23ILARIA
Idon’t want to be here.
The realization had happened when I was in the salon chair getting my makeup done and hair styled for tonight. Or maybe it was sooner but that was the first time I really thought about it.
The faint smell of my hair getting straightened mixed with the soft powdery scent of the blush being dragged up my cheeks had me feeling dizzy as I sat being dolled up, already overwhelmed by the day that I was having.
Being with Dante had been a rollercoaster of emotions.
One minute I’d be riding a high and the next minute I’d be free falling trying to figure out what was happening as I frantically attempted to keep myself together.
My emotions couldn’t handle this.
Yet I still got ready and went to my engagement party because it was what was expected of me.
But I was at the party now and there was no escaping it.
Dressed in my white dress to play the image of the bride to be for everyone.
A glass of champagne was pressed into my hands as Tessa looked at me, a knowing look on her face.
“You looked like you needed a pick me up.” She stood beside me, a few inches taller in her heels, “I’m not going to ask why you need a pick me up at your engagement party to a man I literally watched you humping on a beach a week ago but I’m here if you want to tell me your secrets.”
There was a moment of silence and I looked up at her from where I was sitting at the bar.
Tessa had been my friend for a long time. We had gone to high school together and despite being close to all the girls in our group we could share secrets with each other that wouldn’t end up in our group message later.
“I bought my wedding dress today and checked out the venue that was booked, picked out what floral arrangements I wanted, stopped at the tailor and ordered what I wanted Dante to wear, had my thank you cards printed and went over a guest list to help with the seating chart.” I threw up the information as she stood there, sipping the drink she had handed me heavily with each task I had completed.
She didn’t chastise me about getting my dress without her. No scream like I had denied her of anything. I think she understood I hadn’t done it to be a bitch it was more of a need to go and get this thing done.
Plus, there had been this idea drifting in my mind of how my mother would have looked at me in my wedding dress and seeing anything less than her reaction to me was going to be a heartbreak that I didn’t want to face.
“Are you going to make us all wear freakin’ pastels?” She teased, avoiding the topic of my dress completely and making me remember that I had the best friends in the entire world.
“I was thinking of bringing back the trend from the 80’s where you wear a matching hat and shoes dyed in the same fuchsia as the tulle layered dress I pick out for you.”
Tessa made a hissing sound as the first real smile of the night slipped onto my face and I felt the easy way teasing could bring joy.
“It’s a real shame you didn’t take me to see your wedding dress because I’m going to have to kill you before I ever get to see you as a bride. Fucking fuchsia, really Ilaria?”
But she’s laughing with me, looping her arm into mine as she draws me close into a hug that catches me a bit by surprise.
Tessa doesn’t like to touch people like this. Hugs don’t happen with her, the most she does is dance or hold your hand but wrapping herself around someone is a big step.
It’s exactly what I need.
“So you’re the bride. All wrapped up in your pretty white dress already.”
Pale green eyes are on me as I pull out of the hug, looking at the man in front of me. He has that slim muscled build, as tall as Dante with a mess of dark curls that look wet and a suit that was tailored so well to his body it looks like it was painted on.
All black on creamy skin, several buttons left undone to show a few chains: St Christopher, a cross, a pepper, and swirls of tattoos peaking through, just asking to be touched or talked about. And this stranger knows exactly what sort of feelings he’s eliciting when he is literally dressed like a snack.
“Jesus Christ.” Tessa mumbles it so low as she drinks him in and I’m thankful for her presence because right now I don’t trust myself to not stare.
I sip the rest of my champagne, slipping my mask of a happy bride back into place and making him smile at me like he can see me putting myself back together.
“I’m Ilaria. We haven’t met before.”
It’s polite and to the point but this man is anything but polite.
Not only does he let his eyes appreciate the curves of Tessa but he cocks his head as he looks at me, eyes slipping up my legs at the soft white material slinging to me, over my shoulder that’s open and down the sleeved one.
He stares at my neck like he is imagining what his hand would look like around it before he flicks his eyes onto mine and stares so intensely that I have to look away, searching for Dante in the crowds for the first time tonight.
I can’t be around a man like this.
Dante gave off golden retriever vibes, safe and soft but this stranger he was all German Shepard, dark and filled with something that made you want to pet him even though you knew he was trained to bite.
“Francesco Luchese. I’m Dante’s best man.”
And because of course he would he lifted my hand slipping his lips over it as he maintained eye contact with me.
Fuck.
Tessa has slipped away, having sworn off men after her latest breakup. I didn’t blame her for hiding from Francesco. He was the exact sort of trouble that could ruin my life and I was in the exact sort of mood to let him.
