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17
LUCIA
F ake dating a five-time world champion race car driver was surprisingly easy. Fancy dates, amazing food, traveling the world, and having literally everything I needed delivered to me. I was quickly descending into spoiled territory. Gianna was having the best time, we explored on off days, cheered on the boys during practices and race days. Gianna was now telling everyone she would be a driver when she grew up. Matteo was thrilled. Alexander had been busy helping with the F1 Academy Driver he made me feel things that were creeping out of the box where I had long since shoved my crush.
After dinner, we decided to walk off the meal. The city was alive in the way only European cities could be at night, cobblestone streets glinting under the glow of lanterns, couples strolling hand in hand, and the faint hum of life around every corner.
The wine had left me warm and a little giddy, and Alexander seemed perfectly content to match my leisurely pace, his hand occasionally brushing against mine as we walked.
“What do you mean no one has ever bought you flowers for no reason?” he asked.
“Well, I’ve been given flowers, but they were always for something—‘I’m sorry’ flowers, birthday flowers, but never ‘just because’ flowers. I feel like those are the ones that count, you know? There’s something so romantic about your person being out, seeing flowers, and thinking of you, and then getting them for you.”
“If it was any flower, which one?” he asked.
“Happy flowers, bright and full of life,” I responded easily.
Somewhere along the way, we heard it: a soft, hauntingly beautiful melody drifting through the cool night air. We followed the sound to a small square, where a group of street musicians played under the glow of a single lamppost. The music was slow, romantic, and utterly enchanting.
Alexander stopped, turning to face me. “Dance with me,” he said, his voice low. I blinked, glancing around at the small crowd of people scattered across the square. “Here? In the middle of the street?”
He grinned, his eyes sparkling in the dim light. “Why not?”
Before I could protest, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward him, his arm sliding around my waist as if it belonged there.
“I’m a terrible dancer,” I warned, my cheeks already heating.
“Good thing I’m not,” he replied, his grin turning into a soft smile as he began to sway us to the music.
The world around us seemed to dissolve, fading into the soft glow of the streetlamp and the lilting notes of the street musicians’ melody. The cool night air kissed my skin, but all I could feel was the warmth of his hand on my back, steady and sure. My heart pounded, but not from nerves. It was something deeper, something unnamed but undeniably real, spreading through me like wildfire.
“Lucia,” Alexander murmured, his voice barely louder than a breath, yet it cut through the music as if it were meant only for me.
I tilted my head up to meet his gaze, and the intensity in his eyes rooted me in place. They were a shade of brown that seemed endless under the dim light, and they looked at me as though I was the only thing that mattered in the world.
“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice soft but weighted, each word spoken like it was a truth he could no longer hold back.
The words hung in the air, wrapping around me and pressing against my chest until I could hardly breathe. My heart clenched, an ache I couldn’t ignore spreading through me. The sincerity in his voice unraveled something inside, loosening the careful threads of resistance I had clung to.
I tried to summon the reasons I’d told myself over and over why this couldn’t happen—why I couldn’t let myself fall for Alexander Wright. He was too charming, too perfect, too everything. This was supposed to be fake. Carefully controlled. Safe.
But here I was, standing in his arms under a pool of moonlight, and I could feel it happening. Inexplicably, unavoidably, I was falling for this man.
The next morning, there was a bouquet of bright flowers on my hotel doorstep. A small handwritten note peeking out of the top petals:
Pretty flowers for a pretty girl xx-A
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18 (Reading here)
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
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- Page 33
- Page 34
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- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39