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My heart slams against my ribs. “Hey,” I manage, voice thin.

He steps closer, and before I can brace myself, he pulls me into a hug. His arms lock around me, so solid and warm, crushing me against him. I smell him, it’s leather, smoke and something strong and male. My hands freeze at my sides, then creep up to his back, feeling the hard lines under his jacket. I don’t want him to let go. Ever.

But he does, pulling back, his hands lingering on my shoulders for a beat too long.

“Didn’t know you were back,” he says, studying me.

“Surprise,” I croak, forcing a wry smile. “Italy got old.”

He nods, lips twitching. “You look good.”

“Thanks.” I tug at my dress again, thankful it’s short and pretty, showing off my legs. It’s the first time he’s seen me in years, and I’m not some scrawny kid anymore. “You too.”

Gianna snorts, unwrapping her gift and it’s a sleek silver bracelet. Definitely expensive.

“Oh, damn, Adriano. You didn’t have to flex this hard.”

“Shut up and wear it,” he grunts, but there’s a flicker of a smile.

She punches his arm. “Bossy as ever. Gerald’s gonna hate you for stealing my heart today.”

“Tell him to fight me for it,” he shoots back, deadpan.

I laugh and his eyes snap to me again, and my breath jams. I look away, fast, but it’s too late. He’s hooked me.

The party drags on, and I’m stuck orbiting him. I grab another beer, and chat with Gianna’s colleague, Lisa, about her dumb ex, but every few minutes, my eyes find him. He’s by the grill now, flipping burgers with a neighbor, and his sleeves are rolled up, those herculean forearms flexing. Then he’s laughing at something Gerald says, a rare, low rumble that hits me in the gut. God, I miss that laugh. I haven’t heard it since that night. Each time our eyes meet across the yard, it’s equivalent to a punch, and I can’t fucking breathe.

It’s like, despite everyone standing there, he sees only me.

My skin prickles, wishing it could be true, and I hate it.

I hate wanting him this bad when it’s impossible. He could never feel that way. Not after what happened.

Lisa catches me staring and moves closer beaming. “Got a type, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snap, then chug my beer.

She laughs. “Oh, so touchy. He’s old enough to be your dad, you know.”

“Piss off,” I mutter, shoving past her. She’s right, and it stings worse than I’ll admit.

Later, I’m tipsy, the yard spinning a little, and Gianna’s shoving cake in Gerald’s face. Most of the guests have left, leaving the ones who live nearby, and I stumble toward the cooler for water, but Adriano’s there, leaning against it, watching me.

Okay, fine. I’m not actually thirsty, I just needed an excuse to talk to him.

But I am drunk, so thank the universe for liquid courage.

“You okay?” he asks when it seems like I’m finding it hard to shuffle through the bottles.

“Fine,” I lie, grabbing a bottle. My hand shakes when I bring it up to drink and he notices.

“Too much beer?” He steps closer, looming over me.

No, too much you. God, he is so close and so handsome. Did he even age a day?

“Maybe.” I twist the cap off, and take a sip. “You gonna judge me?”

“Nah.” There’s a soft, wicked twist to his lips. “Been there.”

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