Page 28 of Unforgivable Ties

“It really does!” she responded, going starry eyed. “It’s so romantic.”

“Isn’t it?” I said, my voice an octave higher than usual. I felt Vincenzo’s thumb trace small circles on my knee, a comforting gesture that did nothing to ease my nerves.

After Ted and Jessica shared their own meeting story—a chance encounter at a farmer’s market—the conversation shifted to other topics.

Soon enough, our food came and we all ate. The grilled sea bass was delicious, cooked to perfection with a buttery lemon sauce that practically melted in my mouth. Vincenzo seemed to enjoy his steak, cutting into it with vigor and complimenting the chef.

“Do you want to try?” he asked.

As his “girlfriend,” it would probably look weird if I declined.

“Sure,” I said, picking up my fork and knife to cut myself a piece.

“Here,” he said, holding out his fork.

He had already cut a piece for me. I turned bright red as he fed me the steak from his own fork, the intimacy of the act causing a ripple of embarrassment. I accepted it, though, for the sake of our performance.

“It’s delicious,” I managed to say, maintaining eye contact with him. His gaze was soft, his eyes twinkling with a mild amusement that made me want to crawl under the table.

We finished up dinner and paid the bill. This was only the beginning of our night; the real fun was still to come.

“The club is just right across the street,” Jessica said, pointing at the neon sign visible from the restaurant window.

“Perfect,” Vincenzo replied, rising from his chair and extending a hand to help me up.

We got to the club and the pulsating beat of the music, previously muffled as we approached from outside, hit us like a physical force. The multicolored lights pulsed along to the rhythm, lighting up people’s faces in blues and purples before plunging them back into darkness.

“Oh, yeah!” Jessica said to us excitedly, before grabbing Ted’s hand. “Let’s go!”

She was a huge partier in undergrad. Now that she was an adult, she had toned it down, but there was still a side of her that longed to get drunk and dance on tabletops. I watched the couple disappear into the crowd.

“We can just sit at the bar,” I said to Vincenzo. “You don’t have to dance.”

“Who said I didn’t want to dance?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Before I could reply, he had already taken my hand and was leading us towards the dance floor, weaving skillfully through the mass of people. The whole place was a riot of colors and noise, a seemingly chaotic mix of flying limbs, spilled drinks, and pounding music that somehow fell just short of anarchy.

He tugged me along until we were at the heart of the dance floor, bodies pressed against each other in the pulsating rhythm of the music. My stomach twisted with a mix of anticipation and anxiety as he placed a hand on my waist, pulling me closer. I hadn’t gone clubbing since undergrad—Hopefully my dancing skills weren’t too rusty.

Half instinctively and half following his lead, I moved with him. His hands ran up and down my sides as we swayed together, the rhythm of the music pulsating through our bodies. His touch was gentle, yet firm, as if he knew exactly where to guide me.

My hands wrapped around his neck and I leaned into him, feeling the warm solidity of his body against mine. The world seemed to fade as I got lost in the moment, his scent, and the resounding music.

Vincenzo leaned down and pressed his lips against the shell of my ear. “You’re a good dancer.”

He didn’t move after speaking, letting his breath fan against the sensitive skin of my neck as the pounding bass vibrated through us. Instead, he continued his descent, teasingly running his lips against the sensitive skin of neck until he reached my collar bone.

I gasped at the contact and pulled him closer still. My own hands explored his chest, tracing the muscles hidden beneath his shirt. His movements were slow, purposeful—a tease that drew me in and left me craving more.

Vincenzo pulled back from my neck and rested his forehead against mine, still swaying our hips to the beat of the music. His eyes were a tempest, swirling with a mix of desire and something I couldn’t quite pinpoint. His nose brushed against mine, and I realized he was hovering his lips dangerously close to my own.

I could feel his hot breath as he leaned in to close the millimeter gap that was left between our lips. Suddenly, the music glitched and the club filled with an ear splitting static. I pulled back and covered my ears as the noise echoed around the room. The dancers stilled, their joyous expressions replaced by confusion and annoyance.

“Sorry about that, folks,” the DJ said, finally getting the noise under control. “Let’s pick up where we left off!”

The beat of the music starting thumping again, but for Vincenzo and I, the moment was lost.

“L-let’s get a drink,” I said, whirling away from him and walking towards the bar.

---