Ramin’s cologne smelled fresh, clean, like lemon verbena and spring rain. Noah wanted to taste his collarbone, but they were in public.
That could come later.
“Hi.” Ramin looked around, then leaned in for a peck on the lips. “You look amazing.”
“You too. I like the way you smell.”
Ramin smiled brighter, though he tugged at the hem of his tank. “Not too much? There’s a stereotype about Persian men and too much cologne.”
“Just right.” Noah cleared his throat. “So. How does Genoa sound?”
“Genoa?” Ramin quirked an eyebrow.
“You said you liked the water.”
“You remembered?” Ramin seemed almost surprised.
“Of course I remembered.”
Noah remembered every moment with Ramin.
“That sounds perfect.”
“Good.” Noah had spent the morning looking up which seaside towns they could get to on a single train ride, and Genoa had been the best option. Plus there would be pesto.
Pesto was the besto.
“I already got us tickets.”
“You did?”
Noah nodded. “The train leaves in forty minutes. Which leaves us just enough time…”
Noah’s heart hammered. This was it. He could do this.
He could do this.
Ramin cocked his head. “Enough time for what?”
Noah ignored the sandpaper in his throat as he leaned closer to whisper in Ramin’s ear.
“See those bathrooms over there?” He nodded to his right, where a bright blue sign saidTOILETSin bold white letters.
“Yeah?”
He fished in his pocket for a one-euro coin and slipped it into Ramin’s hand.
“Why don’t you go in there. Find the last stall.” Noah kept his voice steady, even though it wanted to shake with the hammering of his heart.
Ramin said he’d dreamed about this.
“Get down on your knees.”
Ramin stiffened next to him, drew in a sharp breath.
“And suck my cock.”
thirty-one
