“They already adore you,” he said, “Especially my mom. I’m pretty sure she’s planning a wedding.”
I let out a breathy laugh, but the emotion stirred under my skin. “I just…I didn’t expect any of this. I thought tonight would feel scary. Big. Like the start of something I couldn’t control.”
“And now?”
I looked up at him. “Now it just feels like life. Yours and mine. Crashing together in the best way.”
He smiled, but something flickered behind it—something quieter, more intense. His hand dropped to my waist, fingers sliding just beneath the hem of my sweater.
“Nicola,” he said softly, “I think I started falling in love with you the first time you told me off at Silverstone.”
I blinked, my heart stuttering.
He stepped closer, his forehead brushing mine. “You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.”
I bit my lip, heart caught between my ribs. And even though I’d practiced the words in my head a thousand times, they still caught on my tongue like velvet.
He kissed me right there under the sun. I felt it in every part of me—my heart already belonged to him.
29
MATTEO
Nicola was humming under her breath—something slow and off-key—as she swiped a makeup brush across her cheekbone in the mirror. My shirt hung open, bowtie dangling from my neck like I’d already given up on it, and I was sprawled on the end of the bed watching her.
Well, more like pretending to watch the news on mute while really just watching her.
“You’re staring,” she said without looking over.
“Of course I am,” I said, grinning, “It’s either you or the recap of Alexander’s sixth win. No offense to him, but you’ve got the better legs.”
She rolled her eyes, biting back a smile. “You’ve seen me put on makeup a thousand times now. You’re going to get bored eventually.”
“Impossible,” I said, “Every version of you is my favorite. Makeup, no makeup, messy bun, just woke up, angry at me for stealing the last towel…”
“You used the towel I hung formyself!”
I held my hands up in mock surrender. “Truce. We’re about to go public. No towel-related scandals tonight.”
She laughed then—really laughed. That soft, bright sound I never got tired of. There was this freeness to her tonight, a softness around the edges I didn’t take for granted. She let her guard down like a drawbridge, piece by piece, and it felt like a goddamn honor every time she let me in.
I reached for the champagne chilling on the side table and opened it with a quietpop, pouring two glasses while she disappeared into the bathroom to change.
“Don’t look!” she called, just as the door shut behind her.
“As if I could ever look away,” I muttered, mostly to myself like the lovesick fool I was.
I adjusted my cufflinks, tugged my collar, and stared at the mirror like it might give me some sort of calm. But all I could think was, ‘This is real.’ This life. Her. Somehow, I’d gone from teasing her at press conferences and arguing over team dinners to watching her get ready on the night we’d show the world we were together.
I hadn’t planned it, not any of it. But if I had, it still wouldn’t have come close to this.
The door creaked open, and she stepped out with her back to me. “Matteo,” she said softly, lifting her hair over one shoulder, “Can you…?”
Then she turned.
And I forgot how to breathe.
The dress was red. Not just red—’stop your heart,set the room on fire’red. Throwing me back to months ago and teasing her for wearing the team’s colors. Little did she know, at the time, it was my favorite color to see on her. By now she had figured that out, the soft knowing smile that reached her eyes, easily told me that. The dress hugged every inch of her like it had been sewn onto her skin, the back dipping low, a trail of tiny buttons leading to the zipper she was asking for help with.
