Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I take a sip of my drink and force my attention back to him. It lasts about two seconds before my eyes drift again.
Valentina is still laughing. Her friend says something and Val swats her arm with the back of her hand, smiling now in a way I haven’t seen nearly enough. It changes her whole face, brightening it. I’ve spent weeks watching her manage rooms, staff, details, pressure, all of it with that controlled competence of hers. Seeing her let go for even a minute is unbearably distracting.
Matteo is still smirking. “You capable of stringing together full sentences, or are you just planning to stare at her all night?”
I glare at him. “You’re in excellent form tonight.”
“I’m always in excellent form.” He lifts his glass. “I’m just saying, she came to a club she knows you own. Maybe your forbidden love isn’t so one-sided.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not in love with her.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Go talk to her. Invite her to the VIP lounge. What could it possibly hurt?”
I set my drink down and stand up.
Matteo’s mouth twitches. “Atta boy!” he whoops.
I ignore him and head out of the lounge before he can get worse.
The floor is thick with people, though the crowd parts easily for me. I’m not sure if it’s because people recognize me, or I’ve just become so good at navigating crowds that I don’t notice the pushback anymore.
Val sees me before I reach her. I know the exact moment because the smile on her face falters. It doesn’t disappear, but it tightens, settling into something more guarded. More aware. Her friend follows her gaze, spots me, and dissolves into full, delighted amusement, one hand over her mouth like she’s trying and failing not to enjoy herself.
I stop in front of them.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” I say.
“Sebastian DeLuca.” Her friend is still visibly trying not to laugh. “What a surprise to run into you. At this club you own.”
Val smacks her arm.
“This is my friend Gia,” she offers. “My very drunk, very annoying friend.”
“A pleasure,” I say, offering her my hand.
She breaks out into another fit of giggles.
“I like him,” she tries to whisper to Val, though she fails miserably at the whispering part.
Val lifts her glass. “Yeah, he’s a real charmer,” she says, dry as bone.
Her eyes flick up to mine. There’s challenge there. Wariness, too.
“Are you enjoying yourselves?” I ask, feeling suddenly, painfully awkward.
Gia answers before Val can. “Very much.”
Val shoots her a look.
Gia grins into her drink.
I look back at Val. “Would you like to dance?”
A simple question. Her lips part slightly. Her gaze flicks to Gia, then back to me.
“No,” she says. Definitive.
“Nonsense!” Gia shouts. “I happen to know that Val loves to dance.”
Val closes her eyes briefly. “Traitor.”
I almost smile. “Just one dance. I don’t think it’ll cause the apocalypse.”
She shakes her head. “It might,” she replies.
Gia makes an exasperated sound. “Oh my God. Just dance with him.”
Then she leans toward me with a conspiratorial expression that would be more effective if Val weren’t standing right there. “She’s been talking about you for weeks.”
“Gia!” Val huffs.
I do smile then. Can’t help it. I hold out my hand. For a second, I think she’s going to refuse again. Then something shifts in her face, something akin to resignation. Whatever it is, she sets her glass on the bar and puts her hand in mine.
Gia claps. “Have fun, you two!”
Val glares at her as I lead her to the dance floor. The crowd folds around us in waves of light and sound. It’s not yet packed enough for bodies to press wall to wall, but it’s getting there. The air feels charged, and the music is so loud it’s inside us. I stop near the middle and turn to face her. She’s tense.
“It’s a dance,” I shout over the music.
“It’s not just a dance,” she shouts back.
I rest one hand at her waist and feel her go even stiffer before the rhythm catches her enough that she has to move with me or stand there like a statue.
“Why not?” I ask.
“You know why.”
Talking becomes impossible, so instead I put my hands on her hips and guide her to the beat. She fits against me easily, grinding like she’s been thinking about this exact moment since the first time we met.
This is why it’s a bad idea, I realize. Because she wants this just as badly as I do. Because if we give in, we’re going to hurt someone we both care about. Nico isn’t here, though. I’m not going to tell him I’m basically dry-humping his sister on the dance floor, and I know she won’t say anything. If Matteo knows what’s good for him, he’ll keep his mouth shut too.
Her fingers tighten on my shoulder, and the atmosphere between us shifts. A line is about to be crossed, and I won’t cross it unless I’m sure she’s crossing it with me.