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I throw my arms around his neck, and he squeezes me so tight as he lifts me up. “Let’s go home.”
* * *
The bar is empty but our hearts are full.
Fairy lights hang over us in the garden’s courtyard. It’s drawing to the end of our perfect night.
I smile up at my handsome dance partner. He was determined to recreate our first date. We’ve been to the exact same bars and danced on the same dancefloors.
The songs are different now, though—not that I remember the originals, to be honest. My brain was high on Enrico Ferrara, and still is.
Although it’s a different kind of high now. The kind that lasts a lifetime.
Out of all the woman in the world, he picked me to fall in love with, and I’m so incredibly grateful that things have worked out the way that they have between us.
He’s sweet, sexy, dominant, caring, and he listens to every damn word that I say.
I smile as I listen to the lyrics of “Lover” by Taylor Swift, and we sway side to side.
“This song is better than the last song you liked,” he tells me.
“What song?” I frown.
“The…” He frowns as he tries to remember the name of it. “The used to being loved song.”
“Huh?” I try to think back.
“Something about used to being someone you loved.”
“Oh.” I smile. “’Someone You Love’ by Lewis Capaldi.”
“The sad song about a girl leaving her man.”
“I remember. Although I think it’s more about death.”
His face falls. “Well, I hope you never get to play it.”
I giggle and rise up on my toes to kiss him. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For being my lover… and becoming my best friend.”
He stops moving. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“What?” I frown. “Why?”
“Anybody can fall in love.” His eyes search mine. “But it takes a lot to be someone’s best friend.”
We begin to sway to the beat again, which, by the way, has now gone down in the history books as my favorite song ever. “Take me home, lover.”
“Maybe we should just get married tonight?”
“Find somewhere and we will.”
He chuckles, steps back, and tugs on my hand. “Don’t tempt me. Home time.”
* * *
