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And suddenly I'm very aware of how close he is, of how good he smells.

Damiano looks down at me and smiles.

“I heard you singing this song Sunday night.”

I freeze. “What?”

“You were taking out the trash.”

My mouth falls open as the memory comes rushing back. Sunday night. My headphones, singing at the top of my lungs because I was absolutely convinced nobody could hear me.

Oh God.

His smile grows. “You were looking at the stars and singing like you thought nobody was watching.”

Of course I thought nobody was watching.

“Oh my God.” I close my eyes, wishing I could disappear right here in the middle of the park.

“That's exactly what I said when I first saw you.”

My eyes fly open.

He looks so pleased with himself that I groan and bury my face in his shoulder. “Please stop talking.”

His chest moves beneath my cheek when he laughs. “No.”

I can't help laughing too, even though I'm still completely mortified. When I finally look up at him, his face is so close to mine that my smile slowly fades.

“Why were you watching me?”

His expression softens, all teasing gone. “You looked happy, like you were living in a different dimension and not taking out trash.”

The words hit me harder than they should.

“And as I watched you sing to the stars...” His eyes lock onto mine. “I knew I wanted to dance to that song with you someday.”

Oh, he’s good. I’ve read a thousand books, but no male character has ever made my breath catch and my heart explode like he does right now.

I want to say something similar, compliment him too…but I can’t do anything except stare at him.

The song continues around us and Damiano gently spins me beneath the oak tree.

When the music ends, neither of us moves.

The hand holding mine runs up my arm until it cups my face, while his other arm tightens around my waist and pulls me even closer.

His blue eyes search mine as if he's trying to memorize something.

“Eleonora?” His voice is rough.

“Yes?”

For a second, he just looks at me, and when his gaze finally drops to my mouth, every part of me seems to become aware of what’s about to happen.

He doesn't rush. He doesn't move closer right away, almost like he's giving me time to stop him, but stopping him is the last thing I want.

The world around us slowly fades until I don't hear the people in the park anymore or the music still playing from his phone. There’s only Damiano standing in front of me, his arm around my waist and his warm fingers brushing softly against my cheek.