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My eyes widen and I swallow, feeling rather than seeing the others stiffen at the same time. “Sorry, what do they have?”

“Timballo del Gattopardo.” Aldo shakes his head, oblivious to our attention. “It’s a macaroni pie.”

“What would you recommend?” Lane asks, his hand slipping under the table to rest on my thigh.

Aldo scratches his jaw, focused on the words he’s reading. “You’d probably like theAgnello cacio e ova.”

Lane’s hand tightens on my thigh, and I sneak a look at him. Yep. Aldo’s Italian accent is officially the hottest thing ever and I can’t believe we didn’t even think of it until now.

“Any recommendations for the birthday girl?” Doug asks.

My eyes flit up to find him gazing at Aldo with the same barely concealed lust.

“Erm . . .” He turns the page, frowning. “Gnocchi alla Sorrentina,but I’d ask the chef to add fresh chili if it were me.”

I bite down on my lip as I smile. “Would you?”

He shrugs. “Sure. Doug, if you want a recommendation, I’d suggestMalloreddusfor you.”

“Sounds delicious,” Doug says, shifting a little in his chair.

It’s adorable how completely oblivious Aldo is, and when the server returns as he closes his menu, he orders for us all.

The server’s face lights up and she says something to him in Italian. He laughs and responds, and I lean a little against Lane.

“I think I’m going to come in my pants,” he mutters against my ear.

I cough to cover my laugh, and it finally snags Aldo’s attention as he turns to look at us with a bemused expression. The server repeats the order and after a final short back and forth, she heads off to the kitchen.

“What the heck is going on?” Aldo asks, his eyes darting between the three of us.

I burst into giggles, and Lane’s mouth twitches like he can barely stop himself from laughing.

“Despite the fact that you’re from an Italian family who own arguably the most famous Italian restaurant chain in the country,” Doug explains, swirling the wine in his glass, “it seems we’re all surprised at the fact you actually speak Italian.”

Aldo laughs nervously. “Well, yeah. Of course. Why are you being weird about it?”

“Because you sound hot as fuck,” Doug says matter of factly.

Aldo’s mouth falls open and then closes again as he looks at us all for confirmation. “Okay, then.”

Lane chuckles, then turns to me. “Right, seeing as you know this is for your birthday, I can give this to you now instead of later.”

My eyes widen as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small black box. I hesitate before taking it, my heart pounding loudly. “You shouldn’t have.”

Lane presses the box into my hands. “Yes. I should.”

My fingers tremble a little as I push open the lid, but then I freeze. It’s a delicate gold necklace with a tiny golden wave pendant hanging from the chain. It’s so simple yet beautiful, and I love it instantly.

“I know you’re leaving swimming in your past,” Lane says softly, as I lift it from the box, watching it glint in the soft glow of the candles, “but it will always be a part of you. And if it wasn’t for swimming, we’d never have met.”

My eyes burn a little, and I struggle for something to say, but then Aldo strokes a hand down my arm and hands me a smaller, but similar box.

This is why I don’t like birthdays. Either you have to smile and pretend you like a gift when you don’t, or you get given something that makes your heart shatter in the best way, and you’re not sure whether your face is doing the right thing.

Bracing myself, I push open the lid. Inside is a small golden charm, similar to the one Lane got me. Except this one is a tiny golden musical note.

Aldo takes the box from me and carefully lifts out the charm. He picks up the necklace from the other box and unclasps it, threading the second charm on so that it hangs alongside the wave.

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