Page 51 of Damiano De Luca (The Five Syndicates)
“Not the kind of party I was referring to.” He stepped closer until his feet were in my line of sight, next to the bottle.
I trailed my eyes up his body, taking in the three-piece suit he wore like he posed in a GQ feature. “No shit.”
“So, you’re in a grumpy mood, I see.” He took a seat next to me and leaned against the bookshelf behind us. “What is it about libraries?”
“Nothing is less lonely than a room full of books.” I breathed in. “And the smell. Definitely the smell.”
He reached beside him and grabbed a random book, flipping through it quicker than he could possibly read. “Why are you here?”
“Why are you here?”
“Really?”
“Do you ever feel like the only real people in this world are the ones in these books?”
“Or maybe the world we’re living in is a book, and we’re just
characters.”
I rested my head against the bookcase and closed my eyes. “If that’s the case, someone is reading me, becoming me, understanding me, and maybe I’m not so lonely after all.”
He paused a beat, and the silence burrowed between us. “I’m sorry you feel lonely.”
This was getting too real.
“Why are you here, Damsel?” I nodded in the direction of the gym. “You should be out there with your loyal subjects.”
The lopsided grin he gave me shocked my system, and the calmness I’d always prided myself on fled. “Don’t you mean your loyal subjects, Princess? You’re the Vitali.”
“I’m the Knight, and don’t change the subject. Why are you here?” I leaned forward, and I didn’t even consider why I held my breath as I waited for his answer.
“Let’s dance.”
“What?” I shook my head. “If we go out there together, we’ll break their little minds.” As far as I knew, no one knew about our friendship.
“So, we’ll dance in here.” I opened my mouth, but he cut me off. “Don’t think too hard. If you want to dance with me, dance with me. As simple as that.” He stood and turned to face me.
The second my palm pressed against his, I knew I’d made the right decision. A slow song drifted into the library, faint but enough for us to find a rhythm. My fingers gripped his shoulders as his hands slid around my waist.
I forced myself to keep breathing when he stepped forward, and my chest brushed against him. The first step we took was effortless. In sync without trying.
I rested my chin on his shoulder, and my nose brushed against his neck. I felt his Adam’s apple bob against my cheek. “Thank you.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, and the territory we drifted into felt dangerous. Risky. Like it could either be the best decision or the worst decision I’d ever made. I was almost thankful when he said, “Don’t think too much of it,” instead of something that would tip us past the breaking point.
Maybe he saw the million questions running through my head, because he dipped me and spoke into my ear. “Tell that brain of yours to shut up and let us dance.”
“Why?”
He pulled me back up, and his grip on my waist tightened. “Because you’ll find out.”
That he cared about me.
“I already have.”
His eyes darkened as they scanned my face. We’d stopped dancing after the dip, but he still held me, and I still clutched onto his shoulders.
My pulse was erratic.
