Hiding.
I’m the happy sister, the one who's always smiling around everyone, even when I’m not feeling my best – especially when I’m not feeling my best. It’s hard to be anything but that when you spend your entire life trying to be likable. To be noticed.
“It’s a little chilly so I went inside for a while,” I tell Sofia, turning to look back at the beautiful garden, one my sister has worked hard on since she and Matteo bought the home a few weeks ago. “It was so nice of you to open up your garden for Elena and Roarke’s wedding party, Sofia.”
“Elena deserves this after everything she went through with Dad.”
I nod, recalling the horror I felt when Elena opened up about how close she'd been to losing her life to the man she’d been promised to. All thanks to our father’s greed for power and money. I’m grateful Matteo stopped him. Who knows what Father would have tried with the rest of us?.
“Come with me, I know what will help with the chill,” Sofia says, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from my hiding spot.
“W-what are you doing? Sofia?”
“Let’s dance,” she says, pulling me to the dance floor as the music turns upbeat. Others join in as well. "When do we ever get to celebrate like this?"
“A lot actually,” I chuckle, letting myself be pulled onto the dance floor. "We've already had four weddings between you and Elena.”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue my words. Her first wedding was a formality, and I was worried about her marrying into a crime family. But then, she fell in love with her husband, and they had another wedding on a private island, surrounded only by close family.
And just when we thought everything was finally settled, Elena got married, then kidnapped, while Sofia and Matteo were still on their honeymoon. Then I left our parents’ house for good—walked out by choice because I refused to stay under their roof after what they’d done. Matteo and Sofia offered to let me live with them, but I wanted to be independent. I moved into a small apartment with other girls from my dance company.
“Stop, I can see your mind running. You’re banned from thinking about the past,” Sofia scolds, reading me clearly. “It’s gone. It’s over, and we’re fine now. Tonight, we dance!”
I laugh when I find myself spun around, following her advice to tune out the past. We giggle like schoolgirls and dance around until the music changes. Sofia moves to dance with her husband, and I consider leaving the dance floor when a hand bands around my waist and pulls me against a solid chest. I gasp, looking up to find hazel eyes staring at me—the most intense ones I've ever seen.
Dante Rossi.
The laughter in my eyes dies and I find myself blushing, my cheeks turning beet red and heat climbing not just my neck and face but at the secret spot between my legs that lights up whenever those hazel eyes find mine.
“Oh, hi,” I say shyly. “W-what are you doing here?”
“Wedding. Party. Remember? I was invited,” he says, flashing me a smile that sends my heart racing. There is something undeniably charming about Dante Rossi. At first, I thought the attraction I felt was mutual—after Sofia’s wedding, a part of me hoped something could develop from our friendship. But we’ve spent so much time together now, and he’s never made a move. We’re best friends. He treats me like a sister, nothing more.
It didn’t stop me from harboring a little crush though.
Christ, I would never hear the end of it if my sisters found out that the feelings I have for Dante Rossi are far from platonic.
“I didn’t think you were going to show tonight, I thought you had work,” I tell him, biting my lip to stop a moan when his hand slides up my back.
“I told you I could fly from New York to LA, close the deal and get back in time for the party,” he says, spinning me around on the dance floor before pulling me back firmly against his chest. “You should know better by now than to doubt my skill.”
I blush as my mind wanders to what other things he might be good at. “Well, I…”
My words trail off as the music cuts off and someone taps the microphone, pulling everyone’s attention to the small raised platform. My brows wing up when I spot Elena grinning down at us with her white bouquet in hand. Something about her smile drops my guard a little, and I can't help but mirror it. Elena isn't one to wear her heart on her sleeve, and seeing her so unguarded and open, so obviously in love, sends my heart clenching with affection.
“I would like to ask the gentlemen to clear the dance floor and all the single ladies to stay behind," she beams down at us, waving her flower bouquet. “I think it’s time to see who will be next to find their happily ever after.”
Laughter follows her words, and the men start shuffling away. I bite down a shiver when Dante leans in, his mouth brushing my ear as he whispers, “Save me your next dance, will you?”
You’re just friends. You are just good friends. Best friends but friends nonetheless.
“Yeah, sure,” I whisper, biting my lip to stop myself from blurting something mortifying. Christ, I need to remind myself that Dante Rossi, older, charming, and attractive as he is, is not mine for the taking. “I’ll… um, wait right here. On this spot. I won’t move an inch.”
God!
He smirks, that lopsided grin that always makes those hazel eyes turn a molten gold, sparkling with secrets. In the months we've been friends, I've learned his tells. His eyes sparkle like sunlight on a forest floor when he's happy, and on the rare occasion he's angry, they seem to darken to a stormy brown with those hazel flecks almost vanishing completely.
I can’t help but wonder what happens when he's aroused and whether I might ever get to see it.
