That damn exhaust growl that can only belong tooneperson. Gio. I smirk without meaning to.
Noah moans. "I'm shitting myself. That fucking engine. That fucking man. Your boyfriend is a walking violation, Rava."
I side-eye him. "He'snotmy boyfriend, but holy damn, back off, dude." He cracks up. And then we turn the corner, the car is already waiting.
Lorenzo is outside the passenger door, bottle of tequila in one hand, moving to the rhythm of 'XOXO' by Rvfv, which blasts through the car speakers.
His white shirt is open, hair messy. Noah stops walking.
Stares.
Then slowly raises his own tequila bottle.
Lorenzo looks up. Eyes lock.
He looks at his own bottle again. And then they both explode, laughing, cursing in every language they know.
"YOU'RE SHITTING ME!" Noah yells.
"TEQUILA TWINS, BABY!" Lorenzo screams back.
"FINALLY I DON'T HAVE TO BE THE DAMN THIRD WHEEL FOR THESE TWO SEXUAL FREAKS!"
From inside the car, Gio leans out the driver's window. "It's actually an honor, Lorenzo. Now shut the fuck up and get in."
We pile in. Lorenzo and Noah take the back, bottles clinking and already talking over each other. Noah leans forward toward Gio. "Okay, real question, what's under that hood? That exhaust is porn. Literal porn. Filthy. Sexy. I'm in love. What is it?"
Gio turns slightly, lifting an eyebrow.
"Custom. Straight pipe. Did the whole system myself."
Noah lets out a low whistle.
"Damn. Respect. I've got a Lamborghini Huracán EVO back in Toronto. You don't even need music, the car is the soundtrack. It sounds like war."
Gio's head actually turns. Slow. One eyebrow lifts over his sunglasses. "…No shit?"
"No shit." Noah grins wider. "You should hear her redline in a tunnel. Makes people duck."
Gio blinks once, visibly impressed, then clicks his tongue. "Okay. Didn't expect Ravioli to be friends with someone cool."
I twist in my seat immediately, fake offended. "Excuse you?" Gio shrugs, cocky as hell. "Come on. You look like you correct people's grammar in texts."
"First of all, Idocorrect grammar in texts. Because I'm fucking allergic to stupidity and I refuse to let 'there' instead of'their' exist in my inbox. Also, your name probably autocorrects to 'arrested' on half the damn police reports. So shut the hell up."
From the back, Lorenzo leans forward, cackling. "Don't mind them," he whispers to Noah.
"This is just dirty talk in their language."
Gio rolls his eyes, one hand on the wheel, the other flipping him off. "Everyone shut up. Let's go. If anyone pukes in this car, they're cleaning it with their fucking tongue. If anyone spills tequila, I'm leaving them on the side of the road."
Lorenzo grins and reaches forward, dragging two fingers along Gio's neck with zero shame. "Okay, daddy."
He blows him a kiss.
Noah looks at Lorenzo. "Did I just witness an Alabama plot twist in real time?"
I laugh so hard I almost choke.
