Page 69 of Just A Little Fling

“I’d really appreciate it. I don’t know what you charge for your private jobs, but I’m hoping I can afford a few hours of your time.”

“For you, my new friend, my time is on the house.”

“Are you sure?”

“Consider it a housewarming gift.”

“So I understand the plan: Nico, you’re inviting Levi into your life, yes?” Anders clarified.

“Yes, but we need to figure out what Nico is inviting him to. Nico, what do you like to do?” Jakob added.

“I like to go dancing.”

“Fantastic. Invite him to go out with you,” Jakob instructed

“You mean like on a date?”

“Yes, on a date. If you want him to see that you want him in your life, you have to give him a chance to be in your life. Ask that man out on a date.”

“It’ll be my first date. When I said I limited myself to hookups, I wasn’t joking. My last one ended up consoling me in the restroom while I cried about Babbo. Not the ideal outcome.”

“That might be the saddest thing I have ever heard,” Jakob said solemnly. “It requires cake.”

That suggestion was all it took. We unwrapped ourselves and piled into my tiny kitchen to divvy the cake. Once split, we all returned to the living room to finish our evening of yelling advice atHousewives. Surrounded by the guys, I almost didn’t recognize my life. They treated me like we’d known each other forever and acted like it was a foregone conclusion that I would join them on their outings. It was new and more than a little overwhelming, but I liked it.

I hoped they kept me.

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

NICO

This was not the dinner I imagined.

Copy, or maybe it’d been Paste, had said that it would be a disaster, and they’d jinxed me because this was going to shit fast. I thought heating a Costco meal would be simple enough. The instructions were right there on the package, but somehow, I had managed to overheat it, so I’d taken it out to the driveway so it wouldn’t make my house smell like smoke. At this point, the only thing the fam would eat tonight was the tray of cookies from the bakery Ma would bring. Copy and Paste were going to make jokes for days.

“I’m almost afraid to ask what happened.” Ugh. It seemed unfair that the universe kept allowing this man to see me at my worst.

“I’m supposed to be cooking dinner for my family tonight, but I fucked that up.”

“Language,” Babbo said absently. “What were you trying to make? Did we make that rule?”

“One of those pre-packaged meals, but then I went to check on something, and when I came back, it was smoking and burning. I had to get it outside before the whole place went down in flames. How hard can it be to open a package and heat it up? Apparently, pretty damn hard. And no.”

“Hey, come on, don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s not the end of the world. Do you have something else in the house you could cook? How many people are we talking about? When will they be here?” And then he added, “I think we should add one.”

“No. Six, including me. Thirty minutes. Let’s add it on another night because I think I’m gonna cuss a lot tonight.” I tossed some pebbles that had been kicked up onto the sidewalk. I wanted to dump my burned container somewhere over a fence, but I doubted any of the neighbors would appreciate that. I’d been defeated and pizza delivery was my future.

“Fair point. But, hey, we can fix this. I’ve got food in my house. I can grab it, and it’ll be about ready when they get here.” Babbo raised my chin and forced me to look at him. He kissed my cheek, and I felt better. I hated that it made me feel better, but I refused to examine that right now. I needed to focus on not humiliating myself in front of Copy and Paste. They always had shit to say.

“Are you sure we can make it in time?”

“Yes, because we’re making spaghetti Pomodoro, which is a fancy way of saying tomatoes. I’ve got some diced ones in a can that’ll work fine when we doctor it with fresh basil and garlic. There’s also some French bread in there, and we’ll slice, wrap it in foil, and stick it in the oven. It’ll be crusty and hot by the time they get here. Easy-peasy.”

“Lemon squeezy?” Rather than answer, Babbo stood up from where he’d been crouched next to me and pulled me right behind him.

“Yep, lemon squeezy.” Babbo looked at the scorched pan. If it could be salvaged, it would take a lot of scrubbing. “Do you love this pan?”

“I got it at the thrift store the week I moved in, so no strong feelings one way or the other about it.”

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