“Not now,” I replied, attempting to continue forward.
She stepped directly into my path. “I only need a second. Malcolm and I were thinking of having the room to ourselves tonight.” She glanced back to where Malcolm waited nearby. “Would you mind sleeping on the couch? Or…” She paused, hereyes deliberately tracking to where Brooke danced with Mario. “Or finding somewhere else to crash?”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Did you coordinate this with Emmett?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replied, not even attempting to look innocent. “But you could always ask Brooke if she has space. I’m sure her roommate wouldn’t mind.”
“You’re her roommate,” I pointed out.
“Right.” She grinned. “And I wouldn’t mind.”
I shook my head, but couldn’t fight the corner of my mouth lifting. “Subtle.”
“Never claimed to be.” She squeezed my arm once before releasing me. “Go get her, Rav.”
With the final obstacle removed, I continued through the mass of bodies. Mario had dipped Brooke dramatically, bringing her up with ease. Her laughter transformed her face, and somehow it made her even more beautiful.
For a split second, doubt crept in. She was enjoying herself. Maybe I should let her continue with Mario. Maybe a man like that could make her happy. But then her eyes found mine across the dance floor, and the laughter faded into something more intense—a silent invitation.
That was all I needed.
I barged through the remaining dancers until I reached them. “Mind if I cut in?”
Mario turned, his face lighting up. “Ah! Rav! How could I refuse?” He stepped back with an exaggerated bow and yelled at the top of his lungs. “Though you are stealing the loveliest dance partner in all of Napoli!”
The flush on Brooke’s cheeks deepened. “Mario’s being generous. I’m a terrible dancer.”
“Then we’ll be terrible together,” I said, taking her hand. “I don’t dance.”
Mario laughed, slapping my shoulder. “Everyone dances at La Fiamma! Even serious men like you, my friend. Now if you’ll excuse me…” He winked at Brooke. “There’s a beautiful redhead at the bar who has been watching me all night.”
With another flourish, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving Brooke and me standing awkwardly among the dancers.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said, looking up at me. “I know you hate dancing.”
“I don’t hate it,” I replied, resting my hand lightly on her waist. “I’m not trained for it.”
“Then why?—”
“Because I wanted to be near you,” I cut in, done with pretense.
Her eyes widened slightly. I pulled her closer, not giving a damn who saw us, and began moving to the music. It was nothing fancy—just enough to keep us from standing still in the middle of the floor.
“What about our agreement?” she asked, her hands resting lightly on my shoulders.
“Screw the agreement,” I said, pulling her close to talk directly into her ear. “Everyone already knows.”
Her body tightened. “What?”
“Emmett, Scarlett, probably the whole team,” I told her. “Percival grilled me about it when we were in the tunnels.”
I felt her breath catch, but her arms slid around my neck.
“I don’t want to keep pretending,” I continued, my lips brushing her ear now. “I don’t want to hide how I feel about you. Not anymore.”
The music shifted to something slower, more insistent. Around us, couples pressed closer together.
“I want you,” I said simply. “I’ve always wanted you. And I’m done hiding it.”
