He still didn’t know where Luca had been for the last twelve hours, what had driven him to come back and stomp around these greenhouses. But Emerson didn’t want to lie with Luca anymore, about anything.
Because hadn’t they been doing that for a long time? Luca propositioning him on the couch that night, acting like sleeping together was simply some altruistic method of helping Emerson relax. And god, it had certainly worked. He had still worked his ass off to make the wedding as successful as it had been. The financial realities of Short King Farms still existed. Emerson still didn’t know what the future held.
But there was that peacefulness in his bones that hadn’t been there before. That feeling that had only grown strongerwith each passing day. That made everything feel easier, made hope easier to reach toward.
Maybe the sex had helped fuel it. But either way, Luca and Emerson had been sleeping together from the beginning because they were two people who wanted to sleep together. Not just because they were attracted to each other. But because they cared about each other.
Somehow, Emerson was pretty sure they had cared about each other since the day they’d met. In a world full of cruelty, such a chance meeting with such a thoroughly good human being felt increasingly like a miracle.
Emerson didn’t think they were lying anymore—that they hadn’t been for a while—but he should make sure.
He should make sure about everything.
“Why did you need space?” he pressed.
Luca remained silent. Until, hugging his elbows protectively against himself, he laughed a little, shaking his head.
“I saw you and Jayden dancing,” he said. “And it made me…I don’t know. Jealous.” He sniffed, craning his neck even farther away from Emerson. “Childish. I know.”
Oh.
Emerson wanted to be the one to hang his head now, to mutterI’m sorry. But he held his tongue. Made himself keep looking at Luca, even if Luca wouldn’t look at him. The way he was holding his body, the stretch of his neck: every tendon taut, every muscle tense again. Emerson’s own body yearned to stride over there and pull Luca’s into his. Even if Luca was so much taller, he could still try. He could still try to cradle him. He could still put his mouth on that neck, kiss that nape until it relaxed.
But what Luca had just said was complicated. Emerson’sheartwas complicated.
And he wasn’t actually sorry for dancing with Jayden.
Dancing with Jayden had been…there weren’t words. Emerson hadn’t known it was something he could even ask for until Jayden had approached him, hand outstretched, hesitant smile on his face: the feeling of Jayden next to him again. Not across the kitchen counter, across the threshold of their front doors during Daisy dropoffs and pickups. Truly next to each other, just the two of them, just Jay and Em again, the feel of his hand in Emerson’s so familiar Emerson would’ve recognized him with his eyes closed. And Emerson had closed his eyes, breathed him in, let the whole night wash over him.
“I love you, Em,” Jayden had said.
“I love you, too, Jay,” Emerson had replied.
And then the song had ended, and not too long afterward, Jayden had gone home. Emerson had stayed here. And it had all been okay. Something inside Emerson felt semi-healed, his spirit lighter than it had been in years, like he’d been waiting for something exactly like that dance, brief and warm and reassuring.
Even if it simultaneously made him miserable, knowing it had hurt Luca.
Emerson should have known. All day, he’d wanted to ask Luca:Is it okay that Jayden’s here?It had echoed in his head over and over, on the tip of his tongue, the whole time they’d stood together, so close, during the wedding ceremony.
But he’d chickened out. Like he always did. Because he was worried Luca would say no. Or lie, and say it was.
And Emerson had wanted, at least for the day, to love them both. For it to just be easy, like he wanted it all to be easy. Without having to ask the hard questions first.
But he was doing this right, starting now.
Slowly, he walked to Luca. Slowly, he brushed his knuckles over Luca’s cheek. Luca tensed his jaw. Glanced at Emerson with the briefest of eye contact before looking away.
“Hey,” Emerson said, voice soft. “Meet me at the old barn in ten minutes?”
Luca swallowed.
“Just give me ten minutes. Okay?”
Without waiting for a response, Emerson dropped his hand and left. As carefully as he could, because the land between here and his house was wild and bumpy as fuck, he raced across his farm. Heaved open the sliding glass door like he was being chased in an action movie. Jumped into his kitchen and grabbed the portable speaker he often took with him when he worked with the animals in the barn; made sure he had his phone. And then he was racing up the hill toward the old barn, rattling open the door, plugging in the lights.
The rental companies Ben and Lex’s wedding coordinator had used had already been here. Almost everything was gone: the tables, the chairs. The caterers had taken away all the heating trays and plates, the DJ booth disassembled and disappeared. But the place was still, frankly, a mess, even with the small progress Emerson had been able to make this morning. Ben and Lex had encouraged everyone to take whatever flowers they wanted at the end of the night, but there were still so many left over, wilted and thrown at the edge of the floor, their vases collected by the florist. There were forest green and rose gold balloons still dotting the ceiling; some drifted all the way up in the hay loft. There was a disturbing amount of gold glitter, well, everywhere. And then there were the random items left by drunken guests Emerson would have to track down later: a silk scarf, a child’s pair of navy suspenders, a single high heel.
Emerson should have asked for more than ten minutes.
