedding planner. Half. Have you seen what rents cost? There won’t be enough to eat and go out.”

  “Go out . . .” He could hear her eyes roll. “You have savings. Or you could room with someone?”

  Nico cast his head toward the cloudy sky. Okay, so yes, he had money. But that was not the point. He didn’t want this job to cost him.

  As for rooming . . . his stomach twisted sharply. He had it good with Isaiah at Harrison, but a roommate like him was one in a million. Not everyone could handle Nicodemo Giacomo Amato.

  He’d be in for an awkward summer.

  Lips pressed in a firm line, he met Elisa’s pleading brown eyes. His jaw unlocked. Elisa was doing that thing. That weaseling into his heart thing. That thing Nico couldn’t get grumpy at. “Fine,” he sighed dramatically. “I’ll share with someone or I’ll tap my savings. But if Papà starts getting fussy and ultra-demanding, you gotta rein him in with those puppy eyes.”

  She snorted, rolling her eyes. “He’s not that bad.”

  “Sister, please.” He snapped his fingers dramatically, hitting a passerby in the face.

  A little overzealous. His bad. “Oh, my. I’m sorry,” Nico said, eyes latching on to the guy’s disapproving frown.

  “Whatever.”

  Don’t check him out. Don’t.

  But Nico did. He couldn’t help it. Because the guy was quite the specimen of athletic grace. Lean and toned and very, very hot. Brown floppy hair and hazel eyes. Dark shirt. Navy jeans. Big hands. Bigger feet . . .

  Nico jerked his head up and pressed his fingers against his chest. “Sincerely sorry. You know, about your face.”

  Hottie remained a beat, hesitating, frown deepening as his gaze sized him up.

  Nico pushed the pain of that judgement under all the other such moments he’d experienced in his life. Just another Tuesday.

  Nico stepped to Hottie’s right, and Hottie lurched
to Nico’s left. They collided, Nico’s foot stomping on Hottie’s toes. For crying out loud.

  They both corrected, and it became a ridiculous mirrored dance.

  Heat whispered up Nico’s neck, and someone giggled. His traitorous sister, who still stared at him from the phone he clutched.

  Nico stopped moving, turned sideways and swept his arms theatrically to the side. “After you.”

  Hottie passed like he was on fire, tossing out a sarcastic, “Thanks.”

  Nico admired the magnificent ass as it moved down the sidewalk. Too bad he was an asshole. “Stupid fucker.”

  The guy’s step stuttered. His shoulders lifted in a deep inhale, then he kept walking. His “Fuck my life so hard” trailed on a breeze toward Nico.

  Fuck his life? Poor hottie had a run-in with a bit of flamboyance. His life was ruined. He’d have to hide it from his jock friends. He’d be depressed for the whole day.

  Nico kissed a middle finger at his retreating figure and swallowed to fill the achy inferiority in his gut. The loneliness.

  “Boo?” Elisa’s voice sounded far away. Nico returned his focus to her. “You okay?”

  “Fine, E. Tell Papà I’ll call him tonight with an update. And don’t worry. I’ll find a place to stay.”

  “You’re the best!”

  Yeah, the best drama queen.

  Luke

  Luke lay in bed, awake, unable to switch off his mind.

  Completely screwed might sum up his situation.