“I am.” Frankie sounded contrite. “And I want to have faith that it’ll all work out in the end, but you have to admit things are moving pretty fast.”
“If you count the years neither of us admitted to the other what we felt, we’re actually moving at a snail’s pace,” Freddie pointed out. I glanced over my shoulder and chuckled at Frankie’s stunned expression. “Both of us were keeping secrets when we were kids. If either of us had the balls to be honest, maybe everything would’ve turned out differently.”
“But then you wouldn’t have Sophia, so I’d say life turned out exactly as it was supposed to,” I interrupted, more to get his mind on something more positive than anything else.
Traffic was surprisingly light on the way to the train station, and before the brothers could get into it again, Freddie pulled up in front of the doors. Frankie beat both of us to the trunk and pulled out our suitcases. He gave his brother a tight hug, whispering something I couldn’t make out, then turned to me.
“Take care of him,” Frankie warned me again. Freddie mumbled something about wishing his family trusted him to take care of himself, but we both ignored him. This was my one shot to prove I respected Frankie as the de facto head of the family now that their Papa was gone. “That bitch did a real number on him, but he’s been better since you’ve been around. That tells me you’re a good guy and I’m willing to trust both of you when you say there’s shit we don’t know about the past. Maybe someday, when you’re ready, you can explain it to the rest of us.”
“In time, I’m sure it will all come out,” I told him. That seemed to be a satisfactory answer and Frankie gave me a quick hug as well. “Thanks for being protective of him. It’s good to know he has a family who gives a damn.”
“You’re part of the family, too,” Frankie reminded me. “You were even before the two of you started shacking up.”
“Thanks. That means a lot.” The boarding call for our train came over the intercom system, so we said one last goodbye before heading in.
13
Freddie
We’d barely pulledout of the station when Peter dozed off, leaving me nothing better to do for a few hours than catch up on a book I’d been dying to read but never found the time for since Peter came to town. He used to tease me mercilessly for my voracious reading habit, but he never realized that’d always been an escape for me. The more anxious I felt, the deeper I fell into the fictional worlds created by others. Between the pages, there were no expectations, there was no Freddie Marino at all. It freed my mind.
Today, I needed to escape the lingering fear that this trip was going to be make or break our relationship. If everything went well, we’d have a future; if not, my return trip alone would become permanent. Peter’s absence in my life was something I couldn’t think about.
I nudged Peter, brushing the long hair away from his face as we neared the station. “Shit, how long was I out?”
“The entire trip.” I laughed when Peter leaned over me to look out the window. “I thought about waking you up, but you were pretty restless last night.”
“Thinking about everything I have to do before the job Monday,” he admitted. “You have to promise you won’t be scared off by me losing my shit repeatedly over the next few days. When I can’t sleep, I’ll move out to the living room so you can rest.”
“Like hell you will,” I protested. I twisted my fingers in his hair, turning him to face me. “I told you I love you and that means all of you. If you ever came into the kitchen on a Sunday morning when we’re getting ready for brunch, you’d realize you’re not the only one who gets a bit psychotic under pressure.”
“Yeah, but with me, a lot of it’s going to seem stupid and superficial.” His cheeks brightened, and he grimaced at his admission. “The Peter everyone knows here isn’t the same guy you’re with. Get a good look at this face, because until I’m back home, it’s probably the last time you’ll see me without makeup other than right before bed. I already made an appointment to get my hair touched up because there’s no way in hell I can walk into that shoot Monday with these roots. And with the way you’ve been feeding me, I’ll be lucky if anything in my closet fits. I’ll probably have to make an emergency shopping trip.”
I did the only thing I could think of to shut Peter up; I pressed my lips to his. It wasn’t even much of a kiss; there was no tongue, no passion, just an intimate point of contact. He groaned and shifted slightly in his seat, so I pulled back.
“I’ve seen you wearing makeup before,” I reminded him. “I happen to think you look sexy as hell when you’re wearing it. And I get that you’re probably going to be wearing more than you do back home but that makes sense because it’s part of your job. As for the hair, I’ve known you most of your life. I know damn well that blond isn’t real. So, when we get to your place, we’ll get settled, you’ll get your hair done, I’ll find a way to fill the time, and that’ll be that. As for the food, there’s not much I can do about that because you’re the one who hooked up with a guy who specializes in pasta dishes, but maybe I’ll try making you something a bit healthier. In the meantime, we’ll go shopping.”
“You hate shopping,” Peter reminded me.
“True, but if it’s what needs to be done, then I’ll suffer through it. It’s not much different from when I have to take Sophia shopping. Shopping is one of the evil necessities in life.”
“If it’s too much for you, you can stay at my place while I run errands. Or you can explore the city on your own. I’m pretty sure you’ll do just fine without a tour guide.”
The train pulled into the station and we stood, waiting for the passengers ahead of us to file off the train. The moment we stepped out of the station, sensory overload became a real problem. Between the skyscrapers closing in around us, the never-ending stream of horns blaring on the road, the smell of exhaust fumes and sweaty commuters, and the raging sea of people racing every which direction without looking up to see who they were about to plow into, it was too much.
Within the first few minutes, I was counting down the hours until it was time to go home. I really hoped the city wasn’t a deal-breaker for Peter because there was no way I visit here more frequently.
When I stepped to the curb, trying to hail a cab, Peter pulled me back “Babe, trust me when I say it’ll be faster if we walk.” He reached for my suitcase and started dragging it behind him before I complained. It was hot, I was tired, and the last thing I wanted to do was walk however far it was to Peter’s apartment.
The further we got from the station, the less congested the sidewalks became and eventually the traffic wasn’t nearly as unbearable. If the entire city was like this with few exceptions, maybe I’d have to revise my earlier disdain.
We stepped up in front of the building and Peter waved at it dramatically. “Well here it is. It’s not nearly as nice as yours but you seriously don’t want to know how much a place that big would cost here.”
I followed him up the steps and waited while he unlocked the front door. I thought that was the end of our trek, but I was proven wrong once again when Peter headed for the staircase. By the time we rounded the third-floor landing, I was about ready to crack. I never considered myself out of shape, but this was brutal. Finally, we reached the fifth floor and Peter unlocked the door to his apartment.
When he swung the door open and ushered me inside I hoped I managed keep my face neutral. I was certain Frankie’s college dorm room had been bigger than this apartment, and Peter had multiple roommates. While he ducked into one of the bedrooms to let his roommates know we were there, I snooped around a bit, gaping at what passed for a kitchen. There was almost no counter space; hell, there wasn’t even a full-size stove. Peter stepped up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and nibbling my ear, probably trying to distract me from what qualified as New York City living.
“I know it’s not much, but it’s been home for a long time. And when you’re trying to make it, you do whatever you have to do to get by.” For some reason, his words gave me pause, and I wondered if there was anything else that he’d done ‘just to get by’. The idea of him doing something like selling his body enraged me so I pushed those thoughts out of my mind. Peter took my hand and led me into his bedroom. There was barely enough room to walk along one side of the bed and you could easily reach into the closet while sitting down on the mattress.
