Chapter 20

“Swear he should’ve been the poufter, not you.”

“Angelo? Please. He’s been boob-obsessed since he was six.”

“That late?”

Luca sniggered as he dried his hands off, and allowed Antonio to swing an arm around his neck and yank him in sideways for a brief hug. Antonio was right, even if Luca didn’t have to like it. He’d scared people with the accident, and even if Luca felt fine, he suspected it’d take until his face stopped looking like tarmac for other people to chill out.

“Wanna stop on the way home? You might be still in blazer and tie five days a week, but some of us are legal.”

“Not if you’re going to make me drink fucking pop,” Luca grumbled. “I’m not ten, you know. Even Mamma lets me have alcohol at the table.”

“Yeah, at Christmas,” Antonio teased. “Nah, pint of lager, packet of crisps, game of pool at The Psalter? Mamma’s not home for another hour yet anyway, and then you’ll be in her clutches all evening, face like that.”