He’d kissed Ramin.
Ramin had kissed him back.
Ramin hadtouchedhim.
He wanted to run through the streets. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops! He wanted…
He didn’t know what.
The truth was, though Noah was bisexual, this was still new to him. He’d been with guys before, but both times had played out more or less the same way. A guy who was fascinated by Noah’s size, but didn’t see him as a person beyond what he had in his pants. A one-time thing, no kissing, no chance for Noah to even reciprocate.
He hated that he hadn’t gotten to touch Ramin back. Hated that they’d been interrupted.
But kissing Ramin? That had been magical.
Noah’s lips still burned with the memory of it. He traced them with his fingertips. Were they swollen? They’d kissed hard but they hadn’t been kissing for very long when Jake interrupted them. Had Angela noticed anything while they ate a quick breakfast and ran for the bus?
She hadn’t said anything.
Noah pulled his phone out to see if Ramin had sent anything, but it was dead.
Crap. It must’ve died during the night. His charger was back in Milan, and he hadn’t thought to borrow Ramin’s last night. He’d have to wait till they got back.
At least he’d finally managed to get Ramin’s number yesterday, while they took a break from rolling out ravioli.
When would Ramin get back to Milan? When could Noah see him again?
Did Ramin even want that? Noah thought he did, but maybe he was reading the situation wrong. Maybe he was just projecting his own hopes and wishes. Maybe—
“Dad?”
Noah shook himself. “Yeah, buddy?”
“What does ‘good pasta hands’ mean?”
Noah nearly choked. Ramin’s hands had been good for more than pasta.
“Uh. I think Nonna meant that Ramin was good at making the ravioli.”
“Oh.” Jake frowned thoughtfully. “How come he has dimples and I don’t?”
“Well, that’s just the way he was born,” Noah said. “Like how you were born with brown eyes.”
“Aw, man.” Jake poked at his cheeks, like he was trying to give himself dimples, though all he really did was make himself look like an evil chipmunk. Noah chuckled and ruffled Jake’s hair.
“Hey!”
“You like Ramin, huh?”
“He’s cool,” Jake said, glancing out the window. But then he looked back at Noah. “Are yousureI can’t get a tattoo yet?”
“Your mom and I are both sure,” Noah said.
Jake sighed. “Ramin said he got another tattoo. He said he couldn’t show me because it was still healing. I bet it’s cool.”
“He didn’t show me either,” Noah said as heat crept up his neck. They hadn’t had the chance, this morning, to really see each other.
“Do you think he’ll show me next time?”
