Pizza for Thanksgiving Page 3
Whatever it was, Mack could eat it right now. "As far as I'm concerned, you can stop right there."
"Forget the turkey, you mean?" Enzo said, appalled. "Are you trying to sabotage my dinner?"
"Or do it your way," Mack said with a laugh.
*
As Mack helped him cook, Enzo noticed that he was more cheerful than he had ever seen him. He was still reserved, but he did laugh a few times – at Enzo, of course. So far, things were going OK. Enzo was worried about how the dinner would turn out, but he and Mack were getting along better than he expected.
Not that it was exactly comfortable. There was a push and pull of tension. That wasn't anything new. Ever since he moved in, Enzo had been a little ill at ease around Mack. He was so attractive and yet so intense. Enzo couldn't help but indulge in a few fantasies. Mack stalked through his dreams, barged into his bedroom and took him with no mercy.
Then the next time he saw Mack, Enzo would blush remembering what he made him do. He couldn't look Mack in the eye without his fantasies coming back to him. Good thing they didn't have much to do with each other. That way Enzo didn't have an opportunity to give himself away. It was harmless anyway even if Mack was straight.
But that was before Enzo impulsively invited Mack to Thanksgiving dinner. Ever since he made that invitation, his fantasies kicked into high gear. Mack's rejection didn't slow down his overactive imagination or his hand on his cock. How did staying away from a guy turn into obsessing over him? Then out of the blue, Mack accepted and Enzo was a nervous wreck.
Now that dinner preparations were under way, Enzo hoped he would be too busy to even notice Mack. Yeah, right. He was going to ignore a gorgeous guy while he was right next to him. Considering that things were kind of hectic, he hadn't counted on what being so close to Mack would be doing to his body and his mind.
He had trouble concentrating and remembering what came next. At every step, he had to recheck the recipes. The heat from cooking plus even more heat being generated by being near Mack, it was all too much.
In the small kitchen, they were practically pressed up against each other. OK, they weren't pressed up against each other. That was just in Enzo's mind. But that was bad enough. Enzo was tense about dinner and tense in a completely different way about Mack.
Actually that tension was kind of nice. It was a rush, something Enzo hadn't felt... ever. Not like this. Not this strong. Mack was the kind of guy he could just dive into. Get lost in. Like you would in the ocean or a huge forest. He seemed immense. Enzo got a thrill just being around him.
His big body crowded the small space the way it might crowd Enzo's narrow bed. With no room left, he would give Enzo no choice but to crowd him right back and snuggle up tight to every muscle. Oh, crap, that was not something he should be thinking about when only inches away from a short-tempered, straight guy. Mack was in a pretty good mood at the moment, but he wouldn't be if he knew what Enzo was thinking about him.
But ever since he invited Mack to have dinner with him, Enzo had been having crazy thoughts like that. His fantasies were more intimate and vivid than ever. What happened to the smart, cautious Enzo who knew to stay out of this guy's way? He made an uncharacteristically bold move and now look at him. Trapped. He couldn't stay out of Mack's way here. All he could hope to do was keep his thoughts halfway decent.
Chapter 4
While Mack was still trying to come to terms with spending Thanksgiving with Enzo, he tried to make himself useful in the kitchen. Enzo was busy cooking the stuffing and grumbling to himself. Just when Mack was about to ask him if anything was wrong, they heard a knock on the door. Mack went and opened the door to find Dave standing there.
As he let him in, Mack said, "I thought you were on your way to your parents'."
"I had a fight with Kate. She ditched me. You want to drive down with me?" Dave asked.
"Dave, even if you forgot what I told you about having plans, don't you smell this? Enzo is cooking," Mack told him.
"Hi, Mack's roomie," Dave said as he came in and saw him through the serving window that opened to the living room. "I guess it doesn't smell too bad in here."
"Thanks?" Enzo said then he turned to Mack. "If you want to change your plans, it's fine. I can..."
"What? Stick my turkey in the freezer?" Mack asked.
"I'm not sure it would fit," Enzo said frowning at the narrow freezer door. "I can keep it in the fridge."
"I was kidding. You promised me a homemade Thanksgiving dinner," Mack reminded him.
"I'm not backing out. But you can if you want," Enzo said, still trying to let him off the hook.
Mack shook his head at him. "Dave can drive down on his own."
"I guess I can if I have to," Dave said. He threw a glare at Enzo like it was his fault.
Seeing that Dave was determined to hijack his only dinner guest, Enzo said he wanted to send a few "Happy Thanksgiving" texts. He turned off the burner and went to his room.
Left alone with Dave, Mack followed him as he went into the kitchen. He poked around, inspecting what Enzo had going on in there so far.
Not impressed, he turned to Mack. "OK. This is your chance. Let's get out of here. What I'm seeing in this kitchen has 'It's the thought that counts' written all over it."
Actually Mack thought things were shaping up pretty well in the kitchen and smelling even better.
"Dave, you should get going. You have a lot of solo driving to do," Mack told him.
"Exactly why you should be coming with me."
"I have plans," Mack said pointing all around the kitchen.
"I'd understand if you were ditching me for a girl. Dude, did you lose a bet or what?" Dave asked, still trying to figure out the appeal of a dinner with a guy.
Mack could have supplied the one missing piece of information that would have cleared it up for him, but he didn't. He just muscled Dave to the door.
Dave got to be his friend by being off the charts obnoxious about it, so it was no surprise that he was so bullheaded about getting him to go along with him to his parents' house. That strategy wasn't going to work this time.
"Dude, I'm trying to save you," Dave protested.
"I don't need saving. I'm not a hostage here. I'm the one who bought the turkey," Mack told him as he opened the door.
"Smells like a hostage situation to me."
"Smells like stuffing with sausage."
"Ooh, that's the good one."
"Yes, it is. Now get out of here and thanks for the invite. I appreciate it," Mack said and got him out the door with a few gentle shoves.
Mack had only just closed the door in Dave's face when Enzo came out of his room. Once again, he tried to encourage Mack to abandon him.
"It really is OK if you want to go with Dave. I barely started. And I'm not sure I'm doing this right anyway," he said as he poked at the stuffing with a wooden spoon.
"Where do you get this idea that I'm going to change my mind at the drop of a hat? We're already making this dinner," Mack said to him.
"You did refuse and then you changed your mind," Enzo recapped for him. "You could change your mind again."
"Don't make me sound like a flake. I'm a man of my word. My mind is made up. Let's cook this bird," Mack said. He took a strong, decisive stance and got ready to do whatever Enzo told him to.
After all that, he wasn't sure why he was so determined to stick it out with Enzo except he told him he would. In general he did believe in honoring his commitments. Plus the way Enzo was trying to let him off the hook only made him want to say no to Dave even more. He didn't need Dave or anyone taking it easy on him, feeling sorry for him, rescuing him or any of that crap. So the same thing that made him refuse Enzo's invitation before he came to his senses was now making him stick to him like glue.
"Sorry. You would probably have more fun with your friend," Enzo said as he charged him with peeling sweet potatoes.
"And his whole family? I don't think so. I wouldn't be comfortable a
t someone else's family dinner." Mack shuddered at the thought of being a stranger at a table full of family.
"What's the deal with your family then? I mean you don't have to tell me..."
"No, I don't." Mack didn't mean to snap, but he hated talking about that crap. All it did was make people feel sorry for him. He gritted his teeth and gave Enzo the short version. "I got shuffled around foster homes and group homes until I got kicked out of the system at eighteen. Now I'm on my own."
"I'm sorry," Enzo said.
It wasn't Mack's favorite thing to hear. "You don't need to start playing the violin and kicking off a charity drive. I can take care of myself."
Enzo stared at him for a moment then nodded. "So that's the tripwire I got snagged on when I invited you to spend Thanksgiving with me."
"I guess," Mack said. He really didn't want to get into all that, but he also didn't want to be a dick about it. "I'm so used to being a total shit, and protecting myself from everyone at every minute. Sometimes I don't know how to switch gears. Sorry."
He didn't like to tell people how he grew up. There was too much baggage that went along with the bare facts. Already he was tempted to tell Enzo too much. He had the kindest eyes of anyone he had ever met. That didn't mean that he should know his whole life story.
This was probably the longest the two of them had spent in the same room. Partly it was because they both had work and classes and also because they wanted to stay out of each other's way. Until now all they shared was a tiny apartment, a cramped kitchen with no dishwasher, the old chipped countertop, linoleum on the floor, and the beige porcelain sink, which was all scratched up. Now they were cooking together.
There was more to it than that though. Occasionally their elbows brushed. Sometimes Enzo nudged him out of the way. When Enzo mumbled to himself, Mack leaned closer to be able to hear, like he was going to tell him some secret in the middle of cooking. Then Enzo turned his eyes to him and Mack felt like everything just stopped.
Biting his lower lip in concentration, Enzo was so very serious about what he was doing that Mack couldn't help but smile. Watching Enzo's long fingers at work was kind of hypnotizing. When it came to slicing and dicing, what Enzo lacked in speed, he made up for in precision. Mack half expected him to take out a ruler.
Overall dinner preparations weren't moving along very fast. Enzo spent a lot of time looking at recipes, double-checking things. That worried Mack a little. Other than guessing by the noises Enzo made, Mack had no idea if things were going well or not.
Cooking with someone was a new experience for him. It was kind of fun. Enzo was so uptight about it though, maybe because he was worried about messing up. Mack hoped that he wasn't the one making him anxious about dinner.
"You shouldn't worry about messing up. Something is bound to be edible," Mack told him.
His words of comfort didn't have the right effect. "What do you mean something? What do you mean edible?" Enzo said, his voice rising. "I don't want to have a few edible scraps. I want everything to be good."
"You're an overachiever, aren't you?" Mack said seeing how worked up he was getting.
"Maybe," Enzo said sheepishly.
"But I'm here to keep you from taking it all on yourself, remember?"
"It is more fun cooking with someone," Enzo said tentatively.
"I was just thinking that."
"No way!" Enzo said, surprised.
"What? You don't believe it when I say it?" Mack asked.
"It's not as believable," Enzo said, shaking his head. "Maybe if I was a girl."
"What good would that do me?"
Enzo stopped cutting up the sweet potato Mack had peeled and tried again. "A hot girl?"
"Not any kind of girl. I'm gay," Mack said. And there he was, his first time coming out to anyone, ever. His face heated, his heart raced and he felt kind of giddy. All around, not a bad feeling.
"You are not!" Enzo said, shocked but also smiling at Mack.
"Are you going to believe anything I say?"
"Did you know I was gay?"
"I wasn't sure until recently."
Enzo narrowed his eyes at him. "You mean you didn't care. If I was some hot jock, you wouldn't sit there and shrug it off. You wouldn't rest until you knew for sure." He raised his chin as he hit Mack with that accusing stare.
"Not true. I just don't like to pry. And don't assume you know my type." Mack looked him up and down. Enzo was more his type than any jock. He was cute and slim with light brown hair that Mack kind of wanted to get his hands on. It looked silky, but the only way to know for sure was to feel it for himself. The same thing went for every part of him, especially his pert ass.
Enzo didn't seem to notice the ogling. He shook his head. "I still can't get over you being gay. I thought you refused my invitation to dinner because you thought I was trying to date you or something. All this time I was worried you might be homophobic."
"People can be both," Mack said as some ugly memories flashed through his head – guys who wanted him and despised him at the same time. It didn't stop them from fucking his brains out. Seeing the questioning look Enzo was giving him, Mack told him, "I've had to deal with a few."
"I'm sorry. I guess you had it rough. That's why you're not out."
"I wasn't planning to stay in the closet. I figured once I got to college, I would come out. But I don't like sharing. I don't have anyone to come out to anyway."
Enzo didn't let that pass. "Your friend Dave thinks you're straight," he pointed out. "I overheard him talking to you about getting a girlfriend. You could have corrected him."
He was right about that. Mack didn't have an excuse other than it was a bad habit he had picked up. "I got used to going along with things like that. That's what I've always done. When people assume I'm straight, I let them. It's safer."
"Safer?"
"Has being gay been a smooth ride for you?" Mack asked him pointedly.
Enzo grew thoughtful as he got back to cutting the sweet potatoes. "Not really. And I didn't exactly come out to my parents. They found out from someone else. I guess I just wanted to keep hold of whatever was left of my relationship with them, which wasn't much. All my life, I couldn't get along with my dad. Since they found out, my mom and dad don't want to have anything to do with me."
"That's why you're having Thanksgiving with me," Mack realized.
"Yeah. I'm hard up," Enzo said and grinned at him.
Mack smiled back, but then he cleared his throat. "What are we doing about lunch?"
Enzo gave him an "are you crazy?" look. "Mack, we have to eat a whole turkey between the two of us. We have to leave room. No lunch."
"What a tyrant," Mack complained. The smell of cooking made him even hungrier than before. He was tempted to tell Enzo he hadn't had breakfast, but he didn't want to stress him out more. He could wait. And anyway, other things were starting to preoccupy him.
Shoulder to shoulder, they peeled carrots and potatoes. Mack didn't know it could feel so good to do something so simple as long as you did it with a sweet, attractive guy. He had a feeling that there was no activity that Enzo wouldn't make better.
"You're not bad at this," Enzo told him.
"I did work in a restaurant once."
"Really?" Enzo said, ready to be impressed.
"Washed dishes for two whole days."
"Then you must be naturally talented," Enzo said.
Looking at him, Mack wasn't sure if Enzo was more enticing when he focused on what he was doing or when he turned his eyes on Mack. If Enzo added a smile, Mack had to hold his breath. He only started breathing again when Enzo looked away.
That's when Mack could stare at him and see how he frowned and pressed his lips together like he was mad at the carrots he was peeling. Actually it was more like he was whittling them than peeling them. As bits of carrot peel stuck to his fingers, Enzo flicked them into the sink.
Enzo's hair fell over his eyes and he had to push it away with his forearm. His
dark, bushy eyebrows were furrowed. The line of his jaw had only the barest beginnings of stubble. Soft skin, rough stubble, Mack was dying to run his fingertips over it, his lips, his tongue.
Mack gritted his teeth. He had to get a grip and stop looking at Enzo and noticing every little thing about him. He didn't want to freak him out. Enzo was a nice boy. He might not appreciate Mack's overheated attention.
But instead of helping him out by staying away, Enzo reached in front of him to grab a different knife. He looked at the knife critically then looked at Mack like he wanted to ask him something. Nothing came out. He just stared at Mack.
Being so close to him, Mack felt like he was losing himself. He should have never let him get so close. He was so off balance, like he might tip over and fall into Enzo and drown in his eyes.
Mack stared at him for one heartbeat then another, too long, too damn long. Now he was falling just like he was afraid he would. His hands reached blindly, clumsily. They got caught in Enzo's clothes. One hand found its way up his back to the back of Enzo's neck. Rubbing unconsciously, Mack drew a small moan from his mouth. Going higher, his hand was in Enzo's hair. Feeling it soft under his hand, Mack watched his eyes flutter closed.
Chapter 5
Chest heaving, Mack was standing too close, or was Enzo standing to close to him. He could feel the heat of Mack's body, and the kitchen was already too warm from cooking. Then Mack was touching him. His face heated under Mack's intense gaze and his eyes fell closed. Mack's hands were gentle but shaking then strong and pulling him hard against his body. Enzo felt like he might burst into flames.
His whole body vibrated against Mack's. Their mouths were inches apart, one breath away from contact. But it might as well be miles away if one of them didn't move and break this terrible tension. Enzo's lips were parted, waiting, silently begging, "Please" but not daring to speak.
Mack barely moved and his mouth was on Enzo's. That "Please" turned into a silent "Thank you". Mack's mouth was heat and passion, and Enzo tried to eat him alive. Enzo's arms were tight around his neck. One of his legs was hooked around the back of Mack's like he wanted to climb him or keep him prisoner. In their blind need, they knocked something into the sink and they stopped, startled. Drawing back, they stared at each other.