Nicola, sitting on Matteo’s other side, shot him a withering look. “If you make one more joke about me enjoying this, I swear to God, DeLuca?—”
“You’ll fall madly in love with me?” Matteo cut in, waggling his eyebrows.
“No,” she snapped. “I’ll throw you out of the car while it’s moving.”
Alexander laughed quietly beside me, leaning closer so only I could hear him. “How long do you think before they’re fucking? Tonight?”
“Ew, but yeah, by end of season for sure,” I whispered back, trying not to laugh. I had been watching them the whole time I had been here, and no one ever got under Matteo’s skin because most people adored him. Nicola, however, seemed dead set on annoying him at any free moment, and Matteo had never had anyone not like him.
“Hey, what are you two whispering about over there?” Matteo asked, narrowing his eyes at us in the rearview mirror.
“Nothing,” Alexander said smoothly, leaning back in his seat like he didn’t have a care in the world. “Just enjoying the show.”
Matteo huffed, but before he could fire back, the car pulled up in front of the nightclub. The bass from the music inside was already vibrating through the air, and a line of people stretched around the block.
Nicola didn’t wait for anyone else, opening her door and hopping out. “Finally,” she muttered, straightening her jacket as Matteo slid out after her.
I stepped onto the curb, taking a deep breath. The night was electric, the lights of the city glowing around us, and for once, I wasn’t overwhelmed. I wasn’t the nervous, out-of-place mom who didn’t belong here. I wasme, and for the first time in a long time, I felt confident.
Alexander came up beside me, his presence steadying in a way I couldn’t explain. He glanced down at me, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Ready for this?”
I tilted my chin up, matching his smile. “More than ready.”
The four of us headed inside, bypassing the line with ease, thanks to Matteo and Alexander’s names on the list. The music hit me like a wave—loud, pulsing, and alive. I couldn’t stop the smile spreading across my face as we made our way to a booth near the dance floor.
Drinks were ordered, jokes were exchanged, everything felt easy. But as the night wore on, my thoughts kept drifting back to Alexander. The kiss after the race. The way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.
Did it mean anything to him, or was I reading too much into it?
I pushed the thoughts away with a sip of my drink, determined to enjoy myself. When the music shifted to a faster beat, I grabbed Nicola’s hand. “Come on. Let’s dance.”
She hesitated, then nodded, dragging me toward the dance floor. The rhythm of the music took over, and I let it drown out my doubts, my worries, and the stupid flutter in my chest every time Alexander smiled at me.
But even as I danced, I couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on me, every time I glanced over, they met mine.
“You should ask him to dance,” Nicola said, raising a brow.
“Who, Alex?” I asked.
“Yeah, you know, the one you’re eye fucking.”
“Am not!” I yelled.
“Sure, sure. Anyway, I gotta go…do something.” She trailed off, and with an evil smirk, danced away. Alexander was already making his way over to me.
“Hey,” he said over the music.
“Hey.” I smiled and reached out for him, closing my eyes. We danced like that, some part of our bodies connected throughout the next few songs. Each song that passed, we grew closer. Maybe it was the crowd, maybe it was us.
The music pulsed around us, the bass thrumming in time with my heartbeat as Alexander’s hand slid to my waist. My arms looped around his neck, and the world outside the dance floor ceased to exist. It was just us, swaying together, the energy between us crackling like static.
I opened my eyes to find his gaze fixed on me, intense and unwavering. His hand on my waist tightened slightly, pulling me just a fraction closer.
“You’re really something else,” he murmured, his voice low enough that I had to lean in to hear him.
“Is that so?” I teased, my lips quirking into a smile.
He nodded, his expression serious despite the playful tone. “Yeah. I don’t think you realize it, though.”
