Better Be True Read online

  “No, I want to buy an air mattress, and we need sheets for a king bed.” Luke stared at the bare mattress in front of them. “Unless you’re one of those super prepared people who brought sheets in every size.”

  “Oh.” Nico shifted his gaze to bed. “No. I brought twin sheets like we discussed.”

  “So, Walmart or Target?”

  “Target is closer.” Nico twisted his phone so Luke could see the screen. “Not really walkable, but not too far.” Nico tossed his keys, and Luke snagged them neatly from the air. “You can drive if you want.”

  Luke death-gripped the jagged metal. Him? Driving in the city? “Um . . . I couldn’t. It’s your car.”

  “Sure you can. I don’t get crazy protective over my wheels. You’re good, and I’m insured.”

  “It’s just . . .”

  Nico scrutinized Luke, careful gaze stroking his face, his posture. Luke tried to keep loose and casual, but those damn keys in his hand cut into his skin.

  “On second thought,” Nico said, “the electric engine takes getting used to. Might be easier if I drove.”

  Luke handed over the keys. Their eyes met, and Luke silently poured his thanks into the look. Nico nodded and strode out of the bedroom.

  “We’ll hit Target first, then get food. Then you can make the bed while I cook.”

  “Sounds like you like being in charge.”

  Nico glanced over his shoulder and winked, and Luke staggered with the hit of butterflies to his gut.

  Oh no, no. Nope.

  They were roommates.

  Luke wouldn’t mess up this summer any more than he had already.

  Nico

  Elisa: How’s day 1 of your Philly Adventure?

  Nico: About as well as things went in Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.

  Elisa: LOL! I had to google that to know WTF you meant.

  Nico: Here’s hoping today isn’t a sign of things to come.

  Nico put the last of the pasta in a container—one of the four containers the owner had. So much for a well-stocked kitchen. Tomorrow he’d see if his mother or Nonna had a few they could part with for the summer.

  He also needed to order an air mattress. Like what the fuck? How could Target and Walmart both be out of air mattresses?

  Luke hummed as he washed the pot. If he did that every night Nico cooked, this was a match made in heaven.

  “Thanks for cleaning up. It’s the one part of cooking I hate.”

  “Shit, this is the least I can do. Dinner was amazing.”

  Not amazing, but okay for something made on the fly. “You’re saying that because you eat at Harrison’s cafeteria.”

  “I’m saying that because I’m about to bust.” Luke patted his stomach as if dinner would do anything to change his flat abs.

  “Fresher herbs would have been better.” Mrs. R would know where to shop. Nico would ask in the morning.

  “Better? It can get better?” Luke narrowed his eyes on him. “Is this your plan so I let you cook for me all summer?”

  Nico laughed. “It’s my master plot to avoid washing pots all summer.”

  “I knew dinner was too good to be true.” Luke’s smirk morphed into a smile and ended with a wink that had Nico’s pulse skipping.

  If only Luke weren’t so slam-him-in-the-gut attractive. Like a sports model. Body all toned, lean muscle that bulged gently where it should, his arms. His ass . . .

  Nico whipped up the threadbare piece of cloth that passed for the lone dishtowel—something else to put on the care package list—and dried the pot. When they finished cleaning, Luke snagged his arm and towed him to the table.

  “Can we talk for a minute?”

  Nico cringed. Those words never ended well for him. “Sure.”

  Luke sat and absently drew on the grainy wood with his finger. “Thanks again for dinner.”

  “You don’t need to keep thanking me. It’s no big deal.”

  “Yeah, well I appreciate it. And for buying the sheets.”

  “But?” Nico prompted.

  “But you can’t keep paying for me,” Luke choked out.

  Ah. That. “I didn’t pay for you. I didn’t want bargain sheets. I’d break out if I slept on them.”

  “Can we cut the jokes?” Luke shifted his gaze from the table to Nico. “I know what you’re doing, and I appreciate it, but I can take care of myself.”

  “I know, but . . .” No but. Nico had to respect Luke’s position. “I won’t push it again. I’m sorry.”

  Luke puffed up his cheeks, blew out the air. “You’re being super nice.”

  “But it makes you uncomfortable. Got it.”

  Silence stretched between them, all kinds of awkward fun.

  Luke’s Adam’s apple jutted. “I shouldn’t have taken this internship, but it was the only Big Four offer I got. And, well, there was Kent.”

  “What should you have done instead?”

  “Taken a different offer closer to home.” He shrugged. “Or gone home to work on a farm.”

  “Are your parents farmers?”

  “God, no.” Luke laughed. “We live in a subdivision. Dad’s a manager for a national insurance company, and Mom’s a tech at a hospital.”

  “Okay, so where’s this farm you’d have worked on?”

  “They’re all around us, actually. I’ve always found work during the summer.”

  “So this year’s a change for you.”

  “Big time.” Luke’s soft voice made him seem homesick.

  Nico suppressed the urge to lean in and hug him. He wasn’t sure where Luke stood with casual contact. Probably wouldn’t welcome it, jock that he was.

  Luke straightened in his chair. “My parents didn’t love Kent, but they supported me taking the internship. They’re helping me afford a summer with no job.”

  “And you don’t want to keep asking them for more.”

  “Exactly. They already give me more than they should. Dad keeps telling me it’s fine because I got a scholarship, but they need the money.”

  Living with Isaiah for two years, Nico totally got it.

  A sad, faraway look tinted Luke’s eyes. “This summer I wanted to prove I can be independent.”

  Curiosity gnawed at Nico. “Why?”

  Luke paused as if weighing how much to share. Vulnerability glinted in his eyes, and Nico wished he’d kept his mouth shut. “You don’t have to answer that—”

  “My sister is autistic, and it’s unlikely she’ll be able to live on her own. Their biggest fear is what will happen when they’re gone.”

  Nico held back a flood of questions. His picture of Luke became fuller with every hour they spent together—and Nico liked the glimpses of the man he saw inside. “Okay. I can see that.”

  “My parents have been balancing saving for her future and helping me. They feel that they should give us equal.” He shook his head vehemently. “I don’t need equal. Rosalie needs to be their focus.”

  “And you wanted them to see they could focus on your sister.”

  “Yet every decision I’ve made does the opposite.”

  “Luke . . .” Nico floundered for the right words. “I’ll be more sensitive to your situation.”

  “You’re fine. Really.” Luke perked up and flashed him a grin. “Your excuses suck, though. No one breaks out in hives from cheap sheets.”

  “No, but do you need king-size sheets?”

  “Ah, no.”

  “Me neither. I figure I’ll send them home when we go back to school, but Nonna would never use ones with low thread count.”

  “Low what?”

  “Thread count. The higher the count, the better the quality of the fabric.”

  Luke looked skeptical. “I never knew that.”

  “It’s true. So it would’ve been a waste of money if we’d bought something Nonna would never use.” That, and she’d give Nico the business for not spending wisely. Quality before quantity, always.

  Luke eyed Nico quietly. “Can I ask you s
omething?”

  “Why am I afraid?”

  Luke laughed, low and creamy. “Because you’re a paranoid city boy?”

  Nico crossed his arms. “That’s so me. What’s your question, country boy?”

  “You talk way more about your grandparents than your parents. What’s up with that?”

  “Ah, that.” Nico kept his tone light. “Got a minute?”

  “Want me to make coffee?”

  “Are you any good at it? You think ramen is a meal.”

  “Funny. I can handle coffee.” He popped up and opened the cabinet where they’d stashed the coffee. “Talk while I measure.”

  “I think you like being in charge, too.” Luke reddened, and Nico smiled innocently. “The bakery has been in the family for four generations. Five if you count me. But things are very different now than they were even thirty-five years ago when Nonno’s father died. My grandfather didn’t adapt to change very well.

  “Nonno is an amazing pastry chef and baker, but a lousy business owner. He’d make too much of one thing that didn’t sell and not enough of what people wanted. He’d order too much butter and it’d go bad, but they never had enough flour or sugar. People wanted premium coffee and he stuck with the cheaper stuff. That kind of thing. And he was terrible at managing employees.”

  “Wow, dude. Don’t hold back.” Luke glanced up from scooping grounds into the basket. “I thought you liked him?”

  “I love him to death. Who do you think told me all this?”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. He knew he was killing the business, but like all Amatos, he wouldn’t ask for help. Finally, Nonna stepped in.”

  “Wasn’t she helping him run the business?”

  “Oh, heavens no. Nonno was old school Italian. His wife did not work. She ruled the house. When I was five, she called a family meeting with my father and his two sisters. She explained the situation and asked her children if they wanted to keep the business or sell it. My aunts don’t work and had no interest in helping run the business, so they voted to sell. My father was already working there, trying to fix things, but so long as Nonno was in charge, he could only do so much. He voted to keep it.”

  “So your dad bought out his sisters.” Luke opened two cabinet doors before taking down two mugs.

  “No and yes.” Nico moved into the kitchen to wait for the coffee to finish. “Nonna and Nonno had bought out Nonno’s siblings years ago— they owned the business. They appointed my dad to run it and began transferring ownership to him as part of his salary.”

  “Bet that went over well.”

  “Like a drag brunch without alcohol.” Nico snapped his right hand, and immediately scolded himself. He was supposed to tone that down.

  Luke eyed him, his hand, his stupid cargo shorts and shirt, and frowned. “Like what?”

  “It didn’t go over well.”

  “Did you say like a drag brunch?”

  Nico tapped the coffeepot as if that would make it finish sooner. “That was a bit much, I suppose.”

  “There’s such a thing?”

  “Huh?”

  “Drag brunch. That exists?”

  Where had this guy been? “Yeah. I went to a few in New York. To eat.”

  “Do they have those in Philly?”

  Not the conversation he expected to have on their first night in the apartment. “Maybe. I never checked.”

  “We should go if they have one.” He reached for the coffeepot, then stopped. “If it’s not too expensive.”

  “Okay, sure.” Unexpected, but—

  “Awesome.”

  Yeah, awesome.

  Luke removed the pot and filled both cups. “You were telling me about your parents.”

  “Right.” Nico sipped and stared at Luke over the lip of the cup. “Once Papà took over, he realized two things. One, the business was worse than he expected. And two, he couldn’t manage the bakery and the financial side alone. Which meant he needed help. Since my aunts weren’t interested, he got my mom to help him.”

  “I take it your mom didn’t work before that?”

  “She did before my older brother was born.”

  “Your grandfather was okay with that?”

  “That was one of Papà’s conditions for taking over. He also said Nonno had to remain in the business as head pastry chef and Nonna had to help watch me and my siblings.”

  Luke gulped his coffee. “You spent more time with your gran—nonna—growing up.”

  “Yep. And being the baby of the family, I’m her favorite.”

  “Must be your incredible modesty.”

  “Whatever.” Nico hid a smirk in another sip. “Okay, you did a good job with this.”

  Luke picked up the bag. “I think it’s the coffee we bought. I never heard of Lavazza, but I like it.”

  “Well the bag does say it’s Italy’s favorite.” Nico shrugged. “It’s pretty good.”

  A smile stretched Luke’s lips. “You totally bought it because it said that, didn’t you?”

  Nico tried to play it straight but couldn’t hold back the goofy grin. “Busted. But hey, it turned out to be good, right?”

  Luke nodded once and raised his cup. “Here’s to the rest of the summer turning out good, too.”

  Nico inched his mug higher. “And to our first night!”

  Nico put his toothbrush in the holder and clicked off the light. The one in the bedroom glowed into the hall, easing the way, but not easing his nerves. He hadn’t shared a bed with a guy that he wasn’t sleeping with since he was six. And Joey Virgosia’s family was so close to his, they were like relatives.

  Pulling back the sheet, he kept his eyes on his side of the bed. Not that it mattered. Luke had gotten in before him and lay on his side facing the wall. He couldn’t nail down what weirded him out most. That he barely knew Luke, or that he was sharing a bed with a totally hot, single gay guy and they wouldn’t do anything but sleep.

  He turned off the lamp on the nightstand, rolled onto his back, and stared at the darkened ceiling.

  Don’t think about how hot he is. Don’t think about how sweet he might possibly be.

  Oh God, Luke—jock Luke—was afraid to drive in the big city. He wanted to prove himself to show his parents he’d be there for his sister.

  Nico was big in trouble.

  He turned on his side, back to Luke.

  So what if Nico liked the guy? That didn’t mean anything would happen. Dating someone who still had a thing for their ex was like flicking a lighter around flammable liquid. It never ended well.

  Plus, he’d seen Luke frown when he got campy. Luke would never seriously go for someone like Nico.

  They could be friends—maybe even good friends—but that was it.

  Absolutely it.

  Chapter Six

  Luke

  Kent: What’s the room # we’re meeting at tomorrow?

  Luke: Seriously?

  Kent: Yeah, I can’t find the email.

  Luke: 27th floor, room 42. 9 am.

  Kent: Thanks! Knew you’d know it. You’re always so organized.

  That was him, always with the information handy.

  Luke set the phone on the table and closed his laptop. No wonder Kent thought he was boring.

  He should have ignored Kent’s message. Or at least made him sweat an hour.

  He stretched his neck, sore from sleeping so stiffly.

  “Seriously, E? It’s Sunday!” Nico’s voice carried into the kitchen from the bedroom. “Fine. Send it, and I’ll look at it. Later. Luke and I are going shopping today.”

  Luke gulped the fresh batch of coffee he’d brewed. Nico had suggested they go to the Italian market, but should he? His stomach was a knotted mess. Tomorrow, the rest of his life began.

  Only 10 percent of interns got offers, according to the career development office at Harrison, and Luke was determined to be one of them.

  “Why would I have talked to the asshole? He dumped me.” Nico’s voice grew
distant. The bathroom door snicked shut, muffling the rest of his words.

  The easy way Nico bantered with his sister had Luke yearning for the same, for home. Maybe he could squeeze in a trip home before school started? Finances permitting.

  “Okay. I’ll call tonight if I have any questions,” Nico said as he emerged into the kitchen a few moments later. His fiery, bemused gaze hit Luke’s with warmth and frustration. “Ugh. My sister is crazy.”

  “I heard.” Luke suppressed a smile. “What’s wrong?”

  Nico tugged the rim of his light blue polo shirt that sat upon brown khakis. The sleeves stretched around his biceps, showing off considerable definition. But that wasn’t what sparked Luke’s curiosity.

  This made two days in a row Nico had worn obviously newly bought clothes. New, yet plainer than he’d first seen on the guy. Something about it didn’t sit right with Luke—maybe the way the clothes didn’t sit right on Nico.

  Not that he looked bad—that would make summer easier—no, the clothes looked comfortable. Just that Nico looked uncomfortable in them.

  Nico stopped fiddling with his shirt and poured coffee into a mug. “Wrong? Nothing and everything. She’s at home. Elliott’s here in Philly studying for the bar exam, and she has nothing else to do except nitpick about wedding details.”

  The chair skidded as Luke got up with his empty cup. “It is her wedding, and she did hire you to be the planner.”

  Nico snorted. “If I were a real wedding planner, there’s no way she’d call me on a Sunday. She’s taking full advantage of the fact I love her to death.”

  Luke raised an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me.”

  “Pfft. That’s just how we talk.” Nico took a long sip and eyed Luke. “I poked my head in and you were scowling at your phone. Everything alright?”

  Luke grimaced. “Fine. Kent lost the orientation email with tomorrow’s details.”