“You arethe most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen,” I tell Luna as we dance together to “Hotel Room Service.”
Actually, I shout it while raising my hands in the air and shaking my ass, because the music is still loud enough to wakethe dead, and because there’s something really satisfying about the chorus to this song.
Also, I’m tipsy.
I tried to avoid anything even resembling vodka, but one of the Andriani cousins—I think it’s Francesca, although with the lights down, telling them apart is getting increasingly difficult with each drink I consume—gave me a delicious rum cocktail that slid down so easily, I snagged myself another. And another.
I’m having the time of my life, despite the glowering mobster who keeps watch from a table in the shadows. And if I shake my ass a little more than necessary, he’s the reason. Hebitme. I still can’t believe it.
“Thank you,” Luna tells me, throwing an arm around me as we dance. “I love you so much, and I’m so glad you’re here with me for this day.”
“Me too.” I sniffle, because I’m getting misty-eyed again.
My bestie is married. Her wedding was perfect. I’m so happy for her, I can hardly stand myself.
We dance ourselves breathless to the rest of the song, and when it’s over, Luna hugs me and I hug her back. A familiar guitar melody starts up, and Priest appears at our side.
“You two can dance together for this one if you want to,” he says diplomatically.
Luna and I crack up laughing, and I disentangle myself. She may be just a tad tipsy too. This is the celebration I wanted for her. Thank God I didn’t ruin it. And neither did psycho mobster, despite all his threats and icy glares. Too bad all that white-hot charm evaporated the second he found out who I really was. But it’s definitely for the best.
I don’t want anything to do with the Mafia. Luna was born into this world, and she can handle it. From the looks of things, she’s got Priest wrapped around her finger anyway.
“I need a break,” I tell them, making ashoomotion with my hands. “Go on and dance, love birds.”
I don’t have to tell them twice. Luna goes into Priest’s arms, and they lock gazes, swaying to “Everything Has Changed.”
I sniffle some more as the lyrics hit me in the feels, and then I decide to go in search of the bar. Maybe one more rum drink before the reception winds down couldn’t hurt. But before I can get to the bar, he’s there. A wall of imposing Mafia muscle.
“Where are you going, Jane?”
I’ve had enough rum to give him my true opinion of his question.
I meet his cold glare. “Fuck you.”
His jaw tightens. “I told you that mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble.”
To my complete amazement, he takes my hand in his and starts tugging me back to the dance floor.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I demand.
“Dancing with you.” He whirls me around, and I land against him, his captive, my palms splayed on his hard chest. “I highly doubt you need another drink from the bar.”
“I wasn’t going to the bar,” I lie.
He doesn’t say anything, just looks down at me with that smug, arrogant expression that makes me want to either kiss him or punch him in the nose. It’s really not fair that he’s so good-looking.
And that he gave me the best orgasms I’ve ever had.
Don’t think about that now, Isla.
Why does he have to smell so delicious? I could lick him from head to toe. Trace his eight-pack with my tongue.
Down, girl. He’s a dick, remember? A criminal. Right.
“Stop looking at me like you want to knee me in the balls,” he growls at me.
I blink. We’re on the periphery of the dance floor, swaying to the music, the lyrics oddly prescient as the melody unwinds around us.
