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“How about that dance now, baby.” Springing up from the chair, I straightened my blazer. “It’s been great catching up, Sofie. Best of luck with your nuptials.”
I took Giana’s hand and ushered her far from her back-stabbing sister onto the dance floor.
After shaking our asses to a few upbeat songs, I was relieved when the band began playing slow music. I craved an excuse to take Giana in my arms.
Drawing her into my chest, I held her close, our hips swaying to Ed Sheeran’s, Perfect.
Ironically, its lyrics captured how I felt about Giana six years ago and how I’d begun to feel about her now.
Maybe the older gentleman I’d encountered on the plane had a valid point: when life gives you a second chance at love, it’s because you weren’t ready for the first.
The more I thought about it, the more plausible it seemed.
If Giana had moved to California, she would have resented me for giving up her dreams. Likewise, if I had declined the Niners’ offer to play, I would have resented her for giving up my dreams. Being apart allowed us time to discover who we were without each other, time to grow into ourselves as we navigated the ups and downs of chasing dreams.
“You okay?” I pulled back to look at her, tugging Giana’s chin up.
She smiled with her majestic blues as she wrapped her arms around my neck. “I’m okay, just taking it all in.”
I splayed the small of her back, my hands gliding up and down. “I’d like to kiss you again.”
Her gaze dropped to my mouth as she licked her lips. “I’d like you to kiss me again, too, but not here.”
Mouth curled upward; I nudged her nose with mine. “Even after our heated practice session to prepare for a kiss in front of all these people?”
“That’s when it was supposed to be fake, when we had something to prove.”
“Are you saying we’re not faking anymore, Gigi Rossi?”
She shook her head, and the smolder in her eyes made my cock twitch. “Not even if we tried.”
Resting my forehead on hers, the struggle to hold back one kiss became unbearable. “Let’s get out of here.”
She tucked her arm into the crook of my elbow, and I led her out of the room toward the elevator.
Our breaths were erratic as we waited five lifelong seconds for the elevator doors to glide open. I silently prayed we’d have it to ourselves for my own sinister reasons.
When we stepped on, I pressed button 22, waiting in agony for the double doors to close.
Once shut, I lifted Giana, pushing her against the elevator wall, smooth legs snaked around my waist.
My lips crashed down onto hers, unabashed and electric.
Her fingers were tangled in my hair.
Our tongues danced to their own rhythm.
Fuck, I missed this.
I missed us.
“What exactly are we doing?” she breathed out.
“Us Version 2.0,” I rasped into her ear.
“Us Version 2.0, huh?”
I smiled at the playfulness in her tone. “Yep, and this time around, let’s forget our past and get lost in our future.”
