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"I'm more of a behind-the-scenes kind of guy."
One of the influencers steps forward. “Come on, you’re the boss here. Show us how it’s really done.”
I’m trying to keep my focus on my own live stream, but the conversation in the background keeps distracting me.
And the last thing I want right now is for Enzo to join us.
“You see, guys, youreaaaalllyneed to stomp in there to ensure all the juices are extracted,” I say into my camera.
The grape juice splashes against my clothes.
Another voice comes from behind me, “It’ll be great, Enzo. Just this one time, come on.”
“Alright, fine. If it means so much to you guys…”
My eyes widen when he steps into the stomping pit.
I mask my reaction quickly, not wanting it to be streamed to the entire world.
But the universe seems to have a twisted sense of humor as Enzo chooses the place right next to me to stand.
“I…um…” His closeness is making my brain short-circuit. “The trick is to take your time with it, enjoy the moment.”
Enzo’s gaze flickers over to me, but he looks away as I look his way. He doesn’t say a word to me, and a sense of awkwardness settles over us both.
Having him in close proximity has my mind racing with all the thoughts I’d been working so hard to suppress in the last few days.
Like how annoyingly handsome he looks even with grape juice stains all over his pants.
Or how sexy his arms look when he has his sleeves rolled up like that.
“The final push,” the instructor yells out.
Thank god. The sooner I’m away from him, the better.
Nothing can come out of this, whatever this is, with Enzo. He’s so much older than I am and probably thinks the kiss was a mistake.
A sharp pang hits me at the thought, and I force myself to feign a smile in front of the camera.
“Aaaand we are done,” the instructor announces, causing everyone to erupt in a round of applause.
“Good job, boss!” One of the influencers high-fives Enzo.
I need to get out of here. I turn to exit, but my foot slips on the slick surface of the vat, sending me tumbling down.
Enzo’s hands hold me right before I fall.
Our bodies collide in a brief, fleeting embrace as his hands grip tightly at my sides.
My breath hitches in my throat as I look up at him, the air thick with the same kind of tension that I felt back in that museum when we kissed.
But Enzo takes a step back, releasing me from his grasp.
I can’t tell what’s he thinking, but he doesn’t give me long to figure it out either as he steps out of the vat quickly afterwards.
My face flushes as I turn back to the camera. “Whoops, guys. I guess it gets a bit slippery here. So glad I ended up not falling.”
The double meaning of my own words is not lost on me.