The next morning, Ramin finally worked up the nerve to text Noah.
Ramin
How’s Jake doing?
Noah
Better thanks.
He’s out of the hospital. Nonna came to drive us all back.
Ramin
I’m glad!
Can we talk when you get back?
Noah
Absolutely
See you this afternoon?
Ramin
Great!
Ramin stared at his texts. Did he sound weird? How were you supposed to text when you loved someone but hadn’t told them yet, but also didn’t want to stress them out, butalsodidn’t want them to think you didn’t care about how their son was doing?
And was it just him or did Noah sound kind of odd, too?
But whatever. He needed to stop being nervous. He loved Noah. And he thought—well, hoped—Noah loved him, too. That they could figure this thing out.
Meanwhile, his fridge was running low. He grabbed his shoes and headed for the grocery store.
Upon reflection, Ramin probably didn’t need to buy six bottles of wine.
But everything at the store was so cheap, and he kept finding things he wanted to try, more Grignolinos from Piedmont, Verdicchios from Marche, Cesaneses from Lazio. Table wines, to have with dinner, todrink and watch the sunset, to explore the world of Italian wine or maybe—just maybe—to share with Noah.
They couldn’t all be Ornellaia, after all. Ramin would go broke.
He’d just finished putting the groceries away—he might’ve gone overboard on cheeses to try, too—when his phone rang.
He grabbed it, expecting to see Noah’s photo pop up to tell him he’d returned to Milan. Or maybe someone from work, who’d forgotten he was out of the country. Or hell, even another one of those annoyingSPAM RISKcalls.
It wasn’t any of those, though.
It was Todd.
“Hello?”
Todd’s bearded face popped up, though he was a bit patchy at the corners of his mouth. Ramin recognized the collar of one of his neon-blue gym shirts, stained with sweat. Todd must’ve just gotten back from a workout. “Hey, Ramin. How are you?”
The greeting was casual, but his voice sounded conspicuously deeper. Todd used to use that same register while he whispered dirty nothings into Ramin’s ear. What was he doing with it now?
“Uh. Fine. You?”
“I’m good.” He licked his lips. “I’m good.”
