Page 41 of Out of Control

“Thanks.” I blink back the tears that threaten. “So, enough about me,” I say through a laugh. “We’re going out to celebrate Maddix tonight.” I lift my hands and do a little dance in my seat. “So let’s stop the serious talk and get this party started.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Maddix says and then squeals as Cruz presses down the throttle.

• • •

The club is packed. People mill about everywhere and anywhere but Cruz rented out the entire top floor that peers down on the rest of the club. Our floor is flowing with friends, industry people, and racers alike, all welcoming being back at home and with a weekend off.

Balloons and décor placed throughout the space are an added flair for Maddix’s birthday.

The music is good, the drinks are nonstop, and I feel the stress over the gallery dissipating bit by bit. Song by song. Laugh by laugh.

And something I never expected is that the sight of my brother completely enamored with his fiancée makes me happier than anything. I know he loves her but watching a man, who used to be so egotistical, dote on someone else, want the world for someone else, makes me forget his asshole-ish behavior from the last race and believe that love really can make someone change for the better.

“A toast,” Cruz says, raising his glass as the music in our section lowers. “A big thank you to all of our friends for being here tonight to help me celebrate the birthday of the best thing that’s ever happened to me—Maddix.” A cheer goes up along with the glasses in a toast as Maddix leans over and presses a kiss to my brother’s lips. “Isn’t she the fucking best? And a quick congrats to my little sister on her new gallery.” He points to me, and I stare at him with doe eyes. I wasn’t exactly telling people about this yet. “It’s a big leap and I hope you all go there when it opens and buy the shit out of her stuff.”

Another cheer goes up and I’m patted on the back. The well wishes barely register through the shock, but I guess if anyone should know what I’m doing it’s these people here—the who’s who of Monaco.

“You promised me a dance, Navarro,” Lucas Chamalet says as he drapes his arm over my shoulders. A notorious playboy among those in our circle, he’s more puppy dog than pit bull and completely harmless. To the rare few who know him like I do, his fluid sexuality makes him a fun man to hang and flirt with without the fear of leading him on.

“A dance? With you?” I tease, pressing a kiss to his cheek and snuggling up against his side. “Why would I ruin my good reputation for something like that?”

“Girl,” he says, twirling me out and then back against him so he can grind up against me. “I’ll make your reputation.”

We both laugh as I spin around and he pulls me back against him, so that my back is to his front. His hands hold my hips as I lift my arms over my head and sway to the music.

I open my eyes and am pinned motionless by a pair of amber ones from across the room. Rossi. He lifts his eyebrows and holds his own glass up, but the glare he’s giving me is anything but amused.

More like predatory.

And it’s a total turn-on.

What’s he doing here?

My heart beats an erratic staccato and adrenaline begins to race through my veins. I feel like I’m in trouble when I’ve done nothing wrong, and the look he levels me with is enough to replay in my mind every slow, sensual moment of our one night together.

It’s another man’s hands on my body right now, but it’s Rossi’s I’m thinking of. It’s Rossi’s I still want.

And now with those eyes bearing down on me and some liquid courage, I don’t break our stare this time. I don’t pretend I don’t see him. Rather, I pin him motionless with his lips on a bottle of beer and his face in the shadows.

We’re in a room full of our peers, full of eyes, but it’s only each other we see.

“Who are we dancing for?” Lucas asks in my ear, clearly sensing something is suddenly different.

“No one.”

“You are so full of shit, Sofia, but so long as I’m not going to get my ass knocked out, I’ll keep playing.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I say as we keep dancing.

And Rossi keeps watching. Much like he did at the music festival but this time around we’re not Simply Sofia and Just Ollie.

This time the world is watching.

And hell if it doesn’t make the pull to him—the forbidden—that much stronger and more intense.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Sofia