Happy (23 page)

Happy |
Chris Scully

133

A twist of Peter’s lips. “Oh you were pretty clear.”

Louie suppressed a twinge of guilt for laying all that on Peter while

his dad was in the ER. But he deserved it. Didn’t he?

Louie gulped his wine. “So is this your plan? Pretend like nothing

happened?”

“Actually, I’m kind of winging it right now. I figured you wouldn’t

kick me out if I brought food.”

Louie had to laugh. “You figured correctly.” Already, the apartment

was filling with a delicious aroma that was making his stomach growl. The

wine was relaxing him, and he was quickly remembering how much he

liked Peter’s company. Even the scent of his cologne was welcome—simply

because it was
him
. Maybe they could salvage a friendship out of this. His

other feelings would fade eventually. Right?

Yeah, he could do this. Be friends.

“How do you feel about weddings?” Peter asked abruptly.

“Mine? Or weddings in general?”

Peter snickered, but all of a sudden he looked nervous. “Joe’s sister is

getting married on Saturday. I thought… you might want to come with me.”

“I don’t even know Joe’s sister.”

“You know me. And Joe. And Adam.”

“And let me guess, now that you and Demetra have ended your make-

believe relationship, you need a plus-one.”

“I’ve never wanted to take Demetra. I want to take you. As my date,”

he added with a hopeful glance.

Louie stared. That’s all he could do because the connection between

his brain and his heart seemed to be short-circuiting. He carefully set

down his wineglass so he wouldn’t drop it.

“Louie?”

“I don’t understand. What about your family?”

A look of pain creased Peter’s face. “As soon as Pop’s well enough,

they’re going back to Greece for a while.”

“Oh, Peter, I’m sorry.”

“I’m taking over the restaurant—for real this time. I’ve got some

big plans.” Peter took a deep breath. “They know. About you. They’re not

exactly thrilled with me right now. But I think this might be worth it.” He

curled his fingers in the front of Louie’s shirt and tugged him closer. Louie

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Chris Scully

134

went, letting his hands fall to Peter’s hips. He might be a fool, but it felt so

good to be able to touch Peter again, to be close.

“You told your family?”

Peter nodded. “I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry. But I’m not
him
, Louie.

I’m not. I wasn’t hiding, not exactly. I’m not ‘confused,’ or experimenting,

or going through a phase. None of this is a surprise to me—there was just

never anyone who mattered enough to take that final step for. So I’m here.

And I’m asking you to go on a date with me. Out in the open. Like anyone

else,” he teased.

“Why?” Louie dared to ask. He needed to know that Peter was sure,

that he wouldn’t be cast aside when things got complicated.

“Why?” Peter seemed genuinely amused. “Because I want to prove

you wrong. I’m choosing
you
, Louie.”

For now.
The words echoed in Louie’s head but not as strongly as they

once had. In fact, there was a new flare of hope in his belly that hadn’t been

there before. Peter had already demonstrated his commitment in so many

ways. What more could he ask of him?

“So maybe we won’t work out,” Peter continued. “Maybe your

snoring will drive me crazy. Or you’ll get tired of picking my socks up off

the floor—”

“I don’t snore.”

“My point is, if it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. It’ll be

because of
us
, not because it’s somehow more complicated—which is

crazy by the way. But most of all, I don’t want it to be because I didn’t

even try in the first place. There’s something really good here. Right? I’m

not just imagining it?”

Louie’s heart leapt. He shook his head, earning a soft smile from Peter.

“Is that yes or no? Help me out here because I’m not so good at reading

signals.”

“Yes,” Louie replied hoarsely, “there’s something good.” His vision

blurred a bit and he had to blink to clear it.

“So, am I convincing you? I had this whole speech—”

“Peter,” Louie exclaimed with a nervous laugh. “You can stop now.”

He clasped Peter’s face between his hands and planted a kiss on his lips.

Peter kissed him back—eagerly, with passion, as if it had been a month

they’d been apart instead of a week. Their tongues wrestled. And for a while

there was no more talking.

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135

When Louie finally drew back, he was breathless. And hard. Peter’s

hands were up under his shirt, on his chest, and he wondered if he could feel

the way his heart was racing. “How long until dinner is ready?”

“Um, forty minutes. Why?” Peter’s eyes flashed as Louie tucked his

fingers in his waistband and tugged him in the direction of the bedroom.

“Are we going to have makeup sex?”

He sounded so excited, Louie laughed. “Unless you’d rather watch TV.”

Peter’s hands flew to the buttons on his shirt. He only managed half

before whipping it over his head and dropping it to the floor behind him as

they moved into the bedroom. “Did I mention I brought dessert?”

NINE MONTHS LATER

Peter woke with a smile on his face and a warm body snuggled up

behind him. The cock wedged up against his asscheeks was a bonus. What

could be better?

This was his favorite time of day. The intimacy of sleeping with the

person he loved and waking up next to him. Now that the restaurant was

busier, Louie was often in bed asleep by the time he made it home. Home—

another thing he loved—the way it sounded when he said it. Over the past

few months he’d spent so much time at Louie’s that he’d finally given up

pretending he didn’t want to be there permanently.

Mornings had become their time; Louie was an early riser anyway and

didn’t start work until ten, so there was nothing Peter liked more than being

woken up to make love, and then drifting back off to sleep when Louie went

to work.

This morning, in that hazy, dreamy moment before fully awakening,

with the room brightening by the minute and the sounds of the city waking

up tugging at his consciousness, Peter only knew he didn’t want to move.

Ever. He belonged here.

Instinctively, he shifted his hips back a fraction, seeking firmer contact

with the body behind him. The slow heat building in his groin flared to life,

like a spark catching fire. His own penis stiffened.

The tightening of Louie’s arm around his waist and the subtle hitch in

his breathing told Peter he too was awake. His fingers began lightly combing

through the hair on Peter’s chest. Louie’s palm lazily stroked across his

nipples, his stomach. Every sensation seemed heightened—the brush of

Louie’s beard across his ear made his skin burst into gooseflesh, the soft

scrub of Louie’s hairy leg rubbing against his made Peter’s cock leak. A

minor adjustment of position, and then Louie’s length was between his legs,

nudging up against his balls.

Peter tightened his thighs as Louie slowly began to thrust. Fireworks

went off in his brain. He imagined Louie fucking him like this, filling him. His

excitement rocketed up another notch. “Enough with the teasing,” he mumbled.

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“Just making sure you’re awake.”

“Seriously? The day I sleep through this, just put me out of my misery.”

It was always like this with Louie—the dizzying rush of happiness,

the laughter bubbling in his chest. He turned his head for a kiss, but in their

current position, Louie’s lips only landed at the corner of his mouth. Peter

groaned in frustration, twisted his torso until he found a better angle, and

then sighed when their mouths met fully. He reached one arm behind to hold

Louie’s head in place; with the other, he gripped his own cock, occasionally

stroking but wanting to stave off his orgasm as long as possible.

“Are you going to make me do all the work?” Louie teased.

“That was the plan.” Peter didn’t even open his eyes.

“You are such a lazy bastard.” The bed jostled as Louie bolted upright.

“Shit. It’s nearly eight o’clock, Peter. Didn’t you set the alarm clock?” Louie

slapped his chest. “Get up. We have to be there in an hour.”

“What?” Peter asked, still clinging to sleep.

“The wedding?”

“Who gets married at 9:00 a.m. on a weekday?” He groaned as Louie

pulled back the curtains and daylight filled the room.

“People trying to work around your schedule, that’s who. Oh, and

wear the blue shirt with the paisley tie. That always looks good on you.”

Peter bit back his smile as Louie flitted around the bedroom. He’d become

awfully bossy, but Peter didn’t mind a bit.

Louie vanished into the bathroom and Peter heard the shower turn

on. He’d miss that giant shower when the lease was up in two weeks. It

sure had seen some good times. Their new place—the apartment above the

restaurant, which his pop was renting to them at a discount—only had an

old, narrow tub. He grinned. Then again, that could be fun too.

“Are you coming?” Louie called. “Or do I have to shower by myself?”

Peter needed no urging. “When you put it that way….”

They made it with time to spare after all. Peter noted his surroundings as

they navigated their way through city hall to the room where marriages were

performed. He might be here again one day, when the time was right. He

chuckled under his breath at the notion—a year ago the thought would have

sent him into a panic, but today it only filled him with optimism. Sometimes

he had trouble believing he was the same person.

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“There you are,” Joe exclaimed as they rounded the corner. He looked

supremely sexy in a lightweight beige suit. “Nice of you both to finally

make an appearance. It’s not as if it’s my wedding day or anything.”

“Don’t mind him,” Adam interjected. He was similarly attired but far

more relaxed. “He’s been like this all morning.”

Joe’s parents, Vito and Lucia, greeted them warmly. Joe’s mom already

appeared on the verge of tears as she straightened her son’s tie and then went

to fuss with Adam’s boutonniere. There was a twinge of bittersweet envy in

Peter’s chest but he pushed it aside. Would he ever have that? Would Louie?

Only time would tell.

Louie struck up a conversation with Vito, leaving Peter to watch in

amusement as Joe paced restlessly up and down the corridor as they waited

their turn. “I’ve never seen you so nervous.”

“I’m not nervous. I’m impatient. I feel like I’ve waited forever for

this.” Joe turned and pointed at the closed door. “And this guy is two minutes

behind schedule.”

Peter laughed. “I can’t believe you guys are even here. I thought for

sure you’d have a big Italian wedding like Maria.”

Joe shrugged. “It’s called compromise, Petey. I get the big party, but

Adam wanted this part to be just for us.”

Peter couldn’t blame him. He thought that’s how he’d want it, too—if

he were to get married. Something small and intimate, with only the people

who mattered most. For now though, things were good. Really good. “Your

sisters are going to kill you for excluding them.”

Joe grinned wickedly. “Probably. They think the bash on Saturday

is for Adam’s birthday. Even Ma’s managed to keep the secret.” His gaze

turned thoughtful as he studied Peter. “You look happy,” he observed.

“I am.” Their eyes locked and he recalled fondly the brief moment

they had shared a decade ago.

“I’m glad. No regrets?” Joe asked.

Peter automatically searched for Louie. As if he felt the weight of

the stare, Louie turned his head and smiled back. Peter’s heart fluttered.

“None,” he replied. “Absolutely none.”

He’s approaching forty, alone, and in a dead-end job. Eric Somers’s

life has been defined by a single unfortunate decision made decades ago,

when he turned his back on shy outcast Jake Lockwood, afraid of his

feelings for the boy and what they meant. The tragic consequences of

Jake’s isolation have haunted Eric ever since. Now, through a magical