All I Believe (Firsts and Forever, #10)(21)
“Absolutely. I think it’s a nice idea. Besides, we can pick up right where we left off after they finally conk out.”
We got out of the tub and dried off, and Luca loaned me some clothes. He got dressed in a long-sleeved white button-down and black pants. I watched him as he rolled back his cuffs, then ran a comb though his collar-length hair. I was struck once again by how stunningly handsome and effortlessly sexy he was, and when he looked up and smiled at me, I felt an unfamiliar rush of happiness. It made me realize how long it had been missing from my life.
*****
Downstairs in the bar, my family had gotten a bit of a party started. A young lesbian couple visiting from Croatia, two waiters who’d gone off-duty, and a forty-something husband and wife on holiday from Scotland had joined Nana, Jessie and Fiona. Someone (probably Nana) had convinced the manager of the normally sedate bar to play dance music, and Nana was leading a conga line among the tables to, of all things, an old Spice Girls song. Luca took that completely in stride and joined the end of the line, grasping Fiona’s waist, and I got behind him and did the same to him. We were all laughing by the time the song ended.
We then had to catch up with the drinking. Jessie lined up four shots in front of both Luca and me, and by the time we did the fourth, I was feeling no pain.
Luca asked me, “Do you dance?”
“Yes and no. I took a class in ballroom dancing at one point, but I can’t do the modern stuff. I look all spazzy, like a cat chasing a laser pointer,” I told him.
“I want to see that some time,” he said with a grin.
The bar was empty apart from our group, and he pushed back a few tables. He then spoke to the bartender, who was acting as DJ. The woman flipped through a stack of CDs and put one in the player. Luca came over to me and extended his hand.
When tango music started to play, I said, “Now this I can do.” I slipped out of the pair of slightly-too-large shoes he’d lent me and Luca did the same with his loafers before leading me barefoot to the makeshift dance floor.
He gave me a seductive smile and said, “Follow my lead.” At that moment, I would have followed him anywhere.
Luca led confidently, guiding me with his palm on the small of my back, my left hand held in his right. It took me a few moments to adjust since I’d been taught to lead, but his movements were so sure and decisive that I soon gave myself over to it. The moment I relinquished control, the dance became fluid, effortless.
He spun me and walked me backwards with several quick long strides, and dipped me before whisking me back across the room. Luca coiled and uncoiled himself around me, then pulled me close. I kept my gaze locked with his and mirrored his steps, fast then slow, forward and back, our bodies pressed together, my heart racing. He spun both of us, again and again.
Everything else fell away, the bar, our audience, even the music faded into the background as I focused on Luca. I slid down his body, dropping onto one knee, and he held my hand and dragged me around in a circle before pulling me to my feet. We clutched each other tightly, and when he dipped me backwards he went with me, our bodies moving as one, circling, spinning. It was absolutely intoxicating, far more than the alcohol, more than anything I’d ever experienced.
As the song reached its finale, he lifted me off my feet and held me right above him, staring deep into my eyes, our lips just inches apart. One arm was around me, holding me up, while his other hand rested on the back of my head. The room fell silent for a long moment when the music ended. I wanted him to kiss me like I’d never wanted anything in my life.
But he didn’t. Instead, he lowered me slowly, sliding me down his hard, muscular body, his eyes never leaving mine. It took me a few moments to notice that our little audience was whistling and applauding.
My heart was pounding as I looked up at him. It had very little to do with physical exertion. He brushed my hair from my face and said, “You’re right, that you can do. Not once did you look like a cat going after a laser pointer.” I laughed and took a step back embarrassedly.
After that, we joined my family and our new friends in a game of Prosecco pong. The longer we played, the funnier it got. Nana was incredibly good at it for some reason, but every time she got a ping pong ball into a glass of the sparkling white wine, she drank it herself rather than assigning it to the other team. After a few rounds, she was dancing on the bar with Jessie and the couple from Croatia. Luca and I acted as spotters, just in case she took a header. When she decided she was done, she jumped into Luca’s arms, patted his cheek and said, “You’re a good boy. So handsome, too. You and my grandson are beautiful together.”
“Thank you, Nana. Want a lift upstairs?”
She nodded and said, “Can we do a piggyback ride? I haven’t done that in ages.” When he agreed, she climbed on his back while Luca paid the hefty bill and added an extremely generous tip. When she saw him paying, she told him, “Tomorrow night, dinner’s on me. You are going to see Nico then, aren’t you?”
He looked at me hopefully and said, “I will if he’ll agree to go out with me again.”
“Of course,” I said shyly.
I scooped up Jessie, who was also completely smashed, and we called goodbye to our new friends and the bar staff. Fiona followed us, weaving a bit, her high heels in one hand, a half-finished bottle of Prosecco in the other. Nana meanwhile wrapped her legs around Luca’s waist and grabbed his pecs with both hands. “This is fun,” she announced happily as she squeezed his muscular chest. “Way better than I remember piggyback rides.”