Sam rolls his eyes. “Let go of him,” he grumbles. “He’s got somewhere he needs to be.” His head tilts, his eyes telling me to start confessing some truths.

Luigi’s place is the kind of restaurant London is short of. Traditional, authentic, and cozy. It’s been here forever and will be here forevermore. The moment he spots me, his face lights up, but I can see the questions in his eyes when he notices Ava’s hand in mine. In all the times I’ve eaten here, I’ve never been with a woman. Not even Sarah. It’s always with the boys.

He weaves through the tables and greets me in his usually happy way, shaking my hand.

“Luigi, good to see you too.”

“Come, come.” He guides us to a table for two at the back, and I make the introductions, killing his curiosity. “Ah, a beautiful name for a beautiful lady, yes?” he says, and I mentally agree as we take our seats. “What would Sir Jesse like?”

I’d like to eat fast and leave. “May I?” I ask Ava, reaching for my gentlemanly manners.

“You usually do,” she quips sarcastically, and I throw her a playful, warning look. Yes, I do, and I’m glad she accepts that.

“Okay, Luigi,” I say, ready to reel off our order fast, hoping he’ll take it fast, have it cooked fast, served fast, and cleared fast once we’re done. My dick is aching like fuck. “We’ll have two of the fettuccine, with yellow squash, parmesan, and lemon cream sauce, a bottle of the Famiglia Anselma Barolo 2000, and some water.” It all rolls off my tongue automatically, and I frown to myself as Luigi writes it down. Wine? I don’t drink anymore.

“Yes, yes, Sir Jesse.”

I’m about to cancel the wine but Luigi backs away, and I quickly reason with my intention. She can have a glass. She’ll think it’s odd if I don’t order wine. Besides, she’s with me.

“Thank you, Luigi.”

Ava gazes around the space as I admire her across the table. “You come here often?” she says, and I crack a smile.

“Are you trying to chat me up?”

“Of course.”

She eyes me as I shuffle in my seat. She knows what’s going on down below. Talk. “Mario, the head barman at The Manor, insisted I try it, so I did. Luigi’s his brother.”

“Luigi and Mario?” She laughs, and I watch, happy but stumped. “I’m sorry, that really tickled me.”

“I can see that.” I accept the drinks when Luigi returns, filling Ava’s glass halfway and pouring some water into my own. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten Italian without my favorite wine, and oddly, I’m not the least bit bothered.

Ava looks from her wine to the water. “You didn’t get a whole bottle for me? Are you not having any?”