Chapter One
Mia
“We should dance,” I tell Vince, placing my empty champagne glass back down on the table.
Francesca’s wedding is absolutely lovely. I couldn’t be happier for her. I search the dance floor for her and her new husband, fighting down the vague pang of jealousy. I know I have Vince, but it doesn’t feel like I have anything. It would be so nice to be in her place, in the big white dress, the man I love with his hand resting possessively on my hip. Salvatore obviously adores her and she deserves that. She deserves her happy ending. She deserves her handsome prince.
Maybe I don’t.
Maybe Vince was mine, and I squandered him.
Francesca has Salvatore. Meg has Mateo. And me? I have damage control. I have a charge. I have a pending disaster to constantly divert.
“I don’t wanna dance,” Vince tells me, staring at his glass of whiskey.
The open bar has been a little too generous to him. We all build up an alcohol tolerance from spending time with Mateo, but this wedding is hitting both of us hard. I was happy to stand with Francesca at the church, but I was not mentally prepared for the feeling of being hit by a truck when Mateo appeared at the end of the aisle. He looked at Sal first, giving me a moment to take in the sight of him, so sexy and elegant in a well-tailored tux. Then his gaze moved over the crowd and found Meg as he escorted Francesca down the aisle. So many various feelings clawed at my insides—pain, elation, sadness, yearning, jealousy, fear, dismay, confusion, shame, just to name a few.
Then Mateo’s brown eyes met mine and I was gone. He kept his gaze on me most of the way down the aisle, and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even adequately handle everything I was feeling, so I damn sure didn’t have the presence of mind to mask it. I realized in that horrible moment, as I struggled to draw breath into my useless lungs, that I’m going to have to stand in exactly that spot at his wedding. I’m going to stand there on the altar, across from Mateo like I stood across from Sal, and watch Meg walk up that very same aisle. I’m going to stand right behind her, watching his face while he repeats the vows Sal spoke, his eyes glowing with the same love, his deep voice uttering those same words, right in front of me, but not to me.
I realized watching him marry Meg isn’t just going to devastate me, it won’t merely shatter my heart into a billion tiny slivers; it’s going to kill me.
Since Vince was not in the wedding, he had a front row seat to all of it. He couldn’t even speak to me after the ceremony was over and we left to come to the reception. Neither of us said a single word the whole way here.
Our vibe hasn’t improved much since.
But now, like an evil king here to save me from my sour prince, Mateo approaches our table. I’m a little stunned—a lot stunned, actually—as he offers me his hand.
“Dance with me.”
He doesn’t ask, he commands, and like the loyal subject that I am, I yearn to obey. My wretched heart tries to fly right out of my chest. I sit forward, glancing uncertainly over at Vince. He’ll flip his shit if I dance with Mateo, I know he will. I’ll pay for it later, absorbing bitter, angry words, seeing the pain I inflict across Vince’s handsome face.
I feel a little heavier just thinking about the cost, but after the day I’ve had, I don’t have the strength to tell him no.
I glance back at Mateo’s table across the room from ours. Meg isn’t even looking our way.
Vince laughs a short, bitter laugh, his gaze not on either of us. “You obviously don’t need my permission.”
Guilt spears me, even though I know he wants it to. Sometimes I don’t want to let him win, but if I’m about to dance with Mateo, I’m about to win, so I may as well let him score a few points.
No longer waiting on my agreement, Mateo reaches forward and pulls me out of my seat. A moment later, I’m following him onto the dance floor, my heart swelling with excitement. I don’t care how much I have to pay later; right now I’m going to dance with Mateo.
Every nerve ending in my body lights up as he pulls me into his strong arms here on the dance floor, in front of everyone. His hold on my waist is firm, and he takes my hand in his, gazing down at me. His brown eyes are warm, with a light sparkle of amusement. As ever, I am intoxicated by the enormity of this incredible man’s presence.